‘The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of violence.’—Psalm lxxiv. 20.

The following extracts from the Ten Years’ Review of the Madagascar Mission, 1891–1900, published by the London Missionary Society, will show the steps which led up to the conquest of the island by France.

‘A treaty concluded at Tàmatàve, on December 17, 1885, after the desultory Franco-Malagasy hostilities, which had continued at intervals for three years and a half, conceded certain rights and privileges to the government of the French Republic which no other foreign power enjoyed. Difficulties and disputes arose from time to time, however, on various points directly bearing on the treaty, and notably on the two following: the validity of the appendix which was added to the agreement, and the rights of the native government to issue exequaturs to the foreign consuls. As time wore on the tension between the two parties became more and more strained, until at last the French government, feeling the situation to be intolerable, determined to make one final and serious effort to bring the Malagasy government to submission by peaceful means, and, with this end in view, sent out in October, 1894, a plenipotentiary in the person of M. Le Myre de Vilers, who, a short time previously, had been resident-general of the island. But, as the queen and prime minister were unwilling to yield to his demands, his mission proved abortive, and he returned to France. The French government decided, therefore, to settle the matter once for all by force of arms.

‘An expeditionary force, under the command of General Duchesne, with General de Torcy as chief of the staff, and consisting of 658 officers and 14,773 men, with about 6,000 auxiliary conductors and baggage-bearers, 641 horses, 6,630 mules, 5,040 Lefebvre carts, and 46 pieces of artillery, was dispatched in the early part of 1895 to compel submission to the French demands. Besides this military force, a naval division of nine or ten vessels operated on the coast, and kept the inhabitants in continual alarm by the occasional firing of shells. A considerable proportion of the troops consisted of Algerians, Dahomeyans, and Senegalese.

‘The first detachment of soldiers, under General Metzinger, was landed at Mojangà, the chief port on the north-west coast, which was to form the base of operations. General Duchesne arrived there on May 6, and by the 18th, preliminary skirmishes having already taken place in the neighbourhood, everything was in readiness for an advance. The difficulties to be encountered proved greater than had been anticipated. Arrangements had been made for transporting the forces from Mojangà to Mèvatanàna (about two-fifths of the distance to the capital) by way of the river Bètsibòka. But this was found, for one reason or another, to be, to a large extent, impracticable. Attention was turned, therefore, to the task of widening the native path running alongside the river, so as to allow the transport of the baggage and ammunition by means of Lefebvre wagons. It was chiefly during these operations, carried on in a hot and fever-stricken territory, that the French lost so many lives from disease.

‘Having established himself firmly at Màngasoàvina, General Duchesne, knowing that the rainy season was approaching, determined to desist from the attempt to continue the new road, the construction of which had occupied so much time, and had cost so much labour and sacrifice of life, and decided to take forward a flying column to seize Antanànarìvo. He had learned from experience that, in spite of the vastly superior numbers of the Malagasy soldiers, little was to be feared from any opposition on their part—retreat from one position to another, after firing a few random shots, being mostly the order of the day. We might say much on the disorganized condition of the native army, the feeble resistance offered by it, and the general corruption prevailing at head quarters at the time. Certain it is that the Malagasy had but little idea of the military strength and skill of their opponents. The flying column consisted of 237 officers, 4,013 men, 1,515 conductors, with nearly 3,000 mules. The commissariat was provided with rations for twenty-two days. The Hovas were driven from point to point, and, after a forced march of sixteen days, the French troops found themselves encamped a little to the east of Antanànarìvo. Only those who were here at the time can adequately imagine the excitement of the people, which had been growing day by day, as it became increasingly evident that the French troops were not to be resisted in their onward progress; and now that they were at their very doors, their excitement was at blood-heat. The capital was crowded with soldiers, who were stationed in various parts of the town; but it was evident from their condition that little could be expected from them. We feared, and we had feared all along, that the government might lose its control of the people, and that the country might become a prey to riotous and murderous mobs; and it says a great deal for the authorities that they were able to keep well in hand the reins of power during the whole time when feeling ran so high. Even when the French were close at hand, and when the town was filled with thousands of people armed with guns, spears, swords, large knives, or cudgels, perfect order was preserved, and, so far as we remember, not the slightest sign was manifested, outwardly at least, of any hostile feeling towards the foreigners who had chosen to remain.

‘The night before the town was taken was as peaceful as usual. The thought of the coming noise of battle and the threatening horrors of the morrow doubtless increased the sense of calm that prevailed. By six o’clock in the morning of September 30 all was astir in the French camp, and the Hova soldiers were ranging themselves for defence on the various small hills about half a mile east of the capital, which run north and south parallel to the ridge on which the city is built. About eight or nine o’clock the French troops were seen descending the hills three or four miles to the east into the valley which separated them from the bulk of the Hova forces, where they could no longer be seen from the capital. Fighting had by this time commenced in earnest. Repeated volleys, directed against the Hovas on the hills, were heard from the valley below, and many stray bullets fell into the town. Although the Hova soldiers did, to some extent, redeem their character in this their final struggle, and though their artillery more especially was served at one or two points with considerable skill and bravery, still it was evident that the forces were neither properly led nor efficiently organized.

A little after eleven o’clock the French, having shelled the positions occupied by the Hova artillery and silenced their guns, began to appear here and there on the range of hills occupied by the Hovas, who very soon, therefore, retreated from their positions. Near the Roman Catholic Observatory, situated on one of the hills, several houses were in flames, whilst a Hova battery, placed near the palace, opened fire on the French who had gained the summit. The fighting now had almost ceased, and there was a period of quiet. In the meantime, however, the French were bringing their field-pieces into position. Soon the bombardment of the town commenced, but it was evident that the French were anxious to avoid committing any unnecessary damage. Their fire was only kept up at intervals, and was concentrated on the Hova batteries and the palace. One of the melinite shells, falling in the palace-yard, where many thousands of people, chiefly soldiers, were assembled, destroyed many lives. This brought matters to a crisis. At about three o’clock the Malagasy flag was hauled down from the top of the palace, after which not another shot was fired. Half an hour afterwards some native officers were seen carrying out a white flag to the French lines, submission was rendered, and the war was at an end.

‘The expedition, which had been conducted throughout by General Duchesne in the most humane and merciful manner, had cost the French nation £2,600,000, and, what was more, the lives, almost entirely from disease, of 5,756 officers and men.

‘Within an hour after the submission, many of the French troops, weary and footsore, entered Antanànarìvo, glad doubtless to get to the end of their long and exhausting march. At the gate of the hospital immediately to the east of the town a sad spectacle was witnessed— a long line of mules bringing in the sick and wounded, some of whom were moaning in agony from the pain of their diseases or their wounds. Next morning at eight o’clock General Duchesne and his staff, with the remainder of the troops, entered the town. A treaty of peace, in which Madagascar was distinctly and definitely placed under the protection of France, was signed at three o’clock in the afternoon, and on the same day was ratified by the queen. After this ratification, the general told the queen that she might again raise the Malagasy flag above the royal palace. Six days after the signing of the treaty General Duchesne received a copy of another agreement from his government of a still more rigorous character, the presentation for signature of which, however, he left to his successor, M. Laroche.’

I had to go to the coast in 1894 to meet my wife and daughter, who joined me that year. A short time after their arrival, M. Le Myre de Vilers brought the French ultimatum, which it was impossible for the Malagasy to accept. This was just what was wanted by some, and the French flag was hauled down and friendly relations broken off.

Most of the European ladies left the island, and I took my wife and daughter to the east coast for fourteen weeks, during the march of the expedition on the capital. The queen had been shamefully deceived, the people betrayed, and the fatherland sold by a party of traitors in the palace, who had been seduced from their allegiance by a protégé of the Jesuits, who had been in the pay of the French for years. The traitors posed as ultra-patriots, and thus thoroughly deceived the queen. They persuaded her to discharge all the European officers in the service of the government, while the services of others, who were willing to help the Malagasy to defend their fatherland were declined. She acted like a mad woman—refusing to follow the advice of the prime minister, and following the advice of these traitors, as also that of her incapable relatives, and her nurse! The traitors told her they were not to depend on foreigners for the defence of their fatherland. They were quite able to drive the French back to the sea. The queen did not get her eyes opened, nor find out how grossly she had been deceived, until the French army marched over the hills on Antanànarìvo—and then it was too late.

It was thought in England, and elsewhere, that the Malagasy made a most disgraceful appearance in the defence of their fatherland; but it was not known that the right sort of people were kept from rising to defend their country by these traitors. Nor was it known that neither officers nor soldiers of the native army received any pay, and the officers lived by blackmailing their men. Of 20,000 sent out to meet the French, some 14,000 bought themselves off or deserted. The chief traitor had control of the Madagascar Times, in which the French were vilified, and represented every week as defeated and all but annihilated.

All this was a blind. This patriot volunteered at the last to lead 6,000 men to meet the French; but took the precaution of going along a route by which he knew they would not come. If the French officers had had their way, these traitors as a body, and the chief one in particular, would have had short shrift; and if they had been so dealt with, the lives of many honest and innocent men would have been saved, and many mistakes avoided. It was reported that copies of the prime minister’s dispatches—as commander-in-chief of the Malagasy army—were sent to the French general, and thus he knew every move that was to be taken, and was prepared for it.

After the French reached the capital, and the people saw how basely they had been betrayed, they rose 100,000 strong, and if they had had arms and ammunition, or could have obtained them, the French would have been defeated before reinforcements could have arrived. This rising may have been sheer madness on the part of the natives, after things had gone so far; but they did not know this, and they were greatly exasperated over their betrayal. As the old heathen and semi-heathen element greatly preponderated in the rising, and all who would not join it were shot or had their throats cut, thousands who saw the madness of the rising were compelled to join it, or at least to pretend to join. They suffered severely for their unhappy effort to redeem the situation, as also did their relatives—many being shot as suspects.

The French expedition landed at Mojangà, on the north-west coast, in April; but it was October 1 before it entered the capital. It had been detained—so a French officer afterwards informed me—for six weeks near Mèvatanàna by a cablegram from Paris, instructing the General that he was not to enter Antanànarìvo before October 1, in order that the news of its fall might reach Paris by October 10, and so cause a sensation at the opening of the Chambers. The detention of the expedition among the swamps and fever fens of that part of the island cost the lives of hundreds of the poor French soldiers; but, as the above-mentioned French officer said, what did Paris politicians care for the lives of the poor French soldiers! The poor fellows had been set to the mad task of making a road from Mojangà to Antanànarìvo—some 400 miles—for the famous, or infamous, Lefebvre carts. To set these young fellows, fresh from the fair fields of France, to make a road through such a malarial country as North-West Madagascar, under a tropical sun, was nothing short of murder. The General had to attempt to carry out his instructions, and bravely tried to do so, until it proved impossible. The lives of some 6,000 French soldiers were sacrificed to the mad attempt, after which, of course, the brave General who had done his best had the blame thrown on him for their murder instead of on the man who had issued the order for the making of the road.

A rush was made on Antanànarìvo with a flying column, and the capital was captured on the afternoon of September 30. This event caused great excitement in France—the people went into ecstasies over it. In reality nothing could have been easier. The General knew there would be no serious opposition; the traitors had arranged matters beforehand. The Malagasy troops, who ought to have been there to defend the capital, had been carefully removed, and taken away to meet the French along a route by which it was well known they would not come. There was slight skirmishing all day, but no serious fighting, and by two o’clock the French were in possession of the heights round Antanànarìvo, and the city was at the mercy of their guns. It had been decided, it seems, that if the Malagasy flag on the great palace was not lowered by half-past three fire was to be opened on it, with melinite shells. This would have laid the capital and neighbourhood in ruins, and might have sacrificed thousands of lives, as there were 10,000 barrels of gunpowder stored in the great palace!

About three o’clock of the day on which Antanànarìvo fell, a shell was thrown into the palace-yard, which was then packed with people, who had taken refuge there. By this shell some sixty were torn to pieces under the eyes of the queen, who with the prime minister was on the verandah of the great palace. Her Majesty all but fainted at the sight, and at once gave orders for the flag on the palace to be lowered. Her eyes had been opened by that time, and she saw how basely she had been betrayed by those whom she had trusted. No one would obey her and lower the flag until, at last, one of the menials of the court climbed up, and cut the rope. An officer—the protégé of the Jesuits and seducer of the other traitors from their allegiance, and their coach in the part they were to play—and one of the queen’s private secretaries were sent out with the white flag of surrender. They were only just in time, as it was 3.20 when the flag was seen, and the bugles sounded cease firing. Another ten minutes, and the bombardment with melinite shells would have commenced. The guns were loaded with them, the officers standing by, watch in hand; but in the providence of God the appearance of the white flag averted the catastrophe.

After the French had established themselves in the capital, Rainilaiàrivòny, the late prime minister, and husband of the queen, was deposed. He was then a man of nearly seventy years of age, and for many years had been the one prominent figure in the island. His character was a strange mixture, and, living as he did through the period of transition from heathenism to Christianity, he seemed more or less to partake of both elements, the latter, however, predominating. For, whatever may have been his faults, he was, not only in natural ability, but in general uprightness, head and shoulders above most of those by whom he was surrounded. He was the genius of the Hova people—one of the ablest men I ever met. He lived a thoroughly respectable, upright life; introduced, especially in earlier years, numerous beneficial reforms; was in entire sympathy with all educational and religious work; and had ruled the island for thirty years as it never had been ruled before. He was then nearing his dotage, and the French removed him. He was taken to one of his country seats a few miles to the north of the capital, where, after suffering imprisonment for some months, he was, soon after the rising began, banished to Algeria, and died there about five or six months after. His corpse was taken back to Antanànarìvo some five years after, and buried in the family tomb.

General Duchesne, who was a chivalrous French gentleman of the old school, treated the queen with the utmost courtesy and kindness, and did all in his power to soften her fall. Very different indeed was his treatment of her from that which she afterwards received. For his chivalry he was attacked and abused by a section of the French press. The queen had been betrayed (a word which Frenchmen are themselves prone enough to use with less justification) rather than conquered. All this was forgotten by those who profited by her fall. Sympathy was denied her because she was only a nigger! The General, however, stuck to his guns, declined to do anything dishonourable or degrading, and behaved all through in a way that earned for him the respect of all those—natives and foreigners—whose respect was worth having. It was due to him, who had throughout shown himself to be not only a kindly disposed and merciful man, but also a rigid military disciplinarian, that there was no looting, no drunkenness, no disturbance of any kind, and that all provisions were bought—in the capital at least—with honest cash.

On the march of the expedition through our old district of Vònizòngo, some of the French black troops took Rainihàrisòa, a Malagasy medical practitioner—an old pupil of mine—prisoner, and robbed him of his watch. He was brought before General Duchesne, who asked how he had been treated, and if he had been robbed of anything. He told him of his being robbed of his watch. The General asked the value of it; was told £3. He immediately handed that sum to Rainihàrisòa. He then summoned the captain of the black troops who had committed the robbery before him, and in the sternest terms informed him what would be the consequences if such conduct was allowed to be repeated. Notwithstanding all that, the wire-pullers managed to have him nominally honoured, but practically disgraced and shelved. The blame of all the blundering and sacrificing of soldiers’ lives during the campaign was laid upon him, and not on the real culprit at the War Office.

Immediately after the arrival of the French at the capital William and Lucy Johnson of the Friends’ Mission, with their little daughter ‘Blossom,’ were murdered at Arìvonimàmo, in the west, by a semi-heathen mob. The Johnsons ought to have been in the capital; but sense of duty kept them at their station, although no work could be done there at the time. They trusted the people, and would not believe that they could harm those who, like themselves, had never done them anything but good. That feeling of trust kept them from taking advantage of the opportunity to escape, when they might have done so, even when they were urged to flee. They paid dearly for their error of judgement. The temper of a mob, but especially of a semi-heathen mob, is always an unknown quantity.

The martyrdom of the Johnsons, as it afterwards appeared, saved the lives of the queen, the French General and staff, the chief Malagasy officials, the traitors, and the European community at Fàravòhitra in the capital. For one of the tribes—the Zànakàntitra—in the neighbourhood of the capital, having branches in other parts of the central province, had formed a conspiracy to murder the traitors for betraying them and selling their fatherland; the queen and chief Malagasy officials for yielding to the French; the French General and his staff; and the European community for being on friendly terms with the French, and therefore in their minds, of course, in league with them against the Malagasy. The whole tribe was to assemble from the various villages by different routes at the weekly market at the capital, on a certain Friday, armed with knives and small meat-axes, which could easily be carried hidden under their cotton plaids. At a pre-arranged signal one party was to rush the French residency, another the palace, and a third Fàravòhitra, where the European community mostly resided, and all were to be massacred. As nothing of this kind was suspected by any one the plot might very easily have succeeded.

On the Monday, however, before the Friday fixed upon, two Malagasy officers—one of whom I knew well—and nine soldiers were sent out west to one of the villages of the Zànakàntitra tribe to arrest a bad character who was wanted; but who was being harboured by the chief of that village. On their arrival at the village they demanded in the queen’s name that the man should be given up; but the chief refused to hand him over to them. Thereupon the Hova officers in an arrogant tone—Hova officers were nothing if not arrogant—declared that if he was not given up at once he would be taken by force together with the chief, and that both would be carried off as prisoners to the capital. The chief dared them to do so. Whereupon the officers and men drew their batons—they had no other arms—and entered the village; but as they were completely at the mercy of the villagers, who were armed and ready to receive them, they were at once speared or cut down. Thus the eleven were literally cut to pieces!

Having committed so great a crime as the murder of the queen’s officers and men they knew the consequences, and having once tasted blood determined not to wait till Friday; but rose at once, and sent off messengers to call out the other branches of the tribe. As they were not prepared to rise at a moment’s notice, and many were from home, they were joined only by a few from their immediate neighbourhood. They marched next morning on Arìvonimàmo, to seek, it was said, for an evangelist against whom they had a grudge, and who, it had been reported, was under shelter in Mr. Johnson’s house. When they found that he had escaped they attacked the Johnsons and murdered them all. They looted their property and burned down their dwelling.

The awful news reached the capital on the Tuesday afternoon. It was the evening of the Fàndròana, the annual festival of the Bath; but it was the saddest annual festival that had ever been held. General Duchesne and his staff were present, but it was more like a funeral feast than a festival. French troops were sent out west the following morning, and so the plot to massacre was frustrated.

Several members of the London Missionary Society mission had also very narrow escapes, myself, I believe, among the number. In the case of two members whose murder had been planned escape was due in one case to the absence of the proposed victim, through his being called to the capital; and in the case of the other, no one was courageous or cruel enough to make the attack. We did not know of all this until afterwards, and it was well we did not.

General Duchesne, having accomplished his mission in the island, in the performance of which he had gained a name among the natives, as well as the Europeans, for justice and humanity, returned to France. On January 17, 1896, M. Laroche arrived in Antanànarìvo as the first governor-general of the island. He remained in office only until September of the same year. He was a man of high principle, with a love of fairness and justice, not only to Europeans, but also to the natives, which amounted to a passion. He was full of generous impulses, devoid of all ostentation, and very courteous and gracious to Queen Rànavàlona.

The Malagasy remember M. Laroche with feelings of kindliness to the present day, and his name will ever be associated with the emancipation of the slaves, which he accomplished by a single coup d’état.

One of the most notable days in the history of Madagascar was Sunday, September 27, 1896, for on that day there appeared in the Journal Officiel the sudden and, by the natives, altogether unexpected announcement that tous les habitants de Madagascar sont personnes libres. Thus by a single stroke of the pen, as it were, the time-honoured but execrable institution of slavery, which had its roots so deeply implanted in the fabric of Malagasy social life, was razed to the ground. It was M. Laroche, who was then on the point of handing the reins of government to his successor, General Gallieni, who thus struck off the fetters from ten thousand slaves. It had of course been known to all the Europeans that, from the time the island became a French colony, slavery was doomed, as being altogether incompatible with the principles of a people whose national motto is Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.

The news of the emancipation spread like wild-fire, and had the decree been published in less distracting times—before the people had been crushed and cowed—the excitement caused by it would probably have given rise to serious disturbances, possibly to bloodshed. As it was, it was received with sullen calm by the slave-owners, and with great rejoicing by the slaves. Some of the latter, it is said, claimed their freedom before their masters even knew of the proclamation of the edict of emancipation.

There was an attempt made to revoke the edict of emancipation of the slaves, but, as the highest judicial authority in the island stated that that could be done only by an act of the French Chambers, nothing came of the attempt. M. Laroche was a noble-minded Christian gentleman, and had he been left long enough there, and his instructions carried out, he probably would have been able to reconcile the Malagasy to the French rule and régime, and thus 10,000 lives sacrificed during the rising would have been saved. For he soon gained the confidence of all, from the queen to the slave, and materially raised the opinion of French officials among all and sundry.

M. Laroche laboured under the disadvantage in the eyes of his countrymen of being a Protestant, and a convert from Roman Catholicism. Even before he left Paris his enemies were at work for his ruin. The army was then under the influence of the Jesuits, a section of the Paris press took the same side, the French-Creole colonists also took up an attitude of hostility towards him. His downfall was thus only a matter of time. To add to his other offences he was accused of being ‘in the pay of Lord Salisbury’! This was regarded as sufficiently proved by some, by his friendly attitude towards the British, and especially British missionaries. It was noted that he did not lift his hat every time he passed the tricolour, and that he attended the French Protestant service, held in a schoolroom lent by the British. He was known to be making efforts to learn the language of the niggers. The fact was he could not trust the so-called interpreters.

These were some of the enormities brought against M. Laroche, and so he was ultimately recalled. He had set his heart on freeing the slaves. He was allowed to emancipate them, and did so on the last day of his governor-generalship.

When the Malagasy found that they had been betrayed they were greatly enraged, and said: ‘Well, the French may rule in Antanànarìvo, but they shall not rule here,’ and thousands rose against the new régime. This was a grave mistake, after things had gone so far; for what could they do with their spears, knives, and old flint-locks against French guns and rifles? If they had possessed arms, ammunition, and leaders, or any means of getting them, they might easily have wiped out the few French who were then in the island. Though it will scarcely be believed, yet there were some French credulous enough to think and say that the London Missionary Society supplied the natives with arms!

When the rising took place the French had not troops enough to cope with the situation, and reinforcements had to be sent for from Europe. In a very short time most parts of the central provinces were in a state of open rebellion, the backbone of the rising being the old heathen party, and the more disorderly masses of the population. For a time they were spoken of as fàhavàlo (enemies), but afterwards they were called mènalàmba (red plaids), because they coloured their cotton plaids with the red soil of the country, in order that they might not easily be recognized at a distance.

The rising really began within a few weeks after the French occupation of the capital, and had its origin in the rising of the Zànakàntitra tribe at Àmboànana in West Imèrina, after the murder of the Hova soldiers and officers, and the massacre of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson and child. The authorities had due warning of what was brewing, and if prompt measures had been taken, as they ought to have been, in the interests of all parties, the rising might have been put down very easily at the cost of a few lives; and thousands of lives—French and Malagasy—would thus have been saved. As the warnings came from the then hated British missionaries, who better knew the people and their feelings, they were only sneered at, and no attention paid to them. The French also had warning of the state of things in the south of Imèrina, but nothing was done, with the result that three French gentlemen, who went south then, were murdered on the road. They had slept at the London Missionary Society’s mission house at Tsìafàhy the previous night, had been warned of their danger, and of the great risk they were running, but they only laughed. Next day they were murdered.

Those who rose were led by fanatical sorcerers and such like, and their object was to drive, not only the French, but all white men of whatsoever nationality out of the country, and restore the old political and religious régime. Their numbers swelled rapidly, especially as they forced into their service all the able-bodied men they came across. Growing in audacity as they grew in numbers, they committed depredations and atrocities of all kinds, destroying all the churches and chapels they came across, burning the houses, threatening, and even taking the lives of some of those connected with the missionaries, while the rest were carried off into captivity. Soldiers were sent out to disperse them, and large numbers of Malagasy were killed as they rushed up boldly, time after time, to within a few yards of the French guns, trusting in the gun-charms, which they wore in profusion, and in the power of a certain idol named Ravòlòlona. This undisciplined rabble soon learned that they were no match for the troops sent out against them, and in a comparatively short time they tendered their submission. But soon after the insurrection was quelled in the west it broke out in other places. On some parts of the east coast the people rose, apparently not so much against the Europeans as against the Hovas, many of whom had for so long misruled and oppressed them.

‘In the eastern part of Imèrina, and even beyond its outskirts, rebellion was also rife, and numerous bands of insurgents prowled about the country committing various acts of brigandage and violence. They were concentrated chiefly on the road leading from Tàmatàve to the capital. Many of the convoys of men carrying goods from the coast were waylaid and dispossessed of their loads, the bearers being shot or speared if they offered any resistance.

‘Though the first insurgents in the west had given in their submission, others arose to take their place, and among various acts of violence committed by these desperate men must be reckoned, as the saddest of all, the assassination of our friends Messrs. Escande and Minault, Protestant missionaries of the Paris Missionary Society, who happened to be travelling through that part of the country at the time. In many distant places, too, anarchy reigned supreme, and for months the peaceable members of the community were at the mercy of prowling bands of lawless men, who, in the attempt to gain their ends, scrupled at no deed of violence. It became impossible for Europeans, and even for natives, to travel anywhere in the island without danger, a state of things the very reverse of that which had existed for so many years; for, except in certain remote places, the last thought that entered the mind of the traveller was that of danger. As, for a time, the French and native troops were insufficient to quell the revolt, the excited mobs drew nearer and nearer the capital, and for some weeks large conflagrations—schools, churches, or even whole villages set on fire by the rebels—were to be seen from the capital almost nightly. In one instance, a village was burnt within a mile of the capital, and no one would have been surprised if, at any time, an attempt had been made to fire the capital itself.

‘By this time many parts of the country, and more especially Imèrina, were in a state of seething anarchy, such as had never before been witnessed in the island, and vigorous and severe measures were necessary to repress it. To the work of pacification General Gallieni set himself. The greater part of the country was placed under martial law and divided up into military districts, outposts of soldiers were stationed in the more disaffected territories, many of the native government officials, who were supposed to be implicated, were banished or shot, and the rebels were attacked at numerous points, the undisciplined natives being worsted at every encounter, large numbers of them perishing. Accusations were also rife, and, as is always the case at such times, many innocent persons along with the guilty doubtless suffered death. But this energetic action soon began to tell; the insurgents were gradually dispersed, or from stress of other circumstances returned to their homes, and the leaders of the movement gave in their submission one after another, until finally (towards the close of 1897) the whole country, except the remote west and south, had once again settled down into peace.

‘The rebellion had brought nothing but disaster to all parties, and more especially to the natives. Their rice-fields had been neglected, and famine not only stared them in the face, but also, to some extent, overtook them. Their cattle had been raided, their rice-stores rifled, their houses looted, many of their villages burnt down, large tracts of territory practically devastated, and, most serious of all, great numbers of the people had suffered death, either at the hands of the rebels, from destitution, or from other causes. The rebellion had doubtless also something to do with the conversion of the island from a protectorate into an actual colony. The French too had suffered, for to them the repression of the insurrection meant the loss of life and treasure. The merchants, moreover, were losers, for during a considerable period trade was practically at a standstill. The various missions were also subjected to considerable losses. A large amount of property, including missionary residences, a sanatorium, a leper establishment, &c., were destroyed. Of the churches which, however, belonged to the natives associated with the various missions, including the Roman Catholic, the Anglican, the Friends’, the Lutheran, and our own, some 750 in number were burnt down or otherwise destroyed, about 500 of which were under the care of the London Missionary Society. Many of the pastors, preachers, evangelists, teachers, and prominent leaders in religious work, being connected more or less with foreigners, were made the chief objects of persecution by the rebels, and large numbers of them had to resort to flight in order to save their lives, leaving their property behind to be looted. Some of those that were caught, bravely refusing to forswear Christ and join in the revolt, were cruelly murdered.

‘The authority of the Hova sovereigns, though far-reaching, had never been more than nominal over certain parts of the island, and in some was even completely nil. In the highland regions of the interior, and all along the eastern slopes of the island, with the sole exception of a few districts inhabited by small tribes of Tanàla in the neighbourhood of Ikòngo, who were semi-independent, the authority of the queen was supreme. In the west, however, certain tribes, chiefly of the Sàkalàva, had maintained an independence more or less complete. Ruled over by innumerable kings and chiefs, they lived in a state of chronic rivalry and petty internecine warfare. Constant cattle-lifting and slave-raiding amongst the various tribes, which brought untold misery upon the inhabitants, had become an established curse, and travelling in the country was in general attended with considerable danger. A Hova military station existed here and there, but, for the most part, exerted little influence or authority over the surrounding people.

‘Since the French have established themselves in the island, however, these turbulent tribes of the west have been almost entirely subjugated. Numerous small military expeditions, sufficiently large, however, to overcome the resistance of the incoherent tribes of Sàkalàva, have been sent on by the French in all directions—north-west, west, south-west—to occupy the country. These have had many encounters with belligerent bands of insurgents and bushrangers, who, though sometimes vastly greater in numbers, have, in nearly all cases, been obliged to yield to the superior powers of the disciplined troops, and ultimately, if not immediately, to give in their submission. Military posts have been established in a large number of important centres, and, except in a few of the more remote districts, peace and security now reigns.’[33]