‘With the accession of Radàma II a new era in the history of Madagascar began. For although not himself a Christian, he had long been recognized as the friend and protector of the persecuted Christians; and one of his first acts, as King of Madagascar, was to proclaim religious liberty, a blessing so earnestly desired by hundreds of his subjects, but so persistently denied by his mother[20].

‘The reopening of Madagascar to the Gospel stirred up in other churches a strong desire to share in Christian work. Even before the arrival of the Rev. William Ellis (who had been sent out by the Directors of the London Missionary Society to reopen the mission), Roman Catholic priests and workers had reached the capital. From the first these agents pursued the invariable policy of Rome. They denounced Protestantism, they attempted to secure the direction of affairs, and they showed no scruples in the means they used to secure their ends.

‘French political agents were also already on the spot, and active in their efforts, only too successful, to gain an influence over the king, and to aggrandize France. The French Consul was M. Laborde, and in close association with him was M. Lambert, who, in 1857, had been banished along with M. Laborde and others by Rànavàlona because detected in a plot to dethrone her. Mr. Pakenham, the English Consul—“the degenerate son of a noble sire, married to a low French-Creole woman”—contrary to all reasonable expectation, took the side of the French as against Mr. Ellis, and did all in his power to lower the missionary’s influence and weaken his authority[21].

‘On September 23, 1862, in the presence of an immense gathering of natives, and a fair number of Europeans, including the English and French embassies, Radàma II was crowned. At that time he appeared to be almost the idol of his people; and little did those present at the ceremony of September anticipate that within eight months the reign that had been begun under such favourable auspices would come to a tragic and melancholy end. Had the weakness and instability of Radàma’s character been better known and more fully considered, and had his dissoluteness and licentiousness been better known, the sad termination of his short reign would have produced far less surprise. His steady friendship for the persecuted Christians, his hatred of bloodshed, and his desire to stand well in the estimation of Europeans are well known. But the darker side of his character seems never to have been known or understood by those most interested in his career. A halo of romance was consequently thrown around the youthful king in the imagination of many; and hence the violent shock and bitter disappointment caused by his death. A juster estimate of his character has probably long since been formed by those most interested in Madagascar. Probably, however, there still lurks in the minds of some the idea that the character of Radàma underwent a more rapid deterioration than was actually the case; and that during the early part of his short reign he was one of whom it might have been said that he was “not far from the Kingdom of God.” Such a favourable view of his character is, however, utterly opposed to facts but too well known in Madagascar.’

While the above statements from the pen of my friend the Rev. W. E. Cousins are no doubt accurate, and it is also true that the Rev. William Ellis was greatly deceived as to the real character of Radàma, and grossly imposed upon, it is nevertheless a fact that the ruin of the unfortunate king was accelerated, and his untimely end much hastened, by the conduct of some who went to the capital to be present at his coronation and remained there, and aided and encouraged him in his downward course, and in the orgies practised in his palace. Things were brought to a crisis by the king insanely throwing all Malagasy law and tradition to the winds, and wishing to introduce and legalize the custom of duelling. It is said that the prime minister, the commander-in-chief, and the officers of the palace besought him on their knees with tears not to introduce such a practice; but he would not relent. The prime minister deliberately asked him: ‘Do you mean to say that if two men quarrel, they can go out and fight with swords or pistols, and if one kills the other the murderer shall not be punished?’ To which the king replied: ‘that’s it, that’s exactly what I mean.’ The prime minister then said: ‘But we cannot have that.’ To that the king replied: ‘But I will have it; I am the king, and I shall have what I please.’ ‘That is enough,’ said the prime minister. ‘It is time for us to see to our own interests,’ and left the palace. The obnoxious order cost the king his life.

‘In estimating the effect of Radàma’s policy upon the Church of Christ in Madagascar, it must be acknowledged that his thorough hatred of restraint of every kind, and the absolute freedom granted by him to all classes of his subjects, allowed the long repressed power of Christianity to assert itself, and by its rapid progress to take such a firm hold upon the people of the central province of Imèrina as to convince the government of the folly of again attempting a policy of repression.

‘Radàma II was succeeded by his widow, Rabòdo, who was proclaimed queen on the afternoon of the day on which her husband was assassinated, under the title of Ràsohèrina. Before she was proclaimed, a paper was presented to her by ministers, advisers, and officers containing seven articles, one of which set forth the terms upon which she would be acknowledged as queen—that Christianity should never more be forbidden or hindered by the government of Madagascar! It was generally understood that that was mainly, if not entirely, the work of the late prime minister. The new queen was personally unfavourable to the Christian religion; but during the five years of her reign she never openly deviated from that agreement, the acceptance of which was made a condition of her assuming the crown. In many respects the reign of Ràsohèrina was a period of retrogression, and the Christians were often troubled by the fear of another outbreak of persecution.

‘At several of the great kabàries, or public assemblies, held at various times during the reign of Ràsohèrina, messages hostile to Christianity were sent to her by representatives of some of the more important places. But her uniform answer to such messages was that she was determined not to depart from the policy of toleration with which her reign began. Towards the end of the reign of Ràsohèrina a more steady confidence gained ground among the people; and Christianity continued to make slow but real progress. Treaties of friendship were made with Great Britain (signed June 27, 1865), and with America (signed February 14, 1867); and thus the fears of any breach between Europeans and the Hova government, and of any consequent hostility to Christianity, were dispelled.

‘A French treaty was under consideration in Ràsohèrina’s reign; but was not finally agreed to till August 8, 1868, some months after the accession of Rànavàlona II.’ To the honour of Great Britain and of Britain’s late noble and beloved Queen be it told, ‘that the British Consul, who negotiated the treaty of friendship, was charged with a special personal message from Queen Victoria, asking that, as an expression of friendship to herself, the Queen of Madagascar would not allow the native Christians to be persecuted on account of their religion. This noble request had the desired effect, by securing the insertion of the toleration clause in the treaty: “Her Majesty the Queen of Madagascar, from her friendship for Her Britannic Majesty, promises to grant full religious liberty to all her subjects.” This will form, in the estimation of many, one of the brightest jewels in the crown of the late great Queen, whilst it will remind some of the memorable message sent from Windsor Castle by Queen Adelaide in March, 1837, to the persecuting Rànavàlona I: “Tell the Queen of Madagascar from me, that she can do nothing so beneficial to her country and her people as receive the Christian religion[22].”’

Thus, from 1865 to 1896, the Malagasy people owed it to the late Queen Victoria that they enjoyed (what they once more enjoy) the fullest religious toleration. It was little wonder, therefore, that they had the most extraordinary admiration and veneration for Her Majesty, though they could not understand how it was that she forsook them at the last—as they thought—and did not come to their help. I believe many thought that her prime minister, or some of her advisers, had told her lies about them, otherwise their great and good friend Queen Victoria could never have deserted them.

‘Queen Ràsohèrina died on Wednesday, April 1, 1868; and early on the morning of Thursday, April 2, Ramòma, a first cousin of Ràsohèrina, was proclaimed Queen of Madagascar under the title of Rànavàlona II. No idols were brought forth when she made her first public appearance to the people on the balcony of the large palace; and no idols were to be seen at the funeral of Queen Ràsohèrina. From all that could be learned at the time, the new reign promised to be more favourable to Christianity than that of Ràsohèrina had been.

‘The attempt that had been made to change the government had failed; but the strong desire on the part of the people for more liberal measures had been clearly shown; and the rulers of the country saw that they had been standing upon a mine ready to explode at any moment, and that their continuance in power must depend upon their keeping in harmony with the advancing ideas of their people[23].’

Things had come to a crisis, and the rulers of the country had to make up their minds either to lead the people or be led by them. They could not afford to follow, so they were bound to lead them. Various changes were accordingly made. The new queen had in early life been interested in Christianity, and much impressed with the truths taught her by her nurse, a slave woman in her father’s household and a secret Christian, who sometimes took her young mistress to a midnight prayer-meeting. She had also felt the power of the words secretly read to her from the Bible by one of the native preachers; and a Bible, or some books of it, were said to have been hid for years in one of the corners of her father’s courtyard.

Little did that poor slave woman and native preacher dream of the service they were rendering future generations and the Kingdom of God by their efforts to fill the mind of that young princess with the truths of Christianity. The good seed of the Kingdom, which had been sown in her mind, seemed for years as if it had been choked by the corruptions of the court of her aunt, Queen Rànavàlona I, and kept from bringing forth fruit by the persecutions of those terrible times. The truth was not dead, however; for the announcement that she was to be the future queen seemed to have quickened it into life, and to have led her to think seriously of the opportunity soon to be hers of serving God and His Cause, by taking a stand for Him and His Word. She informed her officers that she meant to worship the true God, and she began her reign by having family worship in her palace morning and evening.

‘One by one there came indications that the queen and the prime minister would declare themselves Christians. At the coronation of the queen, which took place on September 3, 1868, the declaration in favour of Christianity was unmistakable; for the people were told in the royal proclamation (art. 8)—“And this also is my word to you, ye under heaven, in regard to the praying: it is not enforced; it is not forbidden; for God made you.”

‘Rànavàlona I, the cruel persecuting queen—the “Bloody Mary” of Madagascar—had done her best to burn and destroy all the Bibles in the land; but Rànavàlona II, the Christian Queen of Madagascar, had a Bible placed on a table at her side in sight of the thousands of her subjects, gathered from all parts of Madagascar to be present at her coronation. And thus for the first time the Bible and the crown were associated in Madagascar.

‘The reign of Rànavàlona I was one of terror and bloodshed; but at the coronation of Rànavàlona II the words—“Glory to God”; “Peace on earth”; “Good will among men”; “God shall be with us” were inscribed in letters of gold on the canopy under which her throne was placed. These things augured well for the progress of Christianity, and time proved that they were not mere empty symbols, but that Rànavàlona II and her very able and enlightened prime minister were most anxious to see Madagascar a Christian country; and a succession of most important events afterwards made this evident to all[24].’

‘On the Sabbath, October 25, 1868, a religious service was begun in the palace for the benefit of the queen and prime minister and their attendants. From the beginning, up to April, 1880, this service was conducted by native preachers only. Probably some fear of difficulty with the French kept the queen from asking any of the British missionaries to take part in the services. About the same time as the palace service was begun all government work was stopped on the Sabbath. The various markets formerly held on the Sabbath were ordered to be changed to some other day. Proclamations were made throughout the country to the effect that the queen commanded the people to abstain from all work on the Sabbath; and on February 21, 1869, the queen and the prime minister were publicly baptized[25].’

On July 20, 1869, the foundation-stone of a chapel royal was laid, and in the cavity the following statement was placed:—

‘By the power of God, and the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, I, Rànavàlona, Queen of Madagascar, founded this House of Prayer on the 13 Adimizàna (July 20), in the year of the Lord Jesus Christ 1869, as a House of Prayer for the praise and service of God, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, according to the word in the sacred Scriptures, by Jesus Christ the Lord, who died for the sins of all men, and rose again for the justification and salvation of all who believe in and love Him.

‘For these reasons this stone house, founded by me as a House of Prayer, cannot be destroyed by any one, whoever may be sovereign of this my land, for ever and for ever; for if he (or she) shall destroy this House of Prayer to God which I have founded, then is he (or she) no longer sovereign of my land Madagascar.

‘Wherefore I have signed my name with my hand and the seal of the kingdom.

‘(Signed) Rànavàlomanjàka,

‘Queen of Madagascar.

‘This word is genuine, and the signature by the hand of Rànavàlomanjàka is genuine,’ (says) Rainilaiàrivòny, prime minister and commander-in-chief of Madagascar.

‘Mr. William Pool, of the London Missionary Society, made the designs for this house of prayer[26].’

The building, when finished, was publicly opened by the queen in person, on April 8, 1880, when missionaries of the London Missionary Society and the Friends’ Foreign Mission Association preached and presided, having been requested to do so by Her Majesty. After the first day of the opening, the chapel royal was thrown open to the congregations of the twenty sections, or districts, into which the mission of the London Missionary Society and the Friends’ Foreign Mission Association were divided, and Her Majesty worshipped there with her people in her own chapel royal every day for twenty days! The chapel royal is certainly a beautiful building, and reflects the greatest credit upon the late Mr. W. Pool, the architect and builder for the London Missionary Society in Madagascar, by whom the plans were drawn, and who also superintended its erection, as well as upon the Malagasy workmen employed. It may also be very fairly said to have been ‘a visible manifestation to all of the unhesitating manner in which the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ had been adopted by the rulers of Madagascar, and confirmed the truth of what Queen Rànavàlona II repeatedly stated on public occasions after her accession to the throne: “I rest my kingdom upon God!”’

On September 8, 1869, Ikèlimalàza (the small but famous Sàmpy), the chief royal idol in Imèrina (the central province of Madagascar), was committed to the flames by the orders of Rànavàlona II, Queen of Madagascar. During the remainder of the month of September, a general burning of idols and charms took place all over the provinces of Imèrina and Vònizòngo; and the great majority of the people, in those two provinces at least, destroyed their idols—the objects of veneration and terror for ages—without any great signs of grief at their loss.

Some seem to have thought that it was a mere matter of state policy on the part of the queen and prime minister to profess Christianity when they did. But, looking to her consistent conduct and earnest Christian character to the end of her reign, I believe that on the part of the late queen, at least, it was a matter of the purest and highest principle. But even if it had been a mere matter of policy, surely Christian policy, and the policy which brought such blessings to multitudes and to the Church of Christ, was a good thing for Madagascar.

The congregations, both in the capital and in the country districts, grew in numbers, and indeed were almost swamped by additions from heathenism or semi-heathenism; while some six hundred village congregations were formed in various parts of the provinces of Imèrina, Bètsilèo, Antsihànaka, and on the coasts within twelve months. The people gathered together on the Sabbaths, but there was no one to preach, or even read the Scriptures to them. In some cases they met, simply sat quiet for a time in the building they had erected, and then dispersed; or they sang a hymn, or a verse of one, over and over again before breaking up.

From all parts of the country there came applications to the missionaries for teachers and preachers, which they could not meet. So that the work done during the last thirty years has been mainly that of teaching heathen, or semi-heathen, congregations what are the first principles of the Gospel of Christ. We have, however, had very apt scholars, and they have made extraordinary progress in many directions, and doubtless would have made even greater advance had they had better teachers. Much of the success has been due to the circulation of the Word of God among the people. For, although the majority of the missionaries have given their best and done their very utmost, still the sad thing has always been that we could never overtake a hundredth part of our work, or do it as we should have liked, and as it ought to have been done. How could we? Most of us had charge of a mother-church and the oversight of some sixty village congregations or preaching stations and day schools. In one case a hundred and twenty were reported to be, in a very nominal way, connected with one mother-church; and, the tie being so slight, the results were only what might have been expected.

The work has always suffered from its very success—suffered in depth from its vast extension, for it is hardly possible to have both depth and extension at the same time. It has also suffered somewhat, as was to be expected, from the imperfections of the native agents who had to be employed as pastors, local preachers, and evangelists. For while the majority of these did marvellously well, all things considered, and many of them were really gifted speakers, yet very few had had training of any kind or even much instruction. Most extravagant expectations were entertained of them and the work they could do, mainly because of their number and it seemed to have been quite forgotten how very recently they had emerged from heathenism.

Great mistakes have sometimes been made with regard to the Madagascar Mission. Many supposed that the burning of the idols in Imèrina meant that all the Malagasy had been converted, and some have still the idea that the whole of Madagascar—an island four times the size of England and Wales—has been Christianized. Yet, as a matter of fact, only about one million—out of five—of those in the central provinces have been reached. The burning of the idols, which was greatly overruled for the glory of God and the cause of Christianity in Madagascar, was indeed an event for which we have all the greatest reason to feel most profoundly thankful; but it by no means meant the conversion of all the Malagasy. And, notwithstanding all the good work done, two-thirds of the island is still in heathen darkness.

By burning the idols the Malagasy government simply assumed a new attitude towards Christianity and Christian civilization. The vast majority of the people in the central province of Imèrina and the adjacent districts and provinces followed the example set them by the queen and government; but they did so mainly from loyalty or fear, and not from any real heart-love for the Christian religion. Doubtless there were hundreds—I should like to believe there were thousands—who were actuated by higher and nobler motives, some by the very highest and holiest, and who rejoiced and sincerely thanked God for the change of policy which He, in His providence, had led the rulers of the land to initiate.

Still the fact remains that the movement was mainly a political one on the part of the majority of Her Majesty’s advisers, and could in no sense be truly and honestly called ‘the conversion of the Malagasy as a nation to God’ by any one who understood the real state of the case. The Malagasy as a people were not converted at the burning of the idols. They and their rulers took up a new position with regard to Christianity, and made it no longer a crime to worship God. As a result of this, there was a large influx into the existing churches of semi-heathenism, while some six hundred new ones were formed in the province of Imèrina alone within twelve months.

The news of the burning of the idols reached the Directors of the London Missionary Society in London about the middle of January, 1870, and they decided to reinforce the Madagascar Mission by four new missionaries. On January 17 I was asked if I would be one of the four, who were to sail the following month. I consented, and was told to go and prepare at once, as the vessel by which we were to sail was posted for February 26. I immediately set to work to get ready, and within a month was ordained and married, and had bought, packed, and sent off our outfit and stores, and said farewell to my friend James Gilmour and other friends. On the way to London, however, I had the misfortune to be struck down with typhoid fever, which detained us some six weeks longer in the country, so that it was not until April 6 that we sailed from Gravesend in the ‘Sea Breeze’ for Mauritius. I was in a very weak state when we left England, and did not derive much benefit from the voyage; consequently was not much stronger when we reached Mauritius.

We reached Mauritius on Sabbath evening, July 3, having been eighty-four days on the voyage from England; and we left Mauritius again for Madagascar on Saturday, July 9, reaching Tàmatàve on Thursday, July 14, and Antanànarìvo on Saturday, July 30, fully five months from the time we left home. As might be expected in the circumstances, my journey from the coast to the capital was far from comfortable. For there are pleasanter experiences than being jolted on the shoulders of four bearers for over 200 miles, in a very poor apology for even a Malagasy palanquin, while suffering from an acute attack of sciatica.

We spent our first Sabbath in Madagascar, on our way from the coast to the capital, at one of the mission stations of the Church Missionary Society, where we had a very quiet, comfortable day, although unfortunately the missionary was from home. We had met him on his way to Tàmatàve, when he expressed his regret at being unable to entertain us in person at his station, and most kindly gave us liberty to occupy his house, and to make use of all we wanted. We attended most interesting native services in the mission chapel. Our journey up country, through the great forest with its thousands of orchids and tree-ferns, over the thickly wooded mountains, up the great river, and across the plains and plateaus, had all the pleasures of novelty, while the songs of our men, as they paddled us up the rivers, added to our enjoyment.

The climbing over the mountain ranges was very fatiguing. It was the cold season, when the south-east winds prevail, which render the nights on the plateau of Imèrina most piercingly cold, and we found them growing much colder as we penetrated further into the interior. As we could not speak to our men, we had to leave them to proceed in their own fashion, and carry us when and where they pleased. They were all fond of long journeys; but unfortunately all did not travel at the same rate. The palanquin-bearers kept rushing on, so as to get up to the capital as soon as possible; while the porters with the bedding, boxes, and provisions followed more slowly. On two occasions we did not reach the village where we were to spend the night until long after dark. One night the porters with our beds and provisions did not overtake us at all, and in consequence we had to go supperless to such beds as we could make for ourselves under the circumstances, had a very wretched night, and had to start next morning—a very cold, drizzly one—without our usual cup of coffee. This, and the night of torment we had suffered from mosquitoes and the other insects for which Malagasy villages are notorious, did not tend to put us in a very happy frame of mind.

At last, on the ninth morning of our journey, we saw Antanànarìvo (‘the city of a thousand men’—not towns—the full and original form having been Antanànarìvolàhy), the capital of Madagascar, about forty miles away. We reached Ambàtovòry that afternoon, where we found a small European house, with a member of the Friends’ Mission waiting for us. We entered the capital next day. We were met a few miles from it by the members of the London Missionary Society and Friends’ Missions, who all gave us a most warm and hearty reception. We had reached our destination.

Central Madagascar can in no sense be called either picturesque or beautiful. Those who have described the bare plateau and bald hills of Imèrina as beautiful must either have an inaccurate notion of what constitutes beauty of scenery or must have viewed that portion of the island through a highly-coloured medium. As a general rule, not only is the central province of Imèrina without the two main elements of beauty—variety of outline and variety of colour—but the features are rarely so grouped together as to form any distinct or impressive combination. The tangled and almost featureless hills of the lowlands of Scotland afford perhaps the nearest parallel to them that I know; but even they are beauty itself, and picturesque in the extreme, when compared with the characterless hills, dales, and ditches of Imèrina.

It is only fair to say, however, that we saw Central Madagascar for the first time at its worst—in the middle of the cold season, when all is bleak, bare, and desolate-looking. In the early months of the year, after the first rains have fallen, when the young rice is appearing in the rice-fields, and the downs and hill-sides are covered with the fresh dark green grass, it is very different. It was at that season that the lamented Mr. Cameron, the war correspondent of The Standard, saw Central Madagascar in 1884, and although the beautiful little piece of word-painting, in which he tells us how it appeared to him, may seem slightly overdone, it is worth quoting, as the testimony of a man of such shrewdness and world-wide experience to the change that mission work had wrought over the once barbarous Hovas. He says:

‘Antanànarìvo itself 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 on which the city is built. It was Sunday, and the people were clustering along the footpaths on their way to church, or sitting on the grass outside waiting for the service to begin, as they do 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 làmbas thrown gracefully over their shoulders. The men were clad also in cotton—white cotton pantaloons, cotton làmbas, and straw hats with large black silk bands.

‘In the morning sun the play of colours 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 footpaths, contrasted with the brighter emerald of the rice-fields in the hollows. The soil everywhere is deep red, almost magenta in colour, 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 the 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[27].’