At the end of our passage, which was somewhat tedious and thoroughly uneventful, we had a death on board; the schoolmaster’s eldest child died of the croup. I was very disagreeably impressed on this occasion by the behavior of the mother. With the child on her lap--it had only died a few minutes before--the bereaved mother eagerly asked for bread, butter, and cheese, and a glass of water. When she began to drink the water, and found it was not sweetened, she scolded the girl, and sent her off for the sugar. After she had satisfied her hunger and thirst, the poor little child was dressed, and the scene of grief began. She took it in her arms, wept and sobbed, and seemed as if she could not part from it. A few hours afterward all signs of mourning had vanished, and one would have thought the poor child had never existed.
On the 16th of November, at noon, we at length cast anchor in front of Cape Town. For a description of this place, I refer my readers to my “Second Voyage round the World.”
It was Sunday, and I therefore refrained from going on shore. Where English people form the majority of the population, it is not customary to pay visits on this day; the good folks are all day long either at church, or praying at home, or supposed to be praying.
Cape Town is not so great but that the name of every stranger is known within a few hours after arrival; and on this first afternoon I received two friendly offers of hospitality for the time of my stay here--one from Madame Bloom, the other from Mr. Juritz, an apothecary.
On the morning of the 17th of November, I was engaged in packing up my few possessions before going ashore with the captain when a gentleman came on board and inquired for me. He introduced himself as Mr. Lambert, a Frenchman, and told me that he had been living in the island of Mauritius some years, and had, in fact, landed here on his return voyage to that island. He had heard in Paris of my intention of proceeding to Madagascar, and that I had been dissuaded from attempting the journey. Hearing yesterday of my arrival, he had hastened to invite me to go to Madagascar with him, if I had not entirely abandoned my project. He had been in the island about two years before, and was personally acquainted with the queen. He had written to her from Paris, requesting permission to pay a second visit, for no one is allowed to land in Madagascar without the queen’s consent. He hoped to find this permission awaiting him at the Mauritius, and would write immediately on his arrival to obtain a similar permission for me, which he had no doubt would be granted; only, if I intended to undertake the journey, I must make up my mind at once, as the steamer would start for the Mauritius on the following day. In consequence of the rainy season having set in at Madagascar, the voyage from the Mauritius thither could not be commenced until the beginning of April; but, in the interval, Mr. Lambert assured me I should find the heartiest welcome in his house.