The “Queen’s Bath.”--Soldiers and Officers.--Banquet and
Ball.--Departure from Tamatavé.--Second Visit to
Antandroroko.--Vovong.--The Fever.--Andororanto.--Land and
Cultivation.--Condition of the People.--Manambotre.--The bad Roads
and the Bearers.--Ambatoarana.
At length, on the 13th of May, Mr. Lambert arrived. On the 15th I
witnessed the preliminary celebration of the great bath-feast of the
queen. This is the only national feast in Madagascar, and it is kept
with great solemnity in all the dominions subject to the sceptre of
Ranavola.
I did not see the great feast itself, and can therefore only repeat to
my readers the description I received from several eye-witnesses. It is
celebrated on the first day of every year, and may thus be called the
New-year’s feast of Madagascar. But the Malagaseys do not follow our
method of reckoning time, though they divide the year into twelve months
as we do. Each of their months is _lunar_, and when the moon has renewed
itself twelve times their year is past.
On the eve of the feast, all the high officers, nobles, and chiefs
appear at court, invited by the queen. They assemble in a great hall,
and presently a dish of rice is carried round, each guest taking a pinch
in his fingers and eating it. That is the whole extent of the ceremony
on this first evening.
Next morning the same company assemble in the same hall. As soon as they
have all met, the queen steps behind a curtain which hangs in a corner
of the room, undresses, and has water thrown over her. As soon as she
has been dressed again, she steps forward, holding in her hand an
ox-horn filled with the water that has been poured over her. Part of
this water she sprinkles over the assembled company. Then she betakes
herself to a gallery overlooking the court-yard of the palace, and pours
the rest over the military drawn up there on parade.
On this auspicious day nothing is seen throughout the whole country but
feasting, dancing, singing, and rejoicing, continued till late at night.
The celebration is kept up for eight days, dating from the day of the
bath. It is the custom for people to kill as many oxen on the first day
as they contemplate consuming during the other seven: whoever possesses
any oxen at all, kills at least one at this feast. The poor people get
pieces of meat in exchange for rice, sweet potatoes, tobacco, etc. The
meat is still tolerably fresh on the eighth day. It is cut into long
thin strips, which are salted and laid one upon the other. The
preliminary celebration of the feast occurs a week earlier, and consists
of military processions. The votaries of pleasure then begin their
feast, and thus have a fortnight’s jollity--a week before the feast, and
a week after.
The soldiers whom I saw in the processions at Tamatavé pleased me well
enough. They went through their drill and manœuvres with tolerable
accuracy, and, contrary to my expectation, I found the music not only
endurable, but positively harmonious. It appears that, some years ago,
the queen sent for a European band-master and a complete set of
instruments, and her worthy subjects were inducted into a knowledge of
music, probably by means of the stick. She succeeded in her attempt, and
many of the pupils are already become masters, and spread the science
among their fellow-countrymen.
The soldiers were dressed in a simple, neat, and perfectly uniform
manner. They wore a tight-fitting jerkin, reaching to the chest and
covering part of the loins. The chest was bare, and covered by the
gleaming white belts supporting the cartridge-box, which had a good
effect in contrast to the black skins of the soldiers. Their heads were
uncovered. Their arms consisted of a musket and the national lance,
called _sagaya_.
The officers looked comical enough. They went about in threadbare
civilian suits, that forcibly reminded me of the fashions which
prevailed when I was a child.
To these quizzical costumes, the ugly black faces and woolly hair gave
such an effect that the whole was overwhelmingly funny, and I lamented
that I had no skill in drawing, for I might have produced some wonderful
caricatures from the models before me.
Except on parade and at exercise, the officers, like the soldiers, wear
a costume that suits them. The soldiers live in a kind of barracks, in
the court-yard of which the exercise is performed and the courts-martial
are held. Europeans are strictly prohibited from entering these
barracks.
The Queen of Madagascar can easily put herself at the head of a powerful
army. Nothing but her potent word is needed to bring it together; for
the soldiers receive no pay, and are obliged, moreover, to clothe and
feed themselves. They procure provisions by going out to work, with the
permission of their superiors; or they go home to cultivate their
fields. But the soldier who wants his officer’s permission for frequent
absence must propitiate the latter by giving him a part of his
earnings--at least a dollar annually. The officers are generally very
little richer than the soldiers. They certainly receive, like the civil
officials, a remuneration for their services from the customs revenue;
but the pay is so small that they can not live upon it, and are
compelled to have recourse to other means, not always of the most honest
description. According to the law, a very small portion of the customs
revenue ought to come to the private soldier; but I am told the officers
find the amount so trifling that they do not take the trouble to give
any account of it, and prefer keeping it entirely for themselves, so
that the poor soldier who can not find work, and is too far from his
home to be able to visit it from time to time, is literally in danger of
being starved to death. He is obliged to endeavor to support life with
herbs and roots, and all kinds of makeshifts (sometimes very nauseous
ones), and may think himself lucky if he gets a little rice now and
then. This rice the poor fellow throws into a large vessel filled with
water, drinks the thin rice-water in the daytime, and only at evening
allows himself a handful of the grain. But in war-time, as soon as he is
on an enemy’s territory, he makes amends to himself for the hardships he
has endured; then he plunders and steals right and left; villages are
burned to the ground, and the inhabitants killed or dragged away to be
sold as slaves.
After parade was over, the officers drew up, accompanied by the band,
before our (or, more properly, speaking, Mademoiselle Julie’s) house, to
salute Mr. Lambert, and invite him to a feast in the queen’s name. This
is the only expense the queen is in the habit of incurring for people
whom she wishes to treat with distinction.
Mr. Lambert treated the officers to some good wine, whereupon they
marched off to the strains of the national hymn, which really sounded
melodious enough.
On the 17th of May, the solemn banquet was held in the house of the
first judge of the kingdom. The hour was fixed for three o’clock, but
they did not come to fetch us until five. We betook ourselves to the
house, which stood in the midst of a large square or court-yard, with
palings around it. The soldiers stood in a double line from the entrance
of the court to the house, and the national hymn was played as we
passed. We were conducted at once to the dining-hall. Two sentries, with
crossed muskets, stood before the door, but this did not prevent any one
who listed from going quietly in and out.
The company, consisting of about thirty people, had already assembled
to receive the guest of the day, Mr. Lambert, with due honor.
The first governor, who is at the same time commandant at Tamatavé, wore
black European clothes, and across his chest a broad red satin ribbon,
like that of an order; but, wonderful to relate, there are no orders yet
in Madagascar. The second governor had donned an old European suit of
faded sky-blue silk velvet, richly embroidered with gold; and the other
gentlemen were likewise dressed in European fashion.
The table was covered with dishes of meat of all kinds, tame and wild
fowl, fish, and other marine productions. I do not think I exaggerate
when I say there were above forty dishes, great and small. The principal
show-dish was the head of a calf of rather large size, so stripped of
flesh that it looked like a skull, and produced any thing but an
agreeable effect. There were likewise many different kinds of beverages,
French wines and port, English beer, etc. After the meat, little
badly-made tarts of various kinds were served, and the banquet ended
with fruit and Champagne. Of the last-mentioned wine there was plenty,
and it was drunk out of tumblers.
As far as I could see, all the guests seemed blessed with extraordinary
powers as trenchermen, nor did they forget to do honor to the wines, and
great was the number of toasts proposed.
Whenever the health of the commandant, of the second governor, or of an
absent prince was proposed, one of the officers went to the door and
shouted out to the soldiers in the yard the name of the person thus
honored; thereupon the music struck up, and all the gentlemen drank the
toast, standing.
The dinner lasted full four hours. It was nine o’clock at night when we
quitted the table and betook ourselves to an adjoining room, where
English beer was again offered to us. After this, to my great
astonishment, two of the highest officers danced a kind of
_contre-danse_; others followed their example and indulged in a polka.
At first I considered this fancy for dancing to be a consequence of the
Champagne they had imbibed; but Mr. Lambert enlightened my ignorance,
and told me that these dances were part of the etiquette of the
occasion. I thought it a strange custom, but was infinitely amused at
the grotesque figures of the performers, and felt quite sorry that they
did not continue the exercise longer. As a conclusion to the solemnity,
the health of the queen was drunk in a liqueur flavored with aniseed,
and to the accompaniment of the national hymn. After the royal toast
nothing more may be proposed; to do so would be considered an offense
against her royal majesty, who, like her deceased husband, exacts
something very like worship from her people.
Accordingly we broke up. When, on my way out, I went for my parasol,
which, on entering the room, I had deposited in a corner, I found it was
gone--it had shared the unhappy fate of my watch.
Though theft is punished with great severity, frequently even with
death, and though it is lawful to kill a thief caught in the fact
without any explanation to the authorities, there is more thieving in
Tamatavé than any where else. As I have already said, it is not at all
unusual for officers and men of rank to take part in nocturnal
burglaries. A few years ago a robbery of some magnitude was perpetrated
in Tamatavé, and the majority of the stolen articles were discovered in
an officer’s possession. The man who had been robbed did not receive
back the chief part of his property; but he got some, with an injunction
to say nothing about the robbery, unless he wished to expose himself to
very disagreeable consequences; and so the affair ended.
It is seldom that any one gives information to the authorities of a
theft. In small affairs it is not worth while, as the detection of the
thief and restoration of the property scarcely ever follow; and in
robberies of any magnitude, persons of high position are almost sure to
be implicated, and it would be dangerous to proceed against these. That
the soldiers are among the most confirmed thieves is not to be marveled
at, considering their miserable position. The officer or employé
certainly has only a very small salary, but, at any rate, he gets
something. Besides, he is a merchant or a landed proprietor, has slaves
who work for him, and even makes a profit out of the soldiers who serve
under him; but the poor private generally receives nothing at all, and
it is almost too much to expect that he should submit quietly to die of
hunger.
On the 19th of May we at length set out on our journey to Tananariva,
the capital of the island. Our party consisted of Mr. Marius, Mr.
Lambert, and myself. Mr. Marius, a Frenchman by birth, had been living
for twenty years in Madagascar. He accompanied Mr. Lambert on his
journey from a feeling of friendship, and undertook the office of
interpreter and the general direction of the journey, and his kind
assistance was of the greatest value to us.
The whole previous day and half of the present one we had been fully
employed wrapping up the chests and boxes containing presents for the
queen and Prince Rakoto, and our own baggage, in great dry leaves, to
protect them against the rain.
Mr. Lambert had bought the presents for the queen and her court with his
own money, and not, as they asserted in the Mauritius, with funds from
the French government. The presents consisted of full and very expensive
toilets for the queen and some of the princesses, her relations, rich
uniforms embroidered with gold for Prince Rakoto, and valuable
art-objects of all kinds, including several musical clocks, barrel
organs, and similar toys. On these presents Mr. Lambert had spent more
than 200,000 francs. For the conveyance of these treasures to the
capital more than four hundred persons were required, who received the
same pay as the soldiers; that is to say, none at all, for service of
this kind is compulsory. Along the whole route the convoy had been
announced, and the poor bearers had to be at certain stations on the
road at an appointed time.
The people, about two hundred in number, who were to carry us and our
personal luggage, were paid by Mr. Lambert. The fee for a bearer from
Tamatavé to Tananariva, a distance of two hundred and twenty miles, is
only a dollar; and even provisions are not found by the hirer. Mr.
Lambert promised them good food besides the dollar, whereupon they
expressed their gratitude by loud shouts and rejoicings.
The first day we only traveled seven miles, and passed the night at
Antandroroko, the estate of Mademoiselle Julie’s younger son. Here
things looked very differently from the appearance they had presented on
the day when I came alone. I am far from being vain enough to suppose
that I should have been received like Mr. Lambert, the powerful friend
of the queen; but the difference need not have been quite so glaring.
To-day every thing was done in European style, and the table was hardly
large enough to hold the dishes piled together upon it.
But so it is all the world over--rich people find friendly faces every
where, and are received with every mark of good-will and respect; but
when the poorer guest arrives, the mask is taken off; and whoever
travels as I do, gets to know human nature as it is, and the verdict can
very seldom be given in its favor. How different from my description of
this country would an account be from the pen of Mr. Lambert! What
encomiums might he not pass on the hospitality of the people who often
received me with frigid, uncourteous welcome! I fancy it was only to the
consideration with which Mr. Lambert treated me that I owed the boon of
a musquito-net, which was actually provided for my bed on this occasion.
May 20th. To-day we traveled the whole day long on lakes and rivers. The
largest of the former was the Nosive Lake, which is about eleven miles
long by five broad. The Nossmasay and Rassaby are almost of equal
extent. As we approached a small island in the last of these lakes, our
boat’s company suddenly began to yell and execrate with all their might.
I thought some accident had happened, but Mr. Marius gave me the
following explanation of the affair:
Many years ago a marvel of female beauty is said to have dwelt near this
lake, but her life was the reverse of virtuous. This Messalina of
Madagascar attained great fame, and considered herself greatly flattered
thereby. She died young, and, in order to keep her memory green in
future days, she besought her numerous admirers, on her death-bed, that
she might be buried on this little island, and furthermore expressed a
wish that all who passed by should roar and swear as loudly as they
could, in remembrance of her.
Her admirers complied with her wish, and gradually the custom became
universal.
The other lakes which we had to traverse were very small, and so were
the rivers. A great loss of time was occasioned by the fact that very
few of these silent highways communicated with one another. Between
almost every lake and stream and its neighbor lay a little tract of dry
land, from a hundred to a thousand paces in length, so that our boats
were continually being unloaded and carried over. This was a hard day’s
work for our people; but, at any rate, they had the satisfaction of
being well fed on their journey. Mr. Lambert had quite a paternal care
for their comfort, and there was always fresh meat and rice in
abundance.
Our way lay near the sea-coast, and we constantly heard the sound of the
breakers. The land was flat and monotonous, but the rich vegetation gave
it a cheerful appearance; in our progress we noticed some very
flourishing plantations, and water-palms in abundance.
Our quarters for the night were fixed in the village of Vovong, in a
house belonging to the government. On the way from Tamatavé to the
capital there are houses of this description in many villages, and these
houses are open to all travelers. The interior is spread with clean
mats, which the inhabitants are bound to furnish; they are also
responsible for the repairing the houses, and keeping them in proper
condition.
May 21. To-day our journey was again on the waters: first, a short
distance on the River Monsa; then our bearers had to carry the boat for
at least half a mile, after which we embarked again on a little stream,
very narrow, and so overshadowed by small trees, bushes, and aquatic
plants that we could often scarcely force the boat through. This journey
reminded me of similar trips in Singapore and Borneo, with this
difference, that in the latter places our way lay through virgin forests
of gigantic trees. After a few miles we came to a broader stream, of
peculiarly transparent and limpid water, in which every object was
reflected with a clearness and brilliancy I had never before seen.
In these lower lands, and, with few exceptions, along the whole coast of
Madagascar, the climate is very unhealthy, and dangerous fevers are
prevalent. The chief reason for this probably is, that the land lies
deep, and the rivers are choked up with sand at their mouths. In the
rainy season the water pours unchecked over the plains, forming swamps
and morasses, the exhalations from which, in the hot months from
November till the end of April, produce a malignant miasma. Even the
natives who live in the healthy districts, in the interior of the
island, are just as liable to its effects as the Europeans themselves,
when they come to the unhealthy lowlands in the hot season. Of the
Europeans, I saw a few in Tamatavé who were attacked every summer by the
fever, though they had lived there for three or four years.
Our journey to-day did not exceed eight or nine miles; betimes in the
afternoon we halted at the village of Andororanto to wait for our
baggage, which had been taken overland by another route.
May 22. This morning we traveled three hours by water on the River Fark,
which falls into the sea not far from the village where we had passed
the night. This river is very broad, but has few deep parts. Its banks
afford a greater variety of scenery than the rivers we had hitherto
seen. The uniform flats begin now to alternate with little clusters of
hills, and in the far background a low ridge becomes visible.
Coming to a great bend in the river, we disembarked. The boats remained
behind, and our journey by land began in earnest. This day we
accomplished eight miles more inland toward the east. The road was
tolerably good, except in the neighborhood of a few wretched villages
which we passed.
As far as I have yet seen of this country, it is exceedingly fertile,
except a few sandy tracts. Capital pasture-grass grows every where
luxuriantly. The plains at the higher level are said to be excellently
calculated for sugar plantations, and the low-lying lands for
rice-fields, and yet all was lying fallow. The population is so scanty
that we hardly passed a tiny village in every three or four miles. This
is certainly inevitable in a country whose government seems determined
to lay waste and depopulate the land. In Madagascar scarcely any one is
a landed proprietor except the queen and the high nobility. The peasant
may cultivate the land and sow seed where he finds a tract unoccupied,
without asking permission of any body; but this gives him no proprietary
right, and after he has cultivated the land the owner may take it away
from him. This circumstance, added to the natural indolence inherent in
all savage tribes, readily accounts for the fact that the peasant only
cultivates just as much land as he finds necessary to grow enough for
himself.
The taxes are not oppressive. The peasant has to deliver about a hundred
weight of rice to the government annually; but compulsory service and
other exactions are very burdensome, for they prevent the peasant from
attending properly to his work.
Rice is the plant principally cultivated in Madagascar. The crop is sown
twice a year, and the government prescribes a month each time to be
devoted to the work. With an active people this would be enough time to
get the harvest gathered, and the new crop put into the ground; but,
unfortunately, the natives of Madagascar are very far from being an
active race, and so it often happens that the month has passed away
before the work is finished. After the month is over, the government
requires the men for all kinds of services, of more or less importance,
just as the queen or the officers appointed by her majesty may please to
order. Those are worst off who live on roads leading from the harbors to
the capital, for they have to do so much compulsory service as bearers
that they have scarcely any time left for agriculture. At one time many
left their huts and fields, and fled into the interior of the country to
escape this hardship, so that the villages began to be deserted. To
check this, the queen condemned every fugitive to death; but, on the
other hand, she relieved the inhabitants of villages on the roads from
military service, the most hateful of all obligations to the people. A
few little villages were also stocked with royal slaves, who had no
other duty assigned to them but to act as carriers. If the people had
only to transport the royal luggage and goods, their service would not
be a heavy one; but every nobleman, every officer, can procure an order
for similar service, and even compel the people to work without showing
any authority at all. They can not complain, for a peasant would never
gain a cause against a nobleman or an officer, and so they pass the
greater part of the year working on the roads. In the districts where
there are no goods and chattels to be carried, other work is found for
them; and if there happens to be nothing to do, they are summoned in a
body, not only the men, but the women, children, and all, to attend a
_kabar_ at some place or other. Kabar is the name given to public
judicial sessions, councils, audiences, and assemblies of the people,
where new laws and royal orders are promulgated, and much similar
business enacted.
The kabars are sometimes held in distant places, so that the poor people
have to travel some days to get to them. Nor are the laws at once read
out to them; this part of the business is often postponed from day to
day, so that they are sometimes kept away from their homes for weeks. On
such occasions many die of hunger and misery, from having taken an
insufficient supply of rice; money they have none, and must therefore
seek to sustain life as best they may with roots and herbs. Their
destruction seems to be the object of the queen; for she hates all the
people who are not of her own race, and her greatest desire would seem
to be to annihilate them all at one blow.
So far as the cultivation of the land is concerned, there are people
enough in Bourbon and the Mauritius who would be glad enough to lay out
large plantations. A few even have tried it, clearing great tracts of
land and planting sugar-canes. But they met with the greatest
difficulties; for, as the land every where belonged to the queen, or to
one or other of the nobles, the new-comers were obliged to propitiate
the owners by presents of money to obtain permission to carry on their
operations. Besides this, the government demanded ten per cent. on
their profits, and, in spite of all the heavy sacrifices, they were not
much better off than the natives; for the peculiar judicial institutions
of Madagascar allowed the owner to break off the contract at any moment,
and drive away the planter.
Some preferred to make a treaty with the queen herself, her majesty
therein engaging to provide the ground, the laborers, wood, iron, in a
word, every thing necessary to a plantation; the planter, on his part,
undertaking to set the work in motion, and to find provisions for the
hands; while the produce was to be divided equally between the
contracting parties. The queen entered into several contracts of this
kind, but never kept to them. In King Radama’s time, the land, they told
me, had been more populous; under the rule of the present queen, not
only have innumerable towns sunk down to a few scattered huts, but
others have altogether vanished. Spots were often pointed out to us
where fine villages had once stood.
We passed the night at Manambotre. At a little distance from this
village we passed a place where great blocks of rock lay scattered here
and there. Their appearance in this place astonished me not a little, as
the soil consisted every where of vegetable earth on which not the
smallest stone was to be found. Mr. Lambert had two oxen killed this
evening for the benefit of our bearers. They were dragged out in front
of our hut by ropes passed round their horns; then several men armed
with knives crept up from behind, and cut the sinews of the poor
creatures hind legs, so that they sank down powerless, and could be
dispatched without danger. As I have already remarked, they are not
flayed, but the skin is roasted with the meat; nay, the natives even
prefer it to the flesh, because the greater portion of fat adheres to
it.
The oxen are fine large animals, and very tame; they are of the buffalo
kind.
May 23. To-day the bad roads began. I did not feel afraid of them, for,
in many of my journeyings--for instance, in Iceland, when I ascended the
Hecla; also in Kurdistan, in Sumatra, and other countries--I have seen
far worse; but my companions seemed horrified at the sight. They were
certainly far from good, I must allow. The land is here more than
wave-like in form: it consists of a succession of lofty hills
sufficiently steep, and so closely packed together that barely a few
hundred yards of level land are left between. Instead of winding along
by the foot of these hills, the roads go straight up and down each of
them. The soil, too, a rich loam, becomes as smooth and slippery as ice,
from the rain, and there are, moreover, innumerable holes made by the
cattle, thousands of oxen being driven this way from the interior.
Our bearers won my unfeigned admiration; indeed, surprising strength and
skill are required to carry heavy loads along such roads. The bearers,
whose duty it was to transport my little meagre figure, were the most
lucky. I felt almost inclined to be angry with them, for they trotted
with me, up hill and down dale, as if I had been no weight at all, and
that was not quite the case. And when the ground happened to be somewhat
level, they almost ran, although I tried in vain to induce them, by all
kinds of deprecating signs, to moderate their ardor; for the long, quick
strides they made were as disagreeable as the trot of a heavy horse. The
hills were covered with rich grass; some also were clothed with plants.
Among the latter there was much bamboo, with delicate clusters of leaves
of a light green color, and of a luxuriant freshness I had never seen
elsewhere. Like shade alternating with light in a picture, the bright
bamboo stood near the Kafia palm, with its feathery dark leaves fifteen
feet long. This palm is a very valuable tree to the natives, who plait
their rabanetas with the fibres of its leaves--those coarse mats which I
have mentioned in my account of Tamatavé.
Of the water-palm I saw some splendid specimens. This tree flourishes
here, in the interior of the country, much better than on the sea-coast.
I remember to have read in some works of travels that this palm only
occurs in situations where water is scarce, and that it is called
water-palm, and also traveler’s palm, because a small quantity of water
collects between each leaf and the stem, to the great delectation of the
thirst-tormented wayfarer. The natives here assert, on the contrary,
that this palm only flourishes in a damp soil, and that water is always
to be found in its neighborhood. Unluckily, I had no opportunity of
investigating the subject, so as to judge of the truth of these reports;
but I hope the time will come when botanists will roam at pleasure
through this great island, and settle, not only this, but many other
doubtful questions in geography and natural history.
The sago-palm is another variety that flourishes greatly in Madagascar.
Strangely enough, the natives dislike its pith, although they are in
general any thing but squeamish in their diet, for they devour not only
herbs and roots, but insects and worms likewise.
The time passed very quickly to-day, for from every hill and mountain a
fresh view opened before us more beautiful than the last. But the
population became thinner and thinner; in the whole day’s journey we
only passed by a few very insignificant villages.
This night we stopped at a village called Ambatoarana. The arrival of
Mr. Lambert had been every where announced, and as it was known that he
stood high in favor with the queen, the inhabitants of the village
received him with the greatest demonstrations of respect, and vied with
each other to propitiate the influential man. Here, too, the judge came
at once to call upon us, and in the name of the community presented to
Mr. Lambert a couple of oxen, besides a great quantity of rice and
poultry. Mr. Lambert accepted these presents, but gave others of far
greater value in return.