CHAPTER XIII.

Introduction at Court.--The Monosina.--The Royal Palace.--The

Hovas.--Scenes of Horror under the Queen’s Rule.--Executions.--The

Tanguin.--Persecution of the Christians.--One of the Queen’s

Journeys.--Her Hatred of Europeans.--Bull-fights.--Taurine

Mausoleum.

Our introduction at court took place on the 2d of June.

Toward four o’clock in the afternoon our bearers carried us to the

palace. Over the door is fixed a great gilt eagle with extended wings.

According to the rule laid down here by etiquette, we stepped over the

threshold first with the right foot, and observed the same ceremony on

coming to a second gate leading to a great court-yard in front of the

palace. Here we saw the queen sitting on a balcony on the first story,

and were directed to stand in a row in the court-yard opposite to her.

Under the balcony stood some soldiers, who went through sundry

evolutions, concluding with a very comic point of drill, which consisted

in suddenly poking up the right foot as if it had been stung by a

tarantula.

The queen was wrapped, according to the custom of the country, in a wide

silk simbu, and wore on her head a big golden crown. Though she sat in

the shade, a very large umbrella of crimson silk was held up over her

head; this being, it appears, a point of regal state.

The queen is of rather dark complexion, strong and sturdily built, and,

though already seventy-five years of age, she is, to the misfortune of

her poor country, still hale and of active mind. At one time she is said

to have been a great drunkard, but she has given up that fatal

propensity some years ago.

To the right of the queen stood her son, Prince Rakoto, and on the left

her adopted son, Prince Ramboasalama; behind her sat and stood sundry

nephews and nieces, and other relatives, male and female, and several

grandees of the empire.

The minister who had conducted us to the palace made a short speech to

the queen, after which we had to bow three times, and to repeat the

words “Esaratsara tombokoe,” equivalent to “We salute you cordially;” to

which she replied, “Esaratsara,” which means “Well--good!” Then we

turned to the left to salute the tomb of King Radama, lying a few paces

on one side, with three similar bows, whereupon we returned to our

former place in front of the balcony and made three more. Mr. Lambert,

on this occasion, held up a gold piece of fifty francs’ value, and put

it in the hands of the minister who accompanied us. This gift, which

every stranger has to offer when he is presented for the first time at

court, is called “Monosina.” It is not necessary that it should consist

of a fifty-franc piece; the queen contents herself with a Spanish dollar

or a five-franc piece. Mr. Lambert had, however, already given fifty

francs on the occasion of the “sambas-sambas.”

After the delivery of the gold piece, the queen asked Mr. Lambert if he

wished to put any question to her, or if he stood in need of any thing;

to which he answered “No.” She was also condescending enough to turn to

me, and ask if I was well, and if I had escaped the fever.[B] After I

had answered this question, we staid a few minutes longer looking at

each other, when the bowings and greetings began anew. We had to take

leave of Radama’s monument, and on retiring were again reminded not on

any account to put the left foot first over the threshold.

Such is the way in which the proud Queen of Madagascar grants audiences

to strangers. She considers herself far too high and exalted to let them

come near her at the first interview. Those who have the great good

fortune to win her especial favor may afterward be introduced into the

palace itself; but this is never achieved at a first audience.

The royal palace is a very large wooden building, consisting of a ground

floor and two stories, surmounted by a peculiarly high roof. The stories

are surrounded by broad galleries. Around the building are pillars also

of wood, eighty feet high, supporting the roof, which rises to a height

of forty feet above them, resting in the centre on a pillar no less than

a hundred and twenty feet high. All these columns, the one in the centre

not excepted, consist of a single trunk; and when it is considered that

the woods which contain trees of a sufficient size to furnish these

columns are fifty or sixty English miles from the capital, that the

roads are nowhere paved, and in some places quite impassable, and that

all the pillars are dragged hither without the help of a single beast of

burden, or any kind of machine, and are afterward prepared and set up by

means of the simplest tools, the building of this palace may with truth

be called a gigantic undertaking, and the place itself be ranked among

the wonders of the world. In bringing home the chief pillar alone, five

thousand persons were employed, and twelve days were occupied in its

erection.

All these labors were performed by the people as compulsory service, for

which they received neither wages nor food. I was told that during the

progress of the work fifteen thousand people fell victims to the hard

toil and the want of proper nourishment. But the queen is very little

disturbed by such a circumstance; half the population might perish, if

only her high behests are fulfilled.

In front of the principal building a handsome spacious court-yard has

been left; around this space stand several pretty houses, all of wood.

The chief building is, in fact, uninhabited, and contains only great

halls of state and banqueting-rooms; the dwelling-rooms and

sleeping-rooms of the queen are in one of the side buildings,

communicating by a gallery with the palace.

On the left, the “silver palace” adjoins the larger one. It takes its

name from the fact that all the Vandyked ends with which the roof is

decorated, and the window and door frames, are hung with innumerable

little silver bells. This palace is the residence of Prince Rakoto, who,

however, makes very little use of it, generally living at his house in

the city.

Beside the silver palace stands the monument of King Radama, a tiny

wooden house without windows; to this fact, however, and to the farther

circumstance of its being built upon a pedestal, it owes its sole

resemblance to a monument.

The singular custom prevails in Madagascar, that when a king dies, all

his treasures in gold and silver ware and other valuables are laid with

him in the grave. In case of need, the heir can dig up the treasure,

and, so far as I could ascertain, this had been done in every instance.

Radama’s treasure is only estimated at 50,000 piastres, but his father’s

was valued at a million. The treasure or property of the present

reigning queen is computed, according to the account I received, at

between 500,000 and 600,000 dollars, and her yearly income at 30,000 to

40,000 dollars. The latter sum she is able to add annually, almost

without deduction, to her fund, for she incurs no expense in her

government or for her personal wants. As to the first, the whole burden

falls upon the people, who have to work without pay; and with respect to

the latter, the queen is the owner of the land, and possesses a great

number of slaves, who have to provide every necessary for her household.

Even the very clothes she wears are mostly made of materials produced

in the country, and woven and prepared by male and female slaves.

Among the natives at Tananariva there are said to be some who have

property to the amount of several hundred thousand dollars; but they

make a secret of their wealth, for if the queen should obtain

intelligence of the whereabouts of such a treasure, the wish to seize it

and carry it off might very probably enter her royal mind.

The whole wealth of the island in ready money is estimated at one

million dollars at most.

I do not grudge the queen the treasure she has accumulated; but it would

be a fortunate thing for the population of the island if it were to be

buried very soon, in company--of course--with its gracious possessor.

She is certainly one of the proudest and most cruel women on the face of

the earth, and her whole history is a record of bloodshed and deeds of

horror. At a moderate computation, it is reckoned that from twenty to

thirty thousand people perish annually in Madagascar, some through the

continual executions and poisonings, others through grievous labor

purposely inflicted, and from warfare. If this woman’s rule lasts much

longer, the beautiful island will be quite depopulated; the population

is said to have already shrunk to half the number that it comprised in

King Radama’s time, and a vast number of villages have disappeared from

the face of the land.

Executions and massacres are often conducted in wholesale fashion, and

fall chiefly upon the Seklaves, whom the queen seems to look upon with

peculiar hatred; but the Malagaseys and the other nations are not much

less distasteful to her; and the only tribe that finds any favor at all

in her eyes is, as I have already said, the Hovas, from whom she herself

is descended.

These Hovas were once the most scorned and hated of all the races in

Madagascar; they were regarded as the Pariahs are regarded in India.

Under King Radama, however, and especially under the present queen, this

race has distinguished itself, and attained the first place by dint of

intelligence, bravery, and ambition. But, unhappily, the race has not

been improved by prosperity, and the good qualities of the Hovas are

more than overbalanced by their evil propensities: Mr. Laborde even

declares that the Hova embodies in himself the vices of all the tribes

in the island. Mendacity, cunning, and hypocrisy are not only habitual,

but cherished vices with him, and he tries to initiate his offspring

therein at the earliest possible age. The Hovas dwell among themselves

in a continual state of suspicion, and friendship is with them an

impossibility. Their cunning and slyness are said to be incredible: the

most practiced diplomatists of Europe would be no match for them in

these qualities.

Of Malay origin, the Hovas are undoubtedly less ugly than the other

races in Madagascar. Their features have less of the negro type, and are

even better shaped than those of the Malays in Java and the Indian

Archipelago, whose superiors they are also in stature and bodily

strength. Their complexion varies through every shade from olive-yellow

to dark reddish-brown. Some are very light; but, on the other hand, I

noticed many, especially among the soldiers, whose color approximated so

much to the red tint that I should have taken them for more genuine

“red-skins” than even the North American Indians, to whom that name is

applied from the ruddy tinge in their skin. Their eyes and hair are

black; they wear the hair long, and this is of a frizzly woolly texture.

Even the Hovas, the favorites of the queen, are ruled with a ruthless

iron hand; and though they may not be put to death by hundreds and

thousands like the other nations, they are still punished with death for

very trifling offenses.

Blood--and always blood--is the maxim of Queen Ranavola, and every day

seems lost to this wicked woman on which she can not sign at least half

a dozen death-warrants.

That my readers may become better acquainted with this queen, whose

cause the English missionary society, in its philanthropy, has so warmly

espoused, whose defense their agent has dared to undertake, and whom he

has sought to maintain on the throne, I will cite a few of the deeds of

horror which have been perpetrated on the unhappy land at her command,

and of which the first alone would be sufficient to brand with infamy

the name of Ranavola forever.

In the year 1831, when the army was still well trained, and the

discipline introduced by King Radama had not yet been quite forgotten,

the queen conquered a great portion of the eastern part of the coast,

whose chief population consisted of Seklaves. She ordered all the men of

the conquered country to come to an appointed place to do homage to her.

When the men, twenty-five thousand in number, were assembled, they were

commanded to lay down their arms, and they were then led out into a

large open space quite surrounded by soldiers. Here they were told to

kneel down in token of submission; but scarcely had they done this, when

the soldiers fell upon the unhappy wretches, and massacred them every

one. Their wives and children were afterward sold as slaves.

Such is the lot of the conquered nations; but the queen’s own subjects

are not much better off.

In the year 1837, for instance, the queen received a report from her

ministers to the effect that there were many magicians, thieves,

violators of graves, and other evil-doers among the people. The queen

immediately convened a kabar, or judicial meeting, for seven weeks, and

at the same time caused it to be proclaimed to the people that all

evil-doers who delivered themselves up should have their lives granted

to them, but that those who failed so to do should suffer the punishment

of death. A body of nearly sixteen hundred men gave themselves up

accordingly. About fifteen hundred had voluntarily surrendered

themselves to justice, and ninety-six had been denounced. Of these

ninety-six, fourteen were burnt; and of the remaining eighty-two, some

were hurled over a high rock, in the district of Tananariva, which has

been the death-place of thousands; others were put into pits, and

scalded to death with boiling water; others, again, were executed with

the spear, or poisoned; a few were beheaded, and several had their limbs

separately hacked off. The most painful death of all, perhaps, was

inflicted on a portion of the victims, who were sewn up in mats in such

a way that the head only protruded, and who were then left alive to rot.

Those who had been their own accusers were spared from execution, in

accordance with the royal promise; but their fate was far worse than

that of the men condemned to death. The queen declared that it would be

dangerous to set such a number of criminals at liberty, and that they

must, at any rate, be made harmless. So she had heavy irons fastened

round their necks and wrists, and the unhappy victims were fastened

together in gangs of four and five by very thick iron bars, about

eighteen inches long. After this operation had been performed on them,

they were set free--that is to say, they were at liberty to go where

they would, only that guards were appointed in all directions, whose

office it was to give strict heed that none of the irons were filed off.

If one of a group died, it was necessary to cut off his head to

extricate the corpse from the iron neck-ring, and the dead man’s fetters

were left to weigh upon the survivors, so that at last they could hardly

drag themselves from place to place, and perished miserably at last

under the heavy weight.

In the year 1855 certain people in the province of Vonizonga

unfortunately took it into their heads to assert that they had

discovered a means of catching a thief by invisible agency; that when he

stretched out his hand with felonious intent, they could charm his arm

so as to prevent him from drawing it back or moving from the spot. When

the queen heard of this, she commanded that the people in question

should be severely punished, for she fancied she herself might one day

come into that district, and be killed by similar witchcraft. Two

hundred persons were taken prisoners, and condemned to the _tanguin_, of

whom a hundred and eighty perished.

The tanguin, or poisoning test, is often applied to persons of all

grades--to the high nobles as well as the slaves; for the mere

accusation of any crime is sufficient to bring it upon the victim. Any

man may start up as accuser. He need not bring forward any proofs, for

the only condition he has to fulfill is to deposit a sum of twenty-eight

and a half dollars. The accused persons are not allowed to make any

defense, for they must submit to the poisoning ordeal under all

circumstances. When any one gets through without perishing, a third part

of the deposited money is given to him, a second third belongs to the

queen, and the remainder is given back to the accuser. If the accused

dies, the accuser receives all his money back, for then the accusation

is looked upon as well founded.

The poisoning process in managed in the following manner: The poison

employed is taken from the kernel of a fruit as large as a peach,

growing upon trees called _Tanguinea Veneniflora_. The lampi-tanguini,

or person who administers the poison, announces to the accused the day

on which he is to take it. For forty-eight hours before the appointed

time he is allowed to eat very little, and for the last twenty-four

hours before the trial nothing at all. His friends accompany him to the

poisoner’s house; here he has to undress himself, and make oath that he

has not had recourse to any kind of magic. The lampi-tanguini then

scrapes away as much powder from the kernel with a knife as he judges

necessary for the trial. Before administering the dose to the accused,

he asks him if he confesses his crime; but the culprit never does this,

as he would have to take the poison notwithstanding. The lampi-tanguini

spreads the poison on three little pieces of skin, about an inch in

size, cut from the back of a fat fowl; these he rolls together, and bids

the accused swallow them.

In former days, almost every one who was subjected to this ordeal died

in great agony; but for the last ten years every one who has not been

condemned by the queen herself to the tanguin is permitted to make use

of the following antidote. As soon as he has taken the poison, his

friends make him drink rice-water in such quantities that his whole body

sometimes swells visibly, and quick and violent vomiting is generally

brought on. If the poisoned man is fortunate enough to get rid not only

of the poison, but of the three little skins (which latter must be

returned uninjured), he is declared innocent, and his relations carry

him home in triumph with songs and rejoicings. But if one of the pieces

of skin should fail to reappear, or if it be at all injured, his life is

forfeited, and he is executed with the spear or by some other means.

One of the nobles who frequently visited our house had been condemned

several years ago to take the tanguin. Happily for him, he threw up the

poison and the three pieces of skin in perfect condition. His brother

ran in great haste to the wife of the accused to announce this joyful

event to her, and the poor woman was so moved by it that she sank

fainting to the ground. I was astonished at hearing of such a display of

feeling from one of the women of Madagascar, and could not at first

believe the account true. I heard, however, that if the husband had

died, she would have been called a witch, and probably condemned to the

tanguin likewise, so that the violent emotion was probably caused more

by joy at her own deliverance than the good fortune of her husband.

During my stay in Tananariva a woman suddenly lost several of her

children by death. The mother was accused of causing the fate of the

poor little ones by magic arts, and was condemned to the tanguin. The

poor creature threw up the poison and two of the skins, but as the third

did not make its appearance, she was killed without mercy.

As I have already said, the queen, immediately on her accession, had

strictly forbidden the profession of the Christian faith, which had been

introduced under King Radama. Notwithstanding this, there are said to be

a considerable number of Christians still in the island, who, of course,

keep their belief as secret as possible. In spite of all their caution,

however, about six years ago all the members of a little congregation

were denounced and captured. One of their number was burnt by the

queen’s orders. This punishment is generally inflicted only on nobles,

officers, and soldiers; fourteen were thrown over the rock, and many

others beaten to death. Of the remainder, the nobles were deprived of

their titles and honors, and the commoners sold as slaves. All the

Bibles discovered were publicly burnt in the great market-place.

The punishment of being sold as a slave is one of the lightest to which

the queen condemns her subjects. The following facts will show on what

slight grounds such sales are effected.

Once the queen had caused some Spanish dollars to be melted down for

silver dishes. When these dishes were brought to her, she found fault

with the workmanship, summoned the goldsmiths and silversmiths to the

palace, and exhorted them to furnish better work. The good people did

their very best, and, to their own misfortune, turned out better dishes

than they had at first produced. The queen was satisfied, praised the

workmen, and, as a reward for their exertions, had the whole guild sold

as slaves, on the ground that they had not at first delivered such good

dishes as they had since proved themselves able to make.

At another time many persons lost their freedom in consequence of a

death in the royal family. When a nobleman of any caste dies, the duty

of wrapping him in the dead-cloth and placing him in the grave devolves

upon the fourth caste. The deceased in this case had fallen into

disgrace, and been banished from the capital, and mourning was not put

on for him at court; under these circumstances, the nobles of the fourth

class feared to offend the queen by paying the last honors to the dead

man, and left this duty to men from among the people. As soon as this

came to the queen’s ears, she laid a fine of four hundred dollars upon

the whole caste, and had one hundred and twenty-six persons selected

from it and sold as slaves; among these were many women and children.

The entire population of a village sometimes fall into slavery merely

for eating the flesh of a stolen ox. Stealing an ox is a crime punished

with death; but if the stolen beast belonged to the queen, not only is

the thief executed, but all who have partaken of the ox’s flesh are sold

into slavery; and as no one takes the trouble to ascertain who has been

implicated and who not, the punishment falls upon the whole village in

which the ox was sold and slaughtered. None are spared but unweaned

children, who are graciously supposed not to have eaten any of the meat.

To have attained to wealth and independence is too great a crime in a

subject not to draw down all kinds of persecution on the luckless

delinquent. If the queen gets to know that any village is rich in

cattle, rice, and other produce--money, of course, is out of the

question among the villagers--she imposes a task upon the people which

they can not execute; for instance, she requires them to deposit a

certain amount of wood, or a certain number of stones, at a given place

on an appointed day. The quantity of materials to be delivered is made

so large, and the time allowed for their delivery so short, that, even

with the greatest exertion, and every anxiety to fulfill the conditions,

the completion becomes impossible. The people are then condemned to pay

a fine of some hundreds of dollars; and as they have no money, they are

obliged to sell their cattle, their rice, their slaves, and not

unfrequently themselves.

Separate wealthy persons are plundered in the following way: An

Ysitralenga--that is to say, a man who does not tell lies--proceeds to

the house of the selected victim, accompanied by some soldiers; here,

sticking a lance in the ground, he accuses the head of the family of

some offense against the government--of having spoken disrespectfully of

the queen, or committed some other crime, and takes him prisoner, and

leads him before the judge. If the accused loses the suit, his whole

property is confiscated; if he wins it, half his wealth will have gone

in bribes and other expenses; for, although Madagascar is a half savage

country, the judges understand their business just as well as in the

most civilized states in Europe.

But executions, poisonings, slavery, plunderings, and other punishments

do not exhaust the people’s catalogue of woes. In devising plans of

malignity and cruelty, Queen Ranavola’s penetration is wonderful; and

she has invented farther means for ruining the unhappy population, and

plunging it still deeper into misery. One device for carrying out this

end, often adopted by the queen, is a royal journey. Thus, in the year

1845, Queen Ranavola made a progress to the province of Mancrinerina,

ostensibly to enjoy the sport of buffalo-hunting. On this journey she

was accompanied by more than 50,000 persons. She had invited all the

officers, all the nobles, far and near, around Tananariva; and that the

procession should appear as splendid as possible, every one had to

bring with him all his servants and slaves. Of soldiers alone, 10,000

marched with them, and almost as many bearers, and 12,000 men always

kept a day’s journey in advance, to make the roads broader and repair

them. Nor were the inhabitants of the villages spared through which the

queen passed. A certain number, at least, had to follow the train with

their wives and children. Many of the people were sent forward, like the

road-menders, to prepare the night’s lodging for the queen; no trifling

task, as the houses or tents prepared for the royal family had to be

surrounded by a high rampart of earth, lest her gracious majesty should

be attacked by enemies during the night, and torn forcibly away from her

beloved people.

Inasmuch as this philanthropic potentate is accustomed, on a journey of

this kind, only to make provision for her own support, and gives her

companions nothing but the permission to live on the stores they have

brought for themselves (provided, of course, they have been able to

procure any), famine very soon makes its appearance among the mass of

soldiers, people, and slaves. This was the case in the journey of which

I speak; and in the four months of its duration, nearly 10,000 people,

and among them a great proportion of women and children, are said to

have perished. Even the majority of the nobles had to suffer the

greatest privations; for, wherever a little rice was left, it was sold

at such a high price that only the richest and noblest were able to

purchase it.

In the first years of Queen Ranavola’s rule, before she found herself

seated securely enough on the throne to gratify her bloodthirsty

propensities on her own subjects, her hatred was chiefly directed toward

the descendants of King Radama and toward the Europeans. Regarding the

latter, she frequently held councils with her ministers and other

grandees concerning the measures to be taken to keep the detested race

away from her territories. Mr. Laborde informed me that on these

occasions the most absurd and extravagant propositions were brought

forward. Thus, for instance, one of the wise councilors urged the

expediency of building a very high, strong wall in the sea round about

Madagascar, so that no ship should be able to approach any of the

harbors. A second wiseacre proposed to the queen to have four gigantic

pairs of shears manufactured, and fixed on the roads leading from the

various harbors to the capital. Whenever a European came along, the

shears were to be clapped to the moment he stepped between them, and

thus the daring intruder would be cut in two. A third councilor, as wise

as his companions, advised the queen to have a machine prepared with a

great iron plate, against which the cannon balls fired from hostile

ships would rebound, and sink the aggressive vessels by being hurled

back upon them.

All these suggestions were received by her majesty with much

approbation, and formed matter for deliberation in the exalted council

for days and weeks; but, unfortunately, none of them were found

practicable.

I must mention another touching trait, which the English missionary

society will not fail to interpret greatly to the advantage of Queen

Ranavola, should it not have done so already.

The queen is particularly fond of witnessing fights between bulls, and

this noble sport is frequently carried on in the fine large court-yard

in front of the palace. Among the horned combatants, some are her

favorites: she asks after their health every day, and is as anxious

about them as a European lady might be about her lapdogs; and, to carry

out the simile, she often takes more interest in their well-being than

in the comforts of her servants and friends.

In one of these contests, one of her favorite bulls--in fact, the chief

of them--was slain: the poor queen was inconsolable at her loss. Until

now, no one had ever seen her weep. But then, she had never before met

with so heavy a misfortune. She had certainly lost her parents, her

husband, a few children, and some brothers and sisters; but what were

all these in comparison to the favorite bull? She wept much and

bitterly, and it was long before she would take comfort. The animal was

buried with all the honors accorded to a grandee of the state. It was

wrapped in a number of simbus, and covered with a great white cloth, and

the marshals had to lay it in the grave. The marshals showed on this

occasion that the race of courtiers flourishes in Madagascar; they were

so proud of the distinction that they boast of it to the present day.

Two great stones are placed upon the grave, in memory of the dear

departed; and the queen is said to think of him still with gentle

sorrow.

The bull’s monument is in the inner town. I saw it myself, and thought,

also with sorrow, not of the bull, but of the unhappy people languishing

under the cruel oppression of this barbarous queen; and with sorrow,

too, I thought of the equally unhappy sectarian spirit that can induce

any section of a Christian community to become the champions of such a

woman!

The last travels of Ida Pfeiffer: inclusive of a visit to Madagascar, with a biographical memoir of the author · 第 13 / 16 章