Chapter 26 of 29 · 5217 words · ~26 min read

CHAPTER XIII

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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!

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