The queen was attired in a wide silk simbre, and wore on her head a large golden crown. Though she sat in the shade, a very ample umbrella of crimson silk—throughout the East a sign of royal dignity—was held over her head. She was of rather dark complexion, strongly and even sturdily
built, and, though seventy-five years of age, remarkably healthy and active. On her right stood her son, Prince Rakoto; and on her left, her adopted son, Prince Ramboasalama. Behind her were gathered nephews, nieces, and other relatives, and the dignitaries and grandees of her kingdom.
The minister who had conducted Madame Pfeiffer and her companion—M. Lambert, a French adventurer, who played a conspicuous part in the affairs of Madagascar—addressed a short speech to the queen; after which the visitors had to bow thrice, and to repeat the words, “Esaratsara tombokoc” (We salute you cordially); to which she replied, “Esaratsara” (We salute you). They then turned to the left to salute King Radama’s tomb, which was close at hand, with three similar bows; afterwards returning to their former position in front of the balcony, and making three more. M. Lambert next held up a gold piece of eighty francs value, and placed it in the hands of the minister who had introduced them. This gift, which is expected from every stranger when first presented, is called “Monosina.” The queen then asked M. Lambert if he wished to put any question to her, or if he needed anything, and also addressed a remark or two to Madame Pfeiffer.
The bowings and greetings were then resumed; obeisance was paid to King Radama’s monument; and the visitors, as they retired, were again cautioned not to put the left foot first over the threshold.
The royal palace is (or was) a very large timber building, consisting of a ground-floor and two stories, surmounted by a singularly high-pitched roof. Each story is surrounded by a broad gallery. The roof is supported on wooden pillars, eighty feet high, and rises forty feet above them, resting in the centre on a pillar not less than a hundred and twenty feet in height. All these columns are fashioned each from a single trunk; and when it is considered, says our authority, that the forests containing trees of sufficient size for this purpose lie fifty or sixty miles from the capital, that the roads are nowhere paved, and in some places are quite impassable, and that all the pillars are dragged to the capital without the help of a beast of burden or any single machine, and are afterwards wrought and set up with the simplest tools, the erection of this palace may justly be called a gigantic undertaking, and the palace itself ranked among the wonders of the world.
The government of Madagascar has always been Draconian in its severity, and the penalty exacted
for almost every offence is blood. Some of the unfortunates are burned; others are hurled over a high rock; others buried alive; others scalded to death with boiling water; others killed with the spear; others sewn up alive in mats, and left to perish of hunger and corruption; and others beheaded. Recourse is not unfrequently had to poison, which is used as a kind of ordeal or test. This is applicable to all classes; and as any one may accuse another, on depositing a certain sum of money,—and as, moreover, no accused person is allowed to defend himself,—the ordeal does not fall into disrepute for want of use. If the accused endures it without perishing, a third part of the deposit is awarded to him, a third part goes to the court, and the remainder is returned to the accuser. But if the accused die, his guilt is considered to have been established, and the accuser receives back the whole of his money.
The poisoning process takes place as follows:—
The material employed is obtained from the kernel of a fruit as large as a peach, called the Tanghinia venenifera. The lampi-tanghini, or person who administers the poison, announces to the accused the day on which the perilous dose is
to be swallowed. For eight-and-forty hours before the prescribed time he is allowed to eat very little, and for the last twenty-four hours nothing at all. His friends accompany him to the poisoner’s house. There he undresses, and takes oath that he has had no recourse to magic. The lampi-tanghini then scrapes away as much powder from the kernel with a knife as he judges necessary for the trial. Before administering the dose, he asks the accused if he confesses his crime; which the accused never does, because under any circumstances he would have to swallow the poison. The said poison is spread upon three little pieces of skin, each about an inch in size, cut from the back of a plump fowl. These he rolls together, and administers to the supposed culprit.