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!