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| Introduction | Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Appendix |
Province of Ankay — The Plains of Moromanga — Mangoro River — Ferry at Andakana — Ifody — Valley of the Vahala — Ambodinangavo — The Pass over Mount Angavo — Mandraka River — Ankera Madinika — Granite Boulders — Ambatomanga — Tomb of Indriamatoaravalo — Fahitra — Yedien — Distant View of Antananarivo — Andriasora — Entrance into the Capital — Fat Bullock presented by the King.
August 5th.—After the mountains, ravines, and forests we had traversed, we found an agreeable novelty in the easy walking across the flats of Ankay, or Antankay. The whole of this plain has the appearance of having been under water, and during the rainy season the major portion of it must be flooded. Even during the dry season there are numerous streams ; and the bogs and marshes are full of wild duck and snipe. These marshes are extensively covered with zoro-zoro, a tall papyrus, through which it would not be easy to pursue a crocodile, even if one had the chance; but at this time of the year they hide themselves in the mud, and are seldom seen, though they are very numerous about here. The natives, from superstitious feelings, never kill them. (Appendix B.)
After about fifteen miles across the plain we came to the banks of the River Mangoro, which flows first south, draining the plains of Moromanga, and then east through Anteva. It is the second largest river in the island, and in time ought to become a highway for merchandise. At present, on account of its numerous cataracts and rapids it is impracticable. It is from this part of the country that the Bezanozano Marmites come. They are not tall, but strong, and are by far the best coolies in the island. From constantly carrying burdens on their shoulders regular humps are formed, which act as pads for the protection of the shoulder-blade, an ugly but most serviceable provision of nature.
We crossed the Mangoro River in some very cranky canoes, and halted for luncheon on the top of the opposite bank. Our naturalist busied himself between each mouthful in skinning the lemurs we had shot the day before. Now began a stiff climb up the hill called Ifody. For a wonder the track this time did not lie over the highest part of the hill as it always seemed to do in the forest. The tops and sides of Ifody are clothed with woods, and the finest ebony in the island comes from here, as well as a species of mahogany called mango-wood, with a beautiful grain.
Crossing the hill we again descended to Ambodinofody, a small military post, where we did not stop, but pushed on up the beautiful valley of the Vahala, which lies between the mountains of Angavo and the Ifody range. This valley has the most happy, fertile, and prosperous appearance. Fields of rice were being trodden in by bullocks. Gardens with manioc, water-melons, sugar-cane, maize, bananas, pine-apples, sweet potatoes, mulberries, &c., spread out in all directions. The valley was dotted here and there by farm-houses and villages, the markets of which seem well supplied with every necessary article.
The little river Vahala, which flows to the north, and skirting round Ifody, falls into the Mangoro, waters this valley, and irrigates the rice-fields without trouble to the husbandmen.
The people seemed happy and industrious, well-to-do, and neater and cleaner than, any we had yet come in contact with.
At the extremity of the valley, which terminates in a fine amphitheatre of hills, stands Mandrahoody, or Am-bodinangavo; the former name means “ the last impediment home.” The sick or wounded Hova, when returning from some campaign against the turbulent Bezanozano, or the yet unsubdued Betanimena, on being carried to this place, would look up and say, “ If I can only surmount this last hill, I shall be in my own country—If I have strength to climb this mountain, I shall live to enjoy my highland home”—hence the name Mandrahoody.
This was the first village we stopped at that had any semblance of defensive works. We had passed, indeed, one village and market during the day which was surrounded by a high, stout, clay wall, bound here and there with sticks, but the wall had fallen to decay and now was valueless.
Mandrahoody, however, although a small hamlet of not more than a dozen houses, is cut off from the side of the hill on which it is built by a ditch varying from twelve to twenty feet in depth. This moat is broad enough to enable four men to walk abreast at the bottom, and is wider still above. The approach to the village is through this ditch. The sides are covered with a species of melon, and mulberries, and shrubs of Buddlea Madagascarensis. The houses here were built in the tjjyje Hova fashion, with steep, high-pitched roofs, the gable ends produced crossways at the top so as to appear like long straight horns. These project beyond the roof of thatch, in length proportionate to the rank of the owners of the house. Rudely carved birds are often seen at the extremity of the horns. The roofs are thatched with the herana, a rush that grows in abundance. There is a large stone as a step before the door and another downwards inside the door-sill, but the floor itself is on the same level as the ground outside. The height of the roof from the top of the wall to the ridge is often double the height of the wall from the ground, so that if the walls are twelve feet high the ridge of the roof will be perhaps twenty-four feet above that. There was a loft or upper apartment in the house we occupied with a regular staircase up to it, and a window. A door to the west and a window below were general. The best houses had partitions and bedsteads, and one had a table and some rough chairs. From this place we despatched a messenger to the capital to announce our arrival so far to Rahaniraka, the King’s Minister for Foreign Affairs.
August 6th.—We had now a steep climb up the pass of Angavo on foot to a height of at least 1500 feet above the valley of the Yahala. On reaching the summit of the pass, we found ourselves again in the woods, and, thence descending into a precipitous valley, we crossed the Mandraka river, which flows into the Ikiopa, which runs into the Mozambique Channel. We had thus passed the great watershed which runs north and south. Ascending for the last time we left the woods and came into open country, undulating with bare downs, and were now 5000 feet above the sea, and in the country of the Hovas
The first Hova village we arrived at was
The village was so filthy that we did not stop to luncheon till we got out again, and found a resting-place near a small stream. I noticed several women about here with small spindles stuck in their hair, perhaps a sign of their being good housewives.
From Ankera Madinika to the capital the country is an assemblage of bare and barren downs, with hardly a tree or trace of natural vegetation, the granite cropping up on their summits in huge boulders, and rocks of fantastic shapes, but now and then the eye is surprised and refreshed by the rich bright green of the rice-fields in the valleys below. Here, in this natural citadel of rock, reside as in an inaccessible fortress those Normans of Madagascar who have plundered, devastated, and finally subdued the coast, and other tribes immeasurably superior to them in physical force, for like the Norman the Hova is small, spare, and delicate compared to those around him, and certainly not so strong by a great deal. As in other countries, wherever nature has been apparently less kind than usual the energy of man rises superior to her, and every available inch of ground is subject to cultivation of the best description.
We next passed a very neat and picturesque homestead, called Angavokeli. Here was plenty of grass, a double avenue of the aviavy, or wild fig, a small piece of water, rice-fields, and plenty of sheep and cattle feeding. Not far from this we passed the village of Anoserive. Cultivation increased as we drew nearer to the capital. The sides of the hills were diversified by large patches of burnt grass, which is periodically set on fire by the neighbouring farmers. The idea is to promote the growth of fresh young grass for their cattle, by destroying the old dry grass before the rains set in. One conical mountain in front of us was surmounted by three immense granite boulders, and formed a conspicuous landmark for miles.
We now occasionally passed some of the anciently fortified villages on the very summits of the highest hills, protected by trenches and huge moats scarped in the rock.
Some of them had a complete network of moats round them.
The ravines, too, were terraced below and planted with rice, irrigated by water collected in these moats, and drained into the ravine.
These herculean tasks must have taken generations to complete.
There were many memorial stones and cenotaphs by the roadside, for it might almost be called a regularly constructed road now.
Passing Amboikam, we came in sight of Ambatomanga, literally Blue Rock, so called from an enormous mass of blue granite, near which it is built.
Ambatomanga
Ambatomanga is a fine village situated on an eminence.
On the top of the above-mentioned granite rock is a tomb, the resting-place of Indriamatoaravalo, the late chief, to whose family the greater part of the town and the neighbouring land belong.
The whole village is enclosed by double moats from fifteen to twenty feet deep, and the appearance of it is noble in the extreme.
Below the Blue Rock were some men quarrying granite. By burning cow-dung on the part they wish to remove, and dashing cold water along the line thus heated, the stone easily separates in thick layers. When the slab is detached, bands of straw are fastened to it to prevent breakage in the removal, and it is dragged by main force, with or without rollers, to its destination.
The centre of the village is occupied by a large house with verandahs two stories high, in European style, and roofed with wooden bardeaux, like the houses in Mauritius and Bourbon. A lightning conductor fixed at one end of the roof leads down to a small pit in rear of the building. The lower part only was inhabited, the whole building being in a state of decay. It was built by Indriamatoaravalo, the chief whose tomb surmounts the rock, and is still occupied by his heiress Rasoa.
The other houses in the village have steep-pitched thatched roofs, and have each a little terrace and wall of stone and clay round them. Narrow sunken paths lie between them.
August 1th.—Went this morning with the Bishop and Anson to examine the tomb on the top of the rock. Climbing up a narrow path on the south side, we found a plateau artificially levelled on the summit. Here we could look down upon the village beneath us, and a curious sight it was. The multitude of crossed sticks or poles at the ends of the roofs, gives a most quaint effect.
The surface of the rock had been scarped, leaving a semi-elliptical terrace revetted with stone-work, and an entrance under a stone archway, at the south-west corner. The tomb itself consisted of a large stone vault, forty feet long by thirty-six broad, and about ten feet in height, lying north and south with an altar at the south end. The main body of the vault was surmounted by a low stone balustrade. The stone-work below was separated into partitions by stone columns. Above was a small neatly constructed wooden building, which we were not allowed to enter, and here were piously preserved the wearing apparel and effects of the deceased chief.
At this time of the morning the whole country was covered with a sea of white mist, only the tops of the hills and rocks rising like islands in the midst. The sun rose behind us, and threw our shadows, magnified into gigantic figures, on the opposite mists, producing a similar effect to the spectre of the Brocken, greatly to the astonishment of the natives, who had never noticed such a phenomenon before.
Our examination over, we left the rock, and after a hasty breakfast set out on our way. Passing several great pits for fattening cattle (called Fahitra), and crossing the ditches, we left Ambatomanga, and again crossing a bare down, remarkable for a large Druidical memorial stone, we descend to the bridge and village of Yedien; this was the first stone-arched bridge we had seen. It is thrown over a brook some eighteen feet broad. It was a very narrow single span arch, not calculated to resist much force. The fields on the sides of the hills were surrounded with low banks, planted with a slight hedge of red or yellow prickly euphorbia, in bright blossom. Ascending another down, we beheld the welcome sight of the distant capital, Antananarivo, about ten miles off; its palace gleaming white in the morning sun. The Marmites danced with joy on beholding it, taking off their hats, and saluting it, leaping and shouting, pointing to the city, and describing its joys and pleasures. The country here is quite open, hardly a tree to be seen, except a few amongst the houses of the surrounding villages. About half-way from our last station, we arrived at the village of Betoff. Here we halted and mustered our caravan, and were met by an escort of soldiers, several mounted officers, and a band of music, sent to escort us to Andriasona, a small village about two miles from the capital, remarkable only for its tall clay-walled enclosures, hot clay-walled houses, and general burnt-up and baked appearance. Having brought us to this delectable spot, the escort left us and returned to the capital to announce our arrival, and prepare for our entry in state next day.
August 8th.—Last night there was such a beautiful moonlight that we sat till a late hour outside our house listening to the valiha, to which the natives sang and danced before us. In the morning a large escort came down to meet us, with mounted officers in most gorgeous though incongruous costumes. In compliment to them we exchanged our travel-worn shooting-jackets and corduroys for uniforms and gold lace, the good Bishop making quite a sensation in his apron and silver buckles. Our Marmites too, donned their best and whitest lambas, and altogether we were astonished at our own smartness. About eleven o’clock the procession was formed. First the band, much better appointed than the one at Tamatave; then a body of men in double file, dressed in old Guards and E.I.C. uniforms, and home-made white caps, armed with old Tower flint muskets. The whole equipment probably dates from 1817, when Mauritius paid annually to the first Radama in consideration of the suppression of slave-trade and piracy, the following articles:—$2000, 100 barrels of powder, 100 English muskets with accoutrements, 10,000 flints, 400 red jackets, do. trousers, do. shirts, shoes, and caps; 12 swords, G00 pieces of cloth, 2 horses, and a full general’s costume for the king. These troops had no spears like those on the coast. On reaching the crest of the hill over against Antananarivo (the city of a thousand towns,) we were welcomed by a salute of twenty-one pieces of cannon from the heights, and now we got our first full view of the eastern side of the capital.
Antananarivo appears from the east to cover the crest and sides of a long irregular hill; the highest point culminates in the large white three-storied palace, Manjaka Miadara, 120 feet in height, painted white from the top to the bottom ; the voromahery, or sacred eagle of Madagascar, stretching its wings on the top. It shines in brilliant contrast to the small, dingy, and monotonously coloured houses and huts which compose the remainder of the town. The Silver Palace, slightly to the north of it, smaller, and of only two stories high, adds the colour of its red walls to the general effect of the picture. Every house in the city is detached, and they are planted one above another on the hill without order or regularity, built just where their owners found it convenient to scarp, or bank up on the side of the hill, a terrace large enough for his house and yard. Every house, however insignificant, has its accompanying yard, containing its rice-store, &c.* The floor of one house is often on a level with the roof of the house beneath it. There are several European-like houses belonging to the great nobles not far from the palace. The entrances and windows all look to the west, so that approaching the town from the east it appears to be a motley jumble of houses without doors or windows. The gable ends terminate in long horns similar to those described before.
* A well-educated young secretary of the king’s one day asked me while looking at the print of a European town, “ where the yards were,” and expressed his astonishment that civilised people should manage to exist in houses that had no yards.
Passing the suburb of Faliarivo, where a small daily market is held, we entered the town, which has no fortification or regular boundary, and began ascending the hill by a steep, tolerably broad street. The walls and terraces of the adjoining houses were crowded with Hovas, men, women, and children, chiefs, freedmen and slaves, all inquisitive, laughing and smiling good-naturedly, and making free comments on the appearance and costumes of the foreigners.
When partly up the hill, we passed through an old ill-repaired arched gateway and guardhouse, after which the street became still steeper, and the crowd and heat increasing, we were not sorry to reach the top, where in an open space round the tomb of a chief judge, were assembled all the élite of Antananarivo. Dismounting from our chairs, a vigorous series of introductions and shakings of hands followed, and we were then conducted to the houses set apart for us. Razafinkarevo, one of the officials of the prime minister, with the brothers Rabezandrina and Ra-bearana, both 13th Honours and Aides, accompanied us. The first-named has received an English education, and the two last could both read and speak English fairly. Followed by a numerous crowd, we turned down the street to the noilh, and after several intricate windings and twistings, descended some steps, and passing through a doorway found ourselves on a terrace overlooking the west. In front of us was a single-storied, shingle-roofed house, with a good verandah, which commanded a mag-nifieènt view. We looked over the Vale of Betsimatatatra, and across the plains to the Ankaratra mountains, and the hills near Lake Itasy. Five hundred feet below us lay Mahamasina, the parade ground of the troops, a fine Champ de Mars, surrounded by a noble amphitheatre of hill and rock. This house was destined for the big-wigs of our party, the General and the Bishop. Anson and I found more modest accommodation in some neighbouring houses, where we also set up our mess-house and kitchen.
The luggage now fast arriving, we proceeded to make ourselves as comfortable as we could. In the evening we mustered all our bearers at the Kabary, or council-ground, an open green space not far off from us. These to the number of 430 were paid all their wages and dismissed with a bullock or two, which were killed for their benefit. The king sent us a fine fat ox as a present this evening, and several of the grandees and people of property sent oxen, sheep, geese, fowls, rice, &c., as presents. These kept pouring in, always accompanied with the necessary quantum of palaver and compliments. The ox sent us by the King was really worth noticing, with a hump the greatest I ever saw. The following are some of his dimensions:—
ft. in.
Height from top of hump ..... 5 8
Round girth behind hump..... 7
Length nose to buttock ..... 7 2
Behind hump to tail ...... 3 I
From tail to ground ...... 4 9
This animal had been fattened by feeding, and confining him in a Fahitra, a pit in which the creature is forced to eat standing, with its fore-feet on a higher level than its hind-legs. How would this answer in England ? Ask Mechi to dig a Fahitra at Tiptree.
| Introduction | Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Appendix |
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