The constant changes of climate, in so prolonged a journey as that to which these notes relate, must naturally somewhat try one's physical endurance, and also demands more than ordinary care in the preservation of health. Regularity of habits, abstemiousness, and no careless exposure will, as a rule, insure the same immunity from sickness that may be reasonably expected at home, though this result cannot always be counted upon. The sturdiest and most healthy-appearing individual of our little party wasMr. D——, who was in the prime of life and manly vigor when he joined us at San Francisco; but while the rest of us enjoyed good health from the beginning to the end of the journey, he lost health and strength gradually from the time we left China. Though receiving the most unremitting attention, both professional and friendly, he was conscious by the time we reached Singapore that he could not long survive. He passed away on the night of December 21st, and was buried next day at sea, with the usual solemn ceremony. It was a wild, stormy day, when the body was committed to the deep, causing the scene to be all the more impressive from the attendant rage of the elements.
Sailing Due West.—The Indian Ocean.—Strange Sights at Sea.—Island of Ceylon.—Singhalese Canoes.—Colombo.—A Land of Slaves.—Native Town.—Singhalese Women.—Fantastic Nurses.—Local Pictures.—Cinnamon Gardens.—Wild Elephants.—Lavishness of Tropical Nature.—Curious Birds and their Nests.—Ancient Kandy.—Temple of Maligawan.—Religious Ceremonies.—Life of the Natives.—Inland Scenery.—Fruits.—Precious Stones.—Coffee Plantations.—Great Antiquity of Ceylon.
Sailing Due West.—The Indian Ocean.—Strange Sights at Sea.—Island of Ceylon.—Singhalese Canoes.—Colombo.—A Land of Slaves.—Native Town.—Singhalese Women.—Fantastic Nurses.—Local Pictures.—Cinnamon Gardens.—Wild Elephants.—Lavishness of Tropical Nature.—Curious Birds and their Nests.—Ancient Kandy.—Temple of Maligawan.—Religious Ceremonies.—Life of the Natives.—Inland Scenery.—Fruits.—Precious Stones.—Coffee Plantations.—Great Antiquity of Ceylon.
After leaving Penang our course lay due west across the Indian Ocean, on a line of about the tenth degree of north latitude; the objective point being the island of Ceylon. We sighted the Andaman Islands as we passed, more than one of which has the reputation of being inhabited by cannibals; and as a matter of course some of the passengers became witty over the second-hand jokes about roasted missionary. The rains which we encountered in this equatorial region were so profuse, and yielded such a marvelous downpour of water as to almost deluge us, and set the inside of the good steamship Brindisi afloat. But the air was soft and balmy, the nights gloriously serene and bright, so that it was even more refreshing, more restful than slumber, to lie awake upon the quarter-deck, and gazing idly among the clustering stars, to build castles in the limpid atmosphere while watching the fleecy clouds floating across the gleaming planets, as a lovely woman's veil covers her luminous eyes for an instant only to vivify their splendor.
In the daytime large sea-turtles came to the surface of the water to sun themselves, stretching their awkward necks to get sight of our hull. Big schools of dolphins played their gambols about the ship, darting bodily out of the water, and pitching in again head foremost, no doubt holding their breath when submerged in atmospheric air, as a diver does when he plunges into the sea. Flying-fish were so numerous as to cease to be a curiosity, often skimming on board in their awkward attempts at aerial navigation, and being caught by the crew. As it is known that a light will attract these delicate little sea-moths at night, sailors sometimes extend a bit of canvas on a pole from a forward port, in the shape of a scoop, and placing a lantern above it, gather quite a mess of them in a brief time. One morning the cook brought himself into special notice by giving us a fry of the self-immolated creatures. Large watersnakes appeared at the surface now and again, raising their slimy heads a couple of feet or more above the waves. These have been known to board sailing ships by means of a stray rope left dragging in the water, or through an open port near the surface of the sea. But they would hardly attempt such feats with a swift gliding steamer, even if a trailing rope were to offer them the chance. Now and then the ship would sail for an hour or more through a prolific drift of that queer, indolent bit of animal life, the jelly-fish. How these waters teemed with life! Every school-boy knows that the ocean covers three quarters of the globe, but how few realize that it represents more of organic life than does the land. It is a world in itself, immense and mighty, affording a home for countless and manifold forms of life. Weare indebted to it for every drop of water distributed over our hills, plains, and valleys, for from the ocean it has arisen by evaporation to return again through myriads of channels. It is a misnomer to speak of the sea as a desert waste: it is teeming with inexhaustible animal and vegetable life. A German scientist has, with unwearied industry, secured and classified over five hundred distinct species of fishes from this very division of the Indian Ocean; many of which are characterized by colors as gay and various as those of tropical birds and flowers. Mirage played us strange tricks, in the way of optical delusion, in these regions. We seemed constantly to be approaching land that was never reached, and which, after assuming the undulating shore-lines of a well-defined coast, at the moment when we should fairly make it, faded into thin air. Sometimes at night the marvelous phosphorescence of the sea was fascinating to behold, the crest of each wave and ripple became a small cascade of fire, and the motion of the ship through her native element seemed as though sailing through flames. The scientific methods of accounting for this effect are familiar, but hardly satisfactory to those who have watched this phenomenon in both hemispheres. We began, nevertheless, to experience somewhat of the monotony of sea life, although the most was made of trivial occurrences; for out of the hundred days which we had been traveling since leaving Boston, nearly fifty had been passed upon various seas and oceans.
The voyage from Penang to Ceylon covers a distance of about thirteen hundred miles. We sighted the island on Sunday, December 24th, and landed at Colombo on the following day, which was Christmas.When we rounded the seaward end of the substantial breakwater now building, over which the lofty waves were making a clean breach, five of the large and noble steamships of the P. and O. line were seen moored in the harbor, making this a port of call on their way to or from India, China, or Australia. As the anchor-chain rattled through the hawser-hole, and the Brindisi felt the restraint of her land-tackle, we were surrounded by half a hundred native boats, most of which were Singhalese canoes, of such odd construction as to merit a special description. They are peculiar to these seas, being designed to enable the occupant to venture out, however rough the water may chance to be, and the surf is always raging in these open roadsteads. The canoe consists of the trunk of a tree hollowed out, some twenty feet in length, having long planks fastened lengthwise so as to form the sides or gunwales of the boat, which is two feet and a half deep and two feet wide. An outrigger, consisting of a log of wood about one third the size of the canoe, is fastened alongside at a distance of some six or eight feet, by two arched poles of well-seasoned bamboo. This outrigger prevents any possibility of upsetting the boat; but without it so narrow a craft could not remain upright even in the calmest sea. The natives face any weather in those little vessels.
There was a pretense made of examining our baggage by the custom-house officers, but this was simply for form's sake, and then the trunks were put into a two-wheeled canvas-covered cart, drawn by a couple of milk-white oxen, and we walked beside them a short distance to the hotel. It was observed that the driver of the bullocks had no whip, and thecircumstance was set down in favor of humanity; but it soon appeared that the fellow had a resort of another sort whereby to urge on his cattle, namely, he twisted their tails, compared to which whipping would have been to them a luxury. As we at once objected to the tail-twisting operation, the native gave it up and behaved himself with humanity. The sun, meantime, was doing its best to roast us, and we were only too happy to get under the shelter of the hotel piazza. We were waited upon with prompt regard to our necessities, and assigned to comfortable apartments. The rooms were divided by partitions which did not reach to the ceiling, the upper portion being left open for ventilation; a style of building peculiar to the climate, but not calculated to afford much more privacy than the Japan paper partitions in the tea-houses. But the hotel at Colombo was a very good one in all of its belongings, and the table excellent. While we sat at our meals, in the spacious dining-hall, long lines of punkas, or suspended fans, were worked by pulleys running outside, so that during these hours we were comfortable, notwithstanding the heat.
This island, situated just off the southern point of India, stands in the same relation to it that Madagascar does to Africa, and is very ancient in its historical associations, having been in the prime of its glory four hundred years before the coming of Christ, and how far back of that period its history extends is only problematical. It is separated from the continent by a strait called the Gulf of Manar, and is about the size of Massachusetts; containing, also, nearly the same aggregate population. It is believed to be the Ophir of the Hebrews, abounding as it does,to-day, in precious stones, such as rubies, sapphires, amethysts, garnets, and various mineral wealth. It is also, taken as a whole, one of the most beautiful regions of the world; the very gem of the equatorial region.
The English government have here large and admirably arranged barracks, suitable for the housing of a small army, the troops numbering at this writing between three and four thousand; but more than double that number can be provided for in the broad, open buildings, specially adapted to the service and the climate. The object is undoubtedly to maintain at this point a military depot, with which to supply troops in an emergency to India or elsewhere in the East. But it should be remembered that Ceylon, though a British colony, is quite separate from that of India, so near at hand. It is presided over by a governor, appointed by the Queen of England, an executive council of five, and a legislative council of fifteen. For the first time since landing in the East, we saw no Chinese. They ceased at Penang; for Chinamen, like some species of birds, move in flocks; they never straggle. There is here a sprinkling of Nubians, but the general population is Singhalese, with whom are seen mingled Arabs, Javanese, Afghans, Kaffirs, and Syrian Jews, these last with their hair in ringlets like young school-girls. The subjugated appearance of the common people is disagreeably apparent. In Japan, the submissiveness and humility of the population is voluntary, for they are a free and independent race after all; but here the natives are the merest slaves, realizing their humble status only too plainly. They call all white people "master" when addressing them: "Yes, master,"or "No, master," "Will master have this or that?" They would not dare to resent it if they were knocked down by a white man. The English government provides means for the education of the rising generation in the form of free schools; and the English language is very generally spoken by the common people. This is wise, for even in her colonial possessions she must multiply schools, or prisons will multiply themselves.
The police arrangements of Colombo are excellent. Notwithstanding the singular variety of nationalities, one sees no outbreaks; there is no visible impropriety of conduct, no contention or intoxication, quiet and repose reign everywhere. Though the ancient Pettah, or Black Town, inhabited solely by the natives, is not a very attractive place to visit, and though it is characterized by dirt and squalor, still it is quiet and orderly, presenting many objects of interest as illustrating the domestic life of the Singhalese. The same indolence and want of physical energy is observable among them as was noted in the Malays at Penang and Singapore. Man is but a plant of a higher order. In the tropics he is born of fruitful stock and of delicate fibre; in the north his nature partakes of the hardihood of the oak and cedar. The thermometer indicated about 90° in the shade during the week we remained at Ceylon, rendering it absolutely necessary to avoid the sun. Only the thinnest of clothing is bearable, and one half envied the nudity of the natives who could be no more thinly clad unless they took off their bronzed skins.
We made our home in Colombo at the Grand Oriental Hotel, kept by an Englishman. The servants were natives, but well-trained, and all spoke English.Each wore a white turban and a single white cotton garment, cut like a gentleman's dressing-gown, extending below the knee, and confined at the waist by a sash, thus being decently clothed. It was curious to sit on the piazza and watch the out-door scenes as they presented themselves to the eye. The women were strange objects, with silver and brass jewelry stuck through the tops and bottoms of their ears, through their nostrils and lips, their toes being covered with small silver coins attached to rings, and their ankles, fingers, and wrists similarly covered, but with scarcely any clothing upon their bodies. Both men and women frequently have their arms, legs, and bodies tattooed with red and black ink, representing grotesque figures and strange devices,—these pictorial illustrations on their copper-colored skins reminding one of illumined text on vellum. Like most Eastern nations, they do not sit down when fatigued, but squat on their heels to rest themselves, or when eating,—a position which no person not accustomed to it can assume for one instant without pain. The men wear their hair done up in a singular manner, combed back from the forehead and held in place by a circular shell comb, giving them an especially effeminate appearance; but the women wear nothing of the comb kind in their hair, their abundant braids being well plaited and confined by long metallic pins with mammoth heads. Some of the women are pretty, and would be almost handsome, if their ears and lips and noses were not so distorted; as it is, they have fine upright figures, and the dignified walk that so distinguishes their Egyptian sisters.
These women are very generally employed as nurses by the English officers' wives, and childrenseem to take very kindly to them, their nature being gentle and affectionate. But these nurses seem to form a class by themselves, and the taste for cheap jewelry could hardly be carried to a greater extent than it is with them. They are got up in the "loudest" style; after the idea of the Roman women similarly employed, or those one meets with children in the gardens of the Louvre at Paris, or the Prado at Madrid. The Singhalese nurses wear a white linen chemise covering the body, except the breast, to the knee, with a blue cut-away velvet jacket, covered with silver braid and buttons, open in front, a scarlet sash gathering the chemise at the waist. The legs and feet are bare, the ankles and toes covered with rings, and the ears heavy, weighed down, and deformed with them. These, like their sisters of the masses, often have their nostrils and lower lips perforated by metallic hoops of brass or silver, and sometimes of gold; to which is often added a necklace of bright sea-shells mixed with shark's teeth, completing the oddest outfit that can well be conceived of for a human being. Savagery tinctured with civilization. The native children of six, eight, and ten, were subjects of particular interest, the boys especially, who were remarkably handsome, clean-limbed, with skins shining like satin, and brown as hazel nuts. These boys and girls have large, brilliant, and intensely black eyes, with a promise of good intelligence, but their possibilities remain unfulfilled amid such associations as they are born to. They soon subside into languid, sensuous creatures.
As we sat shaded by the broad piazza in the midday, the native jugglers and snake-charmers would come, and, squatting in the blazing sun, beg us togive heed to their tricks. They are singularly clever, these Indian mountebanks, especially in sleight of hand tricks. The serpents which they handle with such freedom are of the deadly cobra species, fatally poisonous when their fangs penetrate the flesh, though doubtless when exhibited in this manner they have been deprived of their natural means of defense. True to their native instinct, however, these cobras were more than once seen to strike at the bare arms and legs of the performers. Rooks, of which there were thousands about the house, flew in and out at the open doors and windows, after their own free will, lighting confidently on the back of one's chair and trying the texture of his coat with their sharp bills. No one molests them here or makes them afraid. They are far tamer than are domestic fowls in America, for they are never killed and eaten like hens and chickens. A Singhalese's religion will not permit him to kill anything, except wild beasts in self-defense. The vegetation is what might be expected within so few miles of the equator: beautiful and prolific in the extreme. The cinnamon fields are so thrifty as to form a wilderness of green, though growing but four or five feet in height, and a drive through them was like a poetical inspiration.
The cinnamon bush is a species of laurel, and bears a white, scentless flower, which is succeeded by a small, oblong berry, scarcely as large as a pea. The spice of commerce is the inner bark of the shrub, the branches of which are cut and peeled twice in the course of the year,—say about Christmas and midsummer. The plantations resemble a thick, tangled copse, without any regularity, and require no cultivation, after being once set out; though by closetrimming the strength is thrown downward, and the shrub is thought to render a better crop. The raising of the spice was once a government monopoly, but all restrictions are now removed, and the plantations near to Colombo are private property. In driving through them—for they are miles in extent, and are poetically called cinnamon gardens—we tried in vain to detect the perfume derived from cinnamon; far too decided and pungent to be mistaken for aught else. It is not the bloom nor the berry which throws off this scent, but the wounded bark in process of being gathered at the semi-annual harvest. These cinnamon fields were very sweet and fragrant; there was the perfume of flowers in the air, but not even poetical license could attribute it to the cinnamon.
The wide-spread coffee plantations were much more attractive to the eye, the cultivation of which forms one of the principal industries of the island, supplemented by the raising and exporting of rice, tea, cocoanuts, pine-apples, plumbago, and precious stones. Ceylon, at one time, almost rivaled Java in the production of coffee; statistics showing that her export of the berry reached the large amount of a million hundred-weight per annum, before it was suddenly checked by the leaf disease, which has impoverished so many of the local planters. Among its wild animals are elephants, deer, monkeys, bears, and panthers,—fine specimens of which are preserved in the excellent museum near Colombo. Pearl oysters abound on the coast, and some superb specimens of this beautiful jewel have been found here, while no shore is richer in the variety and quality of its finny tribe. Game birds, especially of aquatic sorts, prevail.
Specimens of the ebony, satin-wood, andcelamendar-trees were met with, the latter the most highly prized of all cabinet woods, growing in wild luxuriance, surrounded by palms, bamboos, fragrant balsams, tall ferns, and the india-rubber-tree, large and lofty, with a majority of its anaconda-like roots lying above the surface of the ground. Here and there we came upon dark, shady pools, covered with the blooming lotus, like our pond-lilies, except that they are much larger. The floral display was fascinating. Nature seemed to revel in blossoms of various, and, to us, unknown species. While some large and brilliant flowers bloomed on trees, others, very lovely and sweet, caught the eye among the prolific undergrowth. Vivid colors flashed before the observer, caused by the blue and scarlet plumage of the feathered tribe among the branches of the trees, some with pleasant trilling voices, and others uttering harsh, shrill, unfamiliar cries. The variety of birds was a very marked feature of this tropical region. The keen voice of the Ceylon thrush rang in our ears like the scream of a young child. Many other smaller birds were seen in rainbow feathers; and a sparrow, like his English brother, except that the Ceylon species wear a white shirt bosom.
The difference between a tropical forest and that of our temperate zone, which at once challenges the notice of the traveler, is that trees of the same families do not characterize any particular spot. We have pine forests, oak forests, cedar, birch, and maple woods, and the like; but a tropical forest contains specimens of the most widely different classes, with every possible variety of family; and the same may be said of the countless climbing plants which cling to the vertical trunks. The various kinds of thepalm are sure to assert their predominance everywhere in the wooded districts and jungles of the tropics, yielding an abundance of their valuable fruits. But at the north, to see a peach or apple-tree bearing fruit in a pine grove, or fruitful cherry and pear-trees among a forest of oaks, would cause surprise. It is, after all, only a peculiarity born of the wonderful vegetable productiveness of the equatorial region, which gives birth to fruits and flowers wherever there is space to nourish their roots, and where moisture and heat have no other outlet whereon to expend their fructifying powers. The bread-fruit-tree is especially interesting, with its deeply serrated, feathery leaves, and its melon-shaped fruit, weighing from three to four pounds. This the natives prepare for eating in many ways, and as the tree bears fruit continually for nine months of the year, it forms a most important food supply. Two or three trees will support a hearty man, and half a dozen, well cared for, will sustain a small family, a portion of the fruit being dried and kept for the non-producing months. The tree grows to nearly fifty feet in height, and only requires a little attention,—no more than that marvel of productiveness, the banana.
Here we saw, for the first time, the cardamom and pepper bushes full of fruit, and the kitool-palm yielding its harvest of sugar, toddy, and sago. The usual pests of the tropics were not wanting to balance all these pleasant sights. Beetles, dragon-flies, cock-chafers, locusts, wasps, and vicious spiders, were visible everywhere; while the omnipresent mosquito was ever looking out for a victim. The curious nest of the tailor-bird, which sews leaves together and builds a dainty nest inside of them, was pointed outto us, and specimens of the weaver bird's nest, with entrance tubes over two feet in length. There were also pendent nests built by a species of wasp in the trees, which indicated a nefarious design to infringe upon bird architecture. The peacock is found wild here in all its wealth of mottled, feathery splendor. Storks, ibises, and herons flew up from the lagoons, and the cooing of the gentle wood-pigeon reached the ear during the quieter moments. The woods, and indeed all out-doors at Ceylon, seemed like a conservatory of exotic birds and flowers.
There is a well-equipped railroad extending from Colombo northward to the small but ancient city of Kandy, running thus about seventy-five miles into the very heart of the ancient native kingdom, and giving the traveler an excellent opportunity to view the inland scenery, which, at many points, is grand and imposing. Kandy is perched in a basin of the mountains, two thousand feet above the level of the sea, surrounded by thickly wooded hills; beyond which are broad plains and thick jungles, which are very rarely penetrated, and which have not been explored, probably, for centuries. Here wild elephants are to be met with in herds. It will be remembered, that they are indigenous to Ceylon, and from here Hindostan was supplied in the centuries that are gone, when the huge animal was employed in such large numbers during the Mogul reign. In those days there were elephant fights, when these animals, like gladiators at Rome, were trained to single combats, or duels, fur the pleasure of cruel masters; and such was their spirit that one or both were always sacrificed on such occasions. We afterwards saw, in India, the arenas where these gladiatorial contests took place, one ofwhich was located in the fort at Agra. A well-known peculiarity of this animal is the fact that it is almost impossible to breed from them in a domestic condition, thus rendering it necessary to replenish the ranks from the jungle. In their wild state elephants are a prolific animal; otherwise Ceylon would long since have been cleared of them, since thousands have been imported from here into India within the last fifty years. The Ceylon elephants prefer the low lying forests, but do not confine themselves to them, ranging the hills to a height of six or seven thousand feet, where the nights must be frosty and rather severe. Their principal food is the leafage and young shoots of various trees, the wild fig being a favorite. There are other trees of which they eat the bark, and the young roots of the bamboo form a large source of their food supply. Rice is, however, their favorite article of food, and they often devastate whole plantations in a single night. It is fortunate that the slightest fence will keep them away from any spot so protected: a single blow of their trunks would destroy a bamboo fence, but they never attempt it. Some idea, of which we can know nothing, possesses them as it regards these frail fences. The male elephant in Ceylon gets its full size at about twenty-two years, and is then about twelve feet in height. We were told that they averaged about a hundred years of life, but in India a much longer period is given them by general calculation.
It has been found necessary to protect them by special law in Ceylon, as European sportsmen came hither in such numbers after the large game, that they threatened their extinction. There is now, therefore, a fine of five hundred pounds imposed bygovernment, as a penalty for killing an elephant; but some rich English sportsmen kill their elephant and pay the fine. It will be remembered that the Duke of Edinburgh visited the island a few years since to participate in an elephant hunt, when great preparations were made for him, and good success, from a sportsman's point of view, was achieved. This style of hunting involves considerable risk, and native beaters are liable to lose their lives in the business. The animals found on the island seem to be quite a distinctive breed from any other known race, and are noted for their intelligence, as well as for their docility, after proper domestication. They are not so large as those of Africa, but seem to be more highly prized in India. The exportation, as we learned, still goes on in behalf of the English government, sixteen hundred animals having thus been disposed of in the five years ending in 1862, and about the same number in the intervening time up to January, 1883, all of which went to India.
The principal object of interest at Kandy is the renowned and ancient temple of Maligawa, where the sacred tooth of Buddha has been preserved for more than fifteen hundred years. It is an indescribable old shrine of irregular, low architecture, black and grimy with "the sacred rust of twice ten hundred years," surrounded by a walled court and small stone apartments. It is surmounted by a tower, manifestly European in design, and which tells its own story as a modern addition. It is massive and uncouth, so as hardly to admit of classification; though it must once have been the central object of worship to a very large population, and is held so sacred that the king and priests of Burmah and Siam still send valuablepresents to it annually. A sacred bo-tree was pointed out to us in the grounds near the temple, believed to be the oldest historical tree in the world. It is nearly allied to the banyan species, and its record has been carefully kept since three hundred years previous to the Christian era. The temple, though wearing a most deserted and neglected aspect, is still in charge of a few yellow-robed priests, who keep up an appearance daily of regular services, such as they are, and more heathenish ones were never witnessed. The ceremonies during our brief visit consisted of grotesque dancing, beating of drums, and blowing upon a shrill fife before a rude altar, upon which incense was burning. There was also marching, by these musicians, around the altar, led by a dirty, blear-eyed priest. The scene was strongly suggestive of a powwow as performed by the Digger Indians of California. So great was the din, we were quite willing to take for granted the presence, in another part of the temple, of the tooth of Buddha, without personal inspection, and hastened to get away from the annoyance as soon as possible. As we came out of the reeking, stuffy, infected building, we expanded our lungs and umbrellas at one and the same time, for it was "raining cats and dogs" just at that time, and when it rains near the equator it does so in earnest; umbrellas become a fallacy: nothing less than an india-rubber coat is of any avail. What an exhibition of mummery it was in that time-begrimed temple! Ceylon is the classic ground of Buddhism, as its ruined temples and monuments prove,—a faith which still prevails so generally throughout Burmah, China, and Japan.
The house at which we stopped in Kandy, the onlyone designed for the accommodation of travelers, is called the Queen's Hotel, quite pretentious, quite expensive, and very poor, especially as it regards the table. One would think a plenty of fruit, at least, might be afforded where it only costs the time and trouble of gathering, but we were obliged to seek such cheap luxuries of the itinerant outsiders. There was a liberal abundance, however, in the insectivorous department. Centipides and other noxious creatures abounded in the sleeping-rooms. Fire-flies floated about them in such force at night as to contest the illuminating power with the primitive light supplied to guests, by means of a small cork with a bit of cotton wicking floating upon a shallow dish of cocoanut oil. We will not dilate upon the still more offensive insects which disputed our sleeping accommodations with us, but did protest when the rain came pouring through the roof and ceiling upon us in bed. A large tub was brought in, the bed removed to another corner; and we fell asleep, lulled by the dull sound of dropping water, to awake next morning and find the tub overflowing.
We drove through the very extensive and well-arranged Botanical Garden of Kandy, designed as a sort of experimental nursery for the introduction of such plants as are not indigenous to the island, but which might prove to be of value to the planters could they be acclimated. The selection of various trees and plants is very extensive, and mingled with those of native origin, together forming a collection of remarkable interest. We were told that the garden had been organized for some sixty years, and it is, undoubtedly, the finest in the East, next to that of Calcutta. It covers a hundred and fifty acres ofwell economized land. There was one fine group, we had almost said grove, of bamboos to be seen here, the stems being considerably over a hundred feet high, and from eight to ten inches in diameter,—a native of the spot. The rapidity of growth which characterizes these grasses—for that is their family—is almost incredible. The large cluster here spoken of was less than ninety days old, and, the superintendent told us, increased twelve inches a day by actual measurement! We had read of plants growing at such speed in the tropics as to be visible to the watcher, and this group of bamboos was increasing at the rate of half an inch each hour. It being observed that the atmosphere was impregnated with a delicate flavor of vanilla, inquiry was made for the cause, and the plant was pointed out to us growing in thrifty abundance close at hand. Nowhere had we previously seen such extraordinary exuberance and variety of tropical vegetation combined.
Some of the palms were of stupendous size and height, while there appeared to be a spirit of emulation between talipots, palmyras, date-palms and fan-palms, as to which should develop into the finest specimen of its class. There were plenty of flying foxes in these grounds, and some remarkable specimens of the jungle-rope creepers, or elephant-creepers, as they are more generally called here, which clasp the trees to which they attach themselves as if with the purpose of their destruction, which they often succeed in producing by their anaconda-like-hug. The flying foxes, as was explained to us, are a great annoyance, and destructive to fruit and blossoms, always attacking the choicest specimens. They move in flocks or herds of hundreds from one place to another, as themost desirable food tempts them. The natives never touch them, but hunters from Europe have cooked and eaten them, pronouncing the flesh almost the same as that of the hare, with similar game-like flavor. It is not safe to walk much in the more moist portions of the garden as there is an abundance of snakes, and especially of one poisonous kind which is the terror of the natives.
On the passage from and back to Colombo, the scenery was grand, and a source of great pleasure, for our appreciation in this line was becoming somewhat trained. So abrupt was the rising grade of the road on the portion approaching Kandy, that even our small train of two passenger cars required two engines to enable it to surmount the hills. The road wound about the mountain in rather startling proximity to the deep gorges and precipitous cliffs; but, as remarked above, giving us glimpses of scenery worthy of the Yosemite in the opposite hemisphere. At the several small stations where we made a brief halt, girls and boys brought to the windows of the cars yellow bunches of freshly picked, ripe bananas, very choice and appetizing, the price of which was six pennies for a bunch of twelve or fifteen, and so we partook of the fat of the land. New England fruits, as a rule, are more satisfactory to us than those of any other country, delicious as we sometimes find them in the tropics; but an exception may be safely made in favor of freshly picked, ripe, luscious bananas and pine-apples. Green cocoanuts, which the natives much affect, were offered to us, but having a decided preference for ripe fruit, these were respectfully but firmly declined.
The common people along the route live in thevery simplest and frailest of huts, made of bamboo frames with walls of mud, the roofs consisting of a thatching of large palm leaves ingeniously combined, one layer upon another, so as to effectually exclude even equatorial rains. The overlapping eaves come within a couple of feet of the ground, the huts being one story high. They have no chimneys nor windows. The door, always open, admits all the required light, and there is no cold to be feared in Ceylon. Whatever of cooking the people do, and it is very little, is accomplished out of doors. Many of the small hamlets through which we passed were embedded in low-lying, thickly-shaded woods, showing the salubrity of the climate, since in some countries such a location would prove to be the very hot-bed of jungle fever. Here the natives work in the rice-fields and the swamps at all seasons of the year, and seem to be perfectly healthy; but we were told that when Europeans attempt it they die off by scores. Quite a large number of Singhalese are employed by dealers at Colombo to hunt the beds of small streams, and to dig in the mountains in search of gems, such as sapphires, cat's-eyes, moon-stones, topazes, and rubies, which, after being cut, are sold to European and American travelers, and also exported to the Paris and London jewelers. A large proportion of the finest precious stones in the market come from this island.
The pools in the low grounds here and there were rendered beautiful and fragrant by the lotus in full bloom, bearing flowers eight inches in diameter, rivaling the magnolias, which were plenty enough, but which seemed by no means superior to our northern specimens. Does this proud representative of Flora'skingdom, like humanity, require a northern and invigorating atmosphere to inspire its greatest fragrance and best qualities? Coffee plantations are most numerous inland, though they have lately developed a serious blight which has reduced the production at least fifty per cent., causing many to abandon the cultivation of the berry. It is not, like the cinnamon, indigenous to Ceylon, but was introduced here from the main-land. Unless this serious scourge can be overcome, coffee, as an export from the island, will very soon cease. The kind best known and mostly grown here is the "Arab," which thrives at an elevation of three or four thousand feet. It is bush-like in form, and trimmed to within three feet of the ground, both for the purpose of throwing down the strength of the growth into the berry, and for the convenience of picking. There are other sorts of coffee raised, but this has formed the staple of the island. Experiments are being tried with several other kinds just now, cuttings growing with good promise in nurseries, which were brought from the West Indies and South America. Curious facts suggest themselves in this connection. The grape-vines of France, which have developed blight, transferred to California, take on fresh life and flourish. Those of the latter State, which show symptoms of exhausted life, renew their productiveness when in the soil of Europe. The same result relating to coffee is hoped for in Ceylon: with an exchange of seed, plentiful crops are confidently anticipated, a matter in which commerce is much interested.
Realizing that the coffee crop is still in an experimental condition, some of the planters are giving their attention to the cinchona, which thrives greatlyat Ceylon, even flourishing at elevations where coffee naturally dies out. The seeds of the cinchona are planted in nurseries, and when six months old are transplanted into prepared fields, where they make rapid growth. They do not begin to yield until the tree is eight years old. The earnestness with which the planters have generally adopted this idea must, if successful, as it seems sure to be, lead to very decided results when the crop becomes available for the markets of the world.
Banana groves and orchards bending under the weight of the rich nutritious fruit, tall cocoanut-trees with half a ton of ripening nuts in every tuft top, ant-hills nearly as high as native houses, rippling cascades, small rivers winding through the green valleys, tall flamingoes presiding over tiny lakes, and flowers of every hue and shape, together with birds such as one gazes at with curiosity in northern museums, all crowded upon our vision on this trip inland. No one should fail to visit Kandy who lands at Colombo, there is so much to see and to marvel at. Ceylon is a very Gan-Eden, the fairest known example of tropical luxuriance in all its natural features, its vegetable and animal kingdoms, its fruits, flowers, and scenery. In point of location the island is also greatly favored. It is fortunately situated outside the region of the cyclones, so frequent at certain seasons in the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean, as well as being free from the hurricanes of the Mauritius Sea, and the volcanic disturbances of the Eastern Archipelago. Snow is absolutely unknown. The exhibition of zodiacal light is not uncommon, and mirage in its many singular and interesting aspects is frequent; while the effulgence of the moon and stars of this latitude,—a constantlyrecurring hymn written in light,—will render the most prosy individual enthusiastic, keeping the heart constantly awake to love and beauty.
Ceylon is also much richer than is generally realized in its prehistoric monuments,—ancient Hindoo and Buddhist temples, and ruins of lofty pagodas from three to four hundred feet in height, dating many centuries previous to the appearance of Christ upon earth. What an unexplored field remains for the antiquarian, not quite untrodden, but still undeveloped! There is every evidence to show that there once existed upon this island a great and powerful empire; the gigantic remains of palaces and temples at once suggest the fact. There are also ruins to be seen of a most elaborate system of irrigation, which must have covered the country from Adam's Peak to Galle, like a net-work, with most perfect means to this end, so excellent as to be the marvel of modern engineers. Their completeness, intelligent purpose, and extent are marvelous. But no one can say, or reasonably surmise, what caused the ruin and decadence of the ancient capitals, which, like those about Delhi, have crumbled away, leaving only a blank memorial of their existence. What could have swept from the globe a population of millions, and left us no clearer record of their once highly civilized occupancy? The carved pillars, ornamental fragments of temples, and stone slabs skillfully wrought, which are scattered through the jungle, and in some instances overgrown by dense forests, attest both material greatness and far-reaching antiquity. It would seem as though nature had tried to cover up the many wrinkles of age with blooming vegetation. There are no legends even extant relating to the earliest of these remains. Pæstum, Memphis, and Cumæreach far back into the dim past, though here the antiquarian is able to light us with the lamp of his knowledge; but as to the forest-covered remains of Ceylon, all is a blank, skeletons of the dead and buried past, mementos of a race who trod this beautiful island perhaps before the Pyramids or the Sphinx existed.
At Singapore, Penang, and Colombo it was observed that the common classes were incessantly chewing the betel-nut, which gives to their teeth and lips a color as if bathed in fresh blood. It is a well-known and long-established practice. The men carry the means about them at all times, and taking a piece of the nut, enclose it in a leaf of the same tree, adding a small quantity of quicklime; folding these together they chow them vigorously, one quid lasting for twenty-five minutes or half an hour, being at times permitted to rest between the gum and the cheek, as seamen masticate a quid of tobacco. The nut is known to be a powerful tonic, but only a small portion of the juice is swallowed. The habit is universal among the lower classes of Asiatics. In the southern districts of India, pepper and cardamom seeds are added to the quid, and it is then considered to be a partial preventive against malarial influences. Unless it produced some agreeable stimulating effect its use would not be so common. Wherever we go, among civilized or savage races, upon islands or upon continents, in the chilly North, or the languid, melting South, we find man resorting to some stimulant other than natural food and drink. It seems to be an instinctive craving exhibited and satisfied as surely in the wilds of Africa, or the South Sea Islands, as by the opium-consuming Chinese, or the brandy-drinking Anglo-Saxons.
Arrival in India.—Tuticorin.—Madura.—Bungalows.—Reptiles and Insects.—Wonderful Pagoda.—Sacred Elephants.—Trichinopoly and its Temples.—Bishop Heber.—Native Silversmiths.—Tanjore.—The Rajah's Palace.—Pagoda and an Immense Stone Idol.—Southern India.—City of Madras.—Want of a Harbor.—In and about the Capital.—Voyage through the Bay of Bengal.—The Hoogly River.—Political Capital of India.—A Crazy King.—The Himalayas.—Sunset and Sunrise at Darjeeling.
Arrival in India.—Tuticorin.—Madura.—Bungalows.—Reptiles and Insects.—Wonderful Pagoda.—Sacred Elephants.—Trichinopoly and its Temples.—Bishop Heber.—Native Silversmiths.—Tanjore.—The Rajah's Palace.—Pagoda and an Immense Stone Idol.—Southern India.—City of Madras.—Want of a Harbor.—In and about the Capital.—Voyage through the Bay of Bengal.—The Hoogly River.—Political Capital of India.—A Crazy King.—The Himalayas.—Sunset and Sunrise at Darjeeling.
We took passage in the British mail steamship Kebela from Colombo to Tuticorin, the extreme point of southern India, once famous for its pearl fisheries; but now as forsaken and sleepy a spot as can be found on any sea-coast. The distance from Colombo is less than two hundred miles through the Straits of Manar, and we landed on the following day, after a stormy passage, during which the rain came down with tropical profuseness. Ceylon, at harvest time on the plantations, imports laborers from the southern provinces of India, who are very glad thus to earn a small sum of money, a commodity of which they see little enough at home. Seven or eight hundred of these laborers, having fulfilled their object at the island, were returning to the main-land, and literally crowded the lower deck of the Kebela fore and aft. They formed rather picturesque groups as they reclined or stood in their rags, nakedness, and high colors combined.
When we got up the anchor in the harbor of Colombo, it seemed to be pleasant enough, but scarcelywere we outside of the breakwater before the steamer began to roll and pitch like an awkward mule under the tickling application of the spur. Too much accustomed to the roughness of the sea to heed this, we were nevertheless very sorry for these exposed deck-passengers, few of whom escaped seasickness. Crowded together as they were during the copious rainfall, their sufferings that afternoon and night were pitiable. There were some families with women and children, and such shelter as a canvas awning could afford was kindly arranged for them. When we anchored in shoal water off the coast next morning, and the big flat-boats came to take them ashore, they had hardly strength and spirit sufficient to tumble into these craft, no doubt promising themselves, as usual, never, never again to quit the dry land. The water being very shallow, the Kebela anchored five miles from shore, making it necessary for us to take a small steam-launch to land at the little toy pier built on the beach. Our miniature vessel was tossed about like a bit of cork on the waves, but we had long since come to regard a wetting by salt-water as a trifling matter.
Tuticorin is a quaint old place of very little importance, dingy and dilapidated. It is represented to have twenty thousand inhabitants, but one would not have set the figure at more than half that number. There is still something done here in the pearl fisheries, though the most active stations are situated some thirty miles up the coast. We here got our first view of a new race of people, the East Indian proper, in his native land. It was easy to detect special differences in the race from the people left but a short day's sail behind us. They were tall and erectin figure, square shouldered, and broad chested. Their complexions were lighter, features clearer cut, and they were a more active race. They had not full lips or flat noses like the Singhalese and Malays; so that although there was a similarity between them, yet there was a strong difference when one came to sum up the characteristics of each.
The architecture of the town is peculiar, and the few old public buildings odd in the extreme. Tuticorin sends some cotton, rice, and cocoanuts to market, but its business must be very limited. An hour's walk took us all over the town without discovering any object of special interest. Being connected by rail with northern India, if there were depth of water sufficient for steamers to make a landing here, without lying five miles off shore, Tuticorin would certainly become an important Indian port. It was New Year's Day when we landed, and was apparently being celebrated in an humble way by the few people whom we saw. The children were displaying toys, playing games, and some bore flowers aloft arranged upon poles as wreaths and hoops. Itinerant peddlers were disposing of sweetmeats to eager boys and girls. Both the articles sold and the money which was paid for them looked new and strange. Some young maidens, in half-civilized attire, displayed high-colored garments and small scarlet kerchiefs on their heads. The passion for, and habit of wearing cheap jewelry, had been imported even here, and some of the extravagances of Colombo were copied by the women in ornamentation of ears, nose, and lips. Little babies were thus bedecked, and the tender ears of some consequently hung distorted and stretched three inches downward, both the upper rim and the lobe of theinfant's ear being perforated with rings. Brass bangles on arms, wrists, and ankles were the rule, some of the men also wearing them. Here, on the main-land, the tattooing of the body seemed to have ceased, and the shining, naked skin of the men and women looked clean and healthy.
In the afternoon of the day on which we landed, the cars of the South Indian Railway were taken to Madura, one hundred miles northward, where we arrived late in the evening, and took lodging in a government bungalow, unfurnished, except by a few temporary articles improvised for the occasion, our meals being served at the railroad station not far away. The bungalow was in the midst of a grove of cocoanut palms which loomed high above our heads, laden with masses of the large brown fruit. It was dark and shady even at noonday. Close by was an ancient stone well, baths, and irrigating means, showing that where the jungle now is had formerly been a cultivated field with crops of grain. Native shanties were located all about the neighborhood, the people living mostly out of doors, gypsy fashion. It would be too hot to cook or to eat within these low-roofed mud walls. We found that flies, mosquitoes, and scorpions were inclined to dispute the possession of the bungalow with us; and ugly looking snakes were seen in such proximity to the low piazza as to suggest their uninvited entrance by doors or windows. India swarms with vermin, especially in the jungle. We did not fail to examine our shoes before putting them on in the morning, lest the scorpions should have established a squatter's right therein. Flying foxes were seen upon the trees, sometimes hanging motionless by the feet, at others swinging to andfro with a steady sweep. Ants were now and then observed moving over the ground in columns a foot wide and three or four yards long, evidently with a well defined purpose. In the morning light, after the sun had risen, clouds of butterflies, many-colored, sunshine-loving creatures, large and small, in infinite variety, flitted about the bungalow, some with such gaudy spread of wing as to tempt pursuit—but without a proper net they are difficult to secure. Large brown, bronze, and yellow beetles walked through the short grass with the coolness and gait of young poultry. Occasionally a chameleon turned up its singularly bright eye, as though to take cognizance of our presence. The redundancy of insect and reptile life is wonderful in southern India. The railroad stations and the road itself, admirably constructed and very fairly equipped, are the only evidences of European possession to be seen between Tuticorin and Tanjore, a distance of four hundred and fifty miles. The road passes through a generally well cultivated region where thrifty fields of wheat, barley, and sugar-cane were to be seen, with here and there broad fields of intensely yellow mustard, but the appearance of the people and their mud huts indicated abject poverty.
The principal attraction to the traveler in Madura, which contains some fifty thousand inhabitants, is a remarkable and ancient pagoda, supported by two thousand stone columns. It was dedicated to Parvati, wife of Shiva, and is one of the largest and finest monuments of Hindoo art in existence, covering in all its divisions, courts, shrines, colonnades, and tanks twenty acres of ground. It has nine lofty tower-like gates of entrance and exit, each one of which has the effect of forming an individual pagoda. Inthe central area of the temple is what is known as the Tank of the Golden Lotus, being a large body of water covering a couple of acres of ground, leading into which are broad stone steps on all sides, where the people of both sexes were bathing for religious purification; an idea not hardly compatible with the filthy condition of the water itself, which was nearly covered with a green slime. The temple contains many living sacred elephants, deified bulls and cows, enshrined idols, and, to us, meaningless ornamentations, too varied and numerous for description. Our local guide stated the probable cost at a figure so high we refrain from recording it. The elephants rivaled the beggars in their importunities, being accustomed to receive unlimited delicacies from visitors, such as sweetmeats, cakes, candies, and the like, of which these creatures are immoderately fond. One peculiarity of this temple was that it seemed to serve a double purpose, being dedicated to trade and religion. Within its walls we found established a large number of trading booths, forming a sort of bazar or fair, where were exhibited dry goods, toys, domestic utensils, jewelry; in short, all sorts of fancy articles. Madura is famous for producing high-colored napkins, small shawls and table-cloths, all on fire with color, and here they were displayed in strong kaleidoscopic effect. We thought it must be the occasion of some special charitable fair, after the practice of religious societies in more modern countries; but were informed that these merchants were engaged in their regular vocation, and were permanent fixtures in the temple. The natives crowded about these small bazars, and seemed to freely invest the few coppers they had. We were followed aboutthe courts, chapels, and departments of the immense structure by a motley and curious crowd, the girls and women satisfied to watch and stare at us; but the boys had imported a London and Dublin idea: turning cart-wheels, somersaults, and walking all about us on their hands, with feet in the air, to attract attention and elicit pennies. One little fellow gyrated about in a most marvelous style, keeping so persistently topsy-turvy as to grow black in the face, and we finally paid him to keep right side uppermost. Begging is reduced to a science in India, and our little party were beset, as by an army with banners.
Half a mile from this grand pagoda is situated Timal Naik's Tank, so named after the munificent rajah who built it. He reigned at Madura from 1621 to 1657, building palaces and temples by the score. The so-called tank is an artificial lake extending over six or eight acres, with a temple in its centre, very picturesque in effect, and approached only by boats. Timal Naik's palace was also visited, built some three hundred years ago, of granite, and a very remarkable piece of solid architecture it is for India to have produced, in that section, and at that epoch. The principal hall of this royal residence has over a hundred stone pillars supporting it. We were shown a grand Saracenic hall, with a noble dome nearly a hundred feet across, called the Hall of Justice. The whole of this grand palace is now being thoroughly restored, after having been permitted for half a century and more to fall into partial decay. We must not forget to mention the banqueting hall of the palace; nothing finer of this character exists in modern architecture. The whole was a surprise and delight, as we had not even read or heard of this Indian palace.
Another hundred miles northward by rail brought us to the city of Trichinopoly, where we were quartered at a government bungalow, as at Madura, taking our meals at the dining-room of the railroad station, and were most agreeably disappointed with both the service and the provisions. Surely some professional cook had dropped out of the skies and settled here. The food was prepared and served as delicately as at a Parisian café. The variety of fruit and pastry was a temptation to the most satiated appetite. Everything was neat and clean, the linen faultless, and the glass and china were of the choicest. We often recalled, when putting up with indifferent service and deprivations elsewhere, the admirable entertainment which we experienced so unexpectedly at this point. Here the famous Rock of Trichinopoly, from five to six hundred feet high, crested with the Temple of Ganesa, was ascended, and a group of pagodas visited of the most lofty and striking character, similar in extent and general design to those already spoken of. It is not long since, at the assembling of a thousand and more pilgrims upon this lofty and exposed Rock of Trichinopoly, a panic ensued from some unknown cause, when fully half of these pilgrims lost their lives by being crowded off and falling over the rocky precipice, a distance of five hundred feet. There is no protection to the narrow, winding path by which the apex is reached, and some nerve is required to accomplish the ascent.
The view from this eminence is exceptionally fine. The native town far below us looked as though it had been shaken up and dropped there in confusion by some convulsion of nature. There is no regularity in the laying out of the place; it is a confused massof buildings, narrow paths, crooked roads, and low-built mud cabins. We visited what is called the silversmith's quarter, but it was utterly unlike what such a locality would be elsewhere, composed of one-story mud cabins, in narrow filthy lanes full of chickens, mangy dogs, cats, and quarrelsome children. No one but a native would suspect these hovels to contain choice and finely wrought silver ornaments, and that the entire manufacture was performed upon the spot. These workmen, nevertheless, have a reputation for the excellence and originality of their product, which extends beyond the borders of India. Boxes were produced from odd corners, which were full of exquisite silver work, forming such articles as bracelets, necklaces, rings, pins, belts, etc., from which our party made selections. Trichinopoly is also famous for the manufacture of cigars, called cheroots, exported to all parts of India and the East, and which keep employed the busy fingers of a large number of the men and women of the town. In passing the open doors of the dwellings, cabins, or huts, young girls and boys were seen rolling up the cheroots, sitting cross-legged beside low benches. The manufacture of cutlery is also a specialty here, and the place has some sixty thousand population. It will be remembered that the remains of Bishop Heber were buried at Trichinopoly, where he was drowned while bathing, in the year 1826. Here also occurred some fierce struggles between the French and English for the sovereignty of southern India.
Two hundred miles of night travel by rail brought us to Tanjore, a large fortified city, where we were again quartered in a government bungalow, there being no hotel designed to accommodate travelers.The palace of the late Rajah, an ancient building with lofty towers, and still occupied by the ex-queen, was quite interesting. We were permitted to examine its internal economy, and found by the library that her husband was a man of cultivation and taste, especially well read in the classics, and a good linguist. His bookcases showed several thousands of good and well-thumbed books in English, French, Latin, and Greek.
Here we saw a large gilded car of Juggernaut, the Indian idol, which makes its annual passage to and from the temple when the idol takes its yearly airing, and is drawn by thousands of worshipers, who have come from afar to assist at the strange and senseless festival. Pilgrims, delirious with fanaticism, do sometimes throw themselves under the ponderous wheels and perish there, but the stories current among writers upon the subject as to the large number of these victims are much exaggerated. This self-immolation, like that of the burning of widows upon their husband's funeral pyres, has latterly been suppressed. Between 1815 and 1826, fifteen thousand widows thus perished in India! We were told that in some native provinces the practice was even now secretly followed to some extent, but this is doubtful.
The grand pagoda of Tanjore has been rendered familiar to us by engravings and is truly remarkable, being esteemed the finest specimen in India of pagoda construction. It is fourteen stories high, and in the absence of figures we should say was over two hundred feet from the base to the top, and about eighty feet square at the ground. Among its other strange idols and emblems it contains, in the area before the main temple, in a demi-pagoda, the gigantic figure ofa reclining bull, hewn from a single mammoth block of black granite, and supposed to be of great antiquity. It stands within an open space, raised some twelve feet above the surrounding court, upon a granite plinth of the same color, but how it could have been raised there intact is a marvel.
All of these structures are kindred in design, reproducing here at Tanjore the spirit and many of the same figures which were seen at Madura and Trichinopoly. As they are the temples of the same idolatrous race this is natural. All are many centuries in age, and are characterized by grotesqueness, lasciviousness, caricature, and infinite detail of finish. Though they are outrageously gaudy in colors, yet are they on so grand and costly a scale as to create amazement rather than disgust. It would seem that a people equal to such efforts must have been capable of something far better. In all grosser forms of superstition and idolatry, carnal and material elements seem to be essential to bind and attract the ignorant; and this was undoubtedly the governing policy of a religion embodying emblems so outrageous to Christian sensibility. This grand pagoda at Tanjore, taken as a whole, was the most remarkable religious monument we saw in India. The city has, as prominent local industries, the manufacture of silk, cotton, and muslins. It is also surrounded by vast rice-fields the product of which it largely exports to the north. Another day upon the cars traveling due north brought us to Madras, where we found a good hotel and excellent accommodations, to which we were in a frame of body and mind to do ample justice.
In traveling through southern India to this point,we observed frequently on the route of the railroad strange monuments and many ruins of temples, pagodas, and odd structures of stone, manifestly serving in by-gone ages some religious purpose. Now and again in open fields, or more generally by small groves of trees, there were mammoth stone elephants, horses, bulls and cows, more or less crumbled and decayed by the wear of centuries, but evidently objects of worship by the people who constructed them, being still held too sacred to be meddled with by the ignorant and superstitious natives, whose mud hovels cluster about them. At several points, away from any present villages or hamlets, large irregular circles of heavy, unwrought stones were observed in open fields, or near to some mounds of grass grown earth, perhaps covering the remains of former shrines. These seemed of the same character and called to mind the ancient débris which still exists at Stonehenge, and undoubtedly marked the spot of ancient sacrifice. Large flocks of goats tended by herdsmen were distributed over the plains, and so level is the country that the eye could make out these groups for miles away on either side of the track. Well cultivated plantations of sugar-cane, plantains, rice, wheat, and orchards of fruit were constantly coming into view from the cars. The olden style of irrigation was going on by means of the shaduf, worked by hand, the same as was done in the East four thousand years ago; while the very plow, rude and inefficient, which is used upon these plains to-day, is after the fashion belonging to the same period. Indeed, except that the railroad runs through southern India, there seems to have been no progress there for thousands of years. A lethargy of the most hopelesscharacter appears to possess the people. Their mud cabins are not suitable covering for human beings, and are distanced in neatness by the colossal ant-hills of wooded districts. Such a degraded state of humanity can hardly be found elsewhere among semi-civilized races. The women seemed to be worn down by hardships, and were pitiable to look upon; but the men were of dark hue, straight in figure, always thin in flesh, and remarkably like our American Indians. Nudity is the rule among them, clothing the exception. It seems like a strange assertion, but it is a fact, two thirds of the human family go naked in the nineteenth century.
Madras is situated on the open Bay of Bengal, without even the pretense of a harbor, though a grand stone breakwater, like that at Ceylon, is in course of construction. It is after the plan which was adopted by De Lesseps at Port Said, forming the Mediterranean entrance of the Suez Canal. The material which is being employed for the purpose is also the same, and is composed of a conglomerate of small stones and cement in the form of large cubes. The Prince of Wales, when on his visit to India some five or six years since, laid the foundation stone of this structure, but though it is so much needed it seemed to us to grow very slowly. No more unprotected spot could be found on the surf-beaten shore of the Coromandel coast, so completely is it exposed to the fury of the northeast monsoons. It is singular that it was ever selected for a commercial port, being inaccessible to sailing vessels from October to January, and yet it was the first capital of the British possessions in India. Such a surf is nearly always to be found on the shore that nothing but thepeculiar boats of the natives can pass it, and in foul weather it is in vain for even them to attempt it. Nevertheless along this inhospitable shore, for a distance of several miles, there extends a thriving, finely laid out city, with a population of nearly half a million.
Madras is spread out over a very large territory, with broad open fields and squares, some designed for drill grounds, some for games of ball, some purely as ornamental, with choice trees and shrubs. An abundant and handsome growth of trees all about the city, lining the thoroughfares and beautifying the open squares, testifies to the judicious attention given by the authorities to this species of ornamental and grateful shade, necessary in so warm a climate. We remember especially a fine and quite remarkable avenue of banyan-trees on what is called the Mowbray Avenue. The wide streets are admirably kept, being carefully macadamized, over which carriage wheels glide with noiseless motion. This description applies, however, only to the European portion of the town, with its fine public buildings, consisting of many literary and scientific institutions, as well as educational and charitable ones. The native portion of Madras is contracted, mean, and dirty in the extreme, the common people showing a degree of indigence and indifference to decency which is absolutely appalling to witness in so large a community, but it was quite in accordance with what we had observed farther south. The elaborate English fort is one of the strongest and best constructed fortifications in the East, forming a most prominent feature of the city, and crowning a moderate rise of ground contiguous to the shore with its attractivesurroundings, white walls, graceful though warlike buildings, flower plats, and green, sloping banks. Fort George was the original name of Madras. The noble light-house is within the grounds,—a lofty structure considerably over a hundred feet in height, and visible nearly twenty miles at sea. Near this spot, along the coast to the northward, are the rock-cut temples of Mahabalihuram, rendered familiar by Southey's charming poetry.
At night we were lulled to sleep by the hoarse, sullen roar of the restless waters. By day it was curious to watch the long surf-washed beach, directly in front of our hotel, and to see the fishermen struggle with the waves in their frail, but well adapted native boats, called catamarans. These are constructed of three pieces of timber, ten or twelve feet long, tied securely together with cocoanut fibre; the middle one being longer than the others, and curved upwards at each end. Two men generally go together, and force them through the water with short paddles used alternately on either side. We saw them repeatedly washed off by the surf; but as they are naked and good swimmers, they either reach the boat again, or, if driven away from it by the sea and undertow, regain the shore. Sometimes only one is washed off, but not unfrequently both are compelled to swim back to the shore where the frail boat itself is soon after thrown high upon the beach by the power of the waves. We were told that it was a very rare circumstance for one of these Madras boatmen to lose his life by drowning, as they become such expert swimmers.
A peculiar boat is also used between the wharves and the shipping, which come to anchor somedistance off shore, landing passengers or taking them from the shore to the ship. Even where these boats are used, partially protected by the half-completed breakwater, no common boat would answer the purpose, or would stand the strain. The surf runs high even here, though not so fiercely as on the open beach. The Madras boat is large and light, constructed of thin planks sewed together with hide thongs, and caulked with cocoanut fibre. No nails enter into its construction, nor would answer the purpose, which the yielding thongs only are fitted for. Each of these boats is propelled by at least eight rowers, who use an oar shaped like a spoon, being a strong elastic pole with a flat, rounded end, securely lashed to it by hide thongs. The men pull regularly until they get into the surf, and then they work like mad, and the light boat is landed high and dry on the shelving sands.
Along the shore of the business section, the broad street is lined with lofty commercial warehouses, custom house, hongs and godowns, and we observed considerable building in progress just at this point. The submerged breakwater should be brought up to its proper height before anything else is attempted in or near the bay. Anchorage is very precarious, large steamers being compelled to keep up steam to ease any strain which may come upon their land tackle. One large iron vessel lay a wreck upon the beach, and was sold at auction, to be broken up, while we were there. She was loaded with coal for the depot of the P. and O. line.
In driving and strolling about the city we noted many local pictures. Groups of professional dancing girls are to be seen in all of the cities of India,generally attached to some temple, as no religious ceremony or gala day is considered complete without them; and indeed the same may be said of any large private entertainment, as guests never dance in the East, preferring to hire such work done for them. These dancers are accompanied by a musical instrument very much like a guitar, and sometimes by tambourines and fifes. Many of the girls are delicate and graceful both in form and manner. Those who adopt the calling consecrate themselves to it by some religious ceremony, and ever after are connected with the temples. They preserve decency and propriety in their public performances, which is curious to witness; their ankles being covered with silver bells and their wrists and arms similarly decked. Their effort appears to be that the bells should be so agitated as to ring in harmony with the instruments; but the fact is there is no harmony about either. These girls depend more in their performance upon pantomime, expression of features, pose of body, and graceful posturings, than upon any great exertion of muscle.
In their peculiar performance there is no exposure of the person, as in the Parisian style of dancing, only half clad as they are. These Indian girls endeavor to tell a story by their dance: to express love, hope, tenderness, jealousy, and other passions, all of which are so well portrayed, as a rule, that one can easily follow their pantomime. When idle, they sometimes perform as itinerants in the streets and squares, as was the case when we chanced to see a small group at Madras. Positive information regarding them is not to be obtained, but enough was heard to satisfy us that they constitute a priestly harem.
After passing a very pleasant week in Madras, wesailed at daylight, on the 11th of January, in the P. and O. steamship Teheran, for Calcutta, through the Bay of Bengal, a five days' voyage. Soon after leaving the roadstead of Madras there was pointed out to us on the port bow the low lying coast of Orissa, India, where the famine of 1866 carried off one million of souls. As we drew northward a decided difference in the temperature was realized, and was most agreeable; the thermometer showing 70° at Calcutta, in place of 90° at Madras, so that portions of clothing, discarded when we landed at Ceylon, were now resumed. Since entering these southern waters we had remarked the entire absence of sea-gulls, so ever-present on the Atlantic and North Pacific; but the abundance of Mother Carey's Chickens, as the little petrel is called, made up for the absence of the larger birds. It is swallow-like in both its appearance and manner of flight, and though web-footed is rarely seen to light on the water. It flies very close to the surface of the sea, frequently dipping for food; but never quite losing its power of wing, or at least so it appeared to us. Sailors, who are a proverbially superstitious race, seriously object to passengers at sea who attempt to catch the petrel with hooks baited with food and floated on the water, or by any other means, contending that ill-luck will follow their capture.