The Pearl of India

Services and ceremonies of an appropriate character – that is, in accordance with the faith of this people – are constantly going on in and about the Temple of the Tooth, night and day, all the year round. Our hotel at Kandy was opposite and very near to the old shrine, and night was made hideous for us by the senseless howling of the priests and the notes of the drum, cymbals, and fife, supplemented now and again by the blowing of blasts upon a conch-shell, more shrill and piercing than a fishhorn signaling in a fog. The unearthly noises which issued from the open doors of the temple of Malagawa was something dreadful at midnight, and utterly inexcusable upon any pretense whatever.

"How can these priests and their assistants maintain sufficient interest to keep up this terrible din so ceaselessly?" was asked of a local planter.

"The funds of the temple are ample," was the reply. "There is a constant flow of rupees into the treasury, and these people are well paid for their services in keeping up the sham."

"Whence comes the money?" was asked.

"Large sums come from India and from visiting pilgrims, besides which the faithful native Singhalese contribute in the aggregate no inconsiderable amount."

"Credulous orientals," was our response.

"You must remember," was our companion's reply, "that this edifice and the surroundings, including the bo-tree, is considered the holiest spot in all the Buddhistic world."

The ceremonies which took place within the temple during a brief visit by the author consisted of grotesque dances and the beating of drums and blowing of horns, all without any apparent rhyme or reason. A procession of dirty priests, preceded by a drum and fife, passed hither and thither before an altar upon which incense was burning. No coherence of purpose, however, was exhibited by any one, but each person seemed to be trying to make all the noise and grotesque gesticulations possible. A North American Indian powwow would be a fair comparison to the performance which was witnessed on this occasion. A few pilgrims, after first pouring water upon their hands and feet, purchased flowers from venders who frequent the doors of the temple, and placed them on and about the altar. This was the most sensible and consistent procedure which was adopted by priest or layman inside the temple walls. The flowers were the white blossoms of the frangipani, whose fragrance was oppressively strong. It was a great relief to get outside of the moss-grown edifice, far away from the horrible din and the terribly offensive smell, which permeated not only the place, but one's clothing for hours afterwards.

There are seven other temples and chapels at Kandy, belonging to different denominations, besides two Buddhist ecclesiastical colleges. The Malwatta temple is worth a visit, it being the most important Buddhist monastery, where all the priests of the order in Ceylon, upon assuming the yellow robe which is their badge of office, come to formally utter their solemn vows. These bronzed priests, in saffron-colored, toga-like robes, followed by an attendant carrying a yellow silk umbrella, are rather striking figures in the thoroughfares of this inland town. In the time of the late king, no one but his imperial majesty and the priesthood were permitted to carry an umbrella, but men with no other covering from the sun but a cloth wound about the hips carry this article in our day, and derive much comfort from the shade it affords.

The less said about what these natives call music the better. Indeed, it would seem as though oriental music was invented only to torment European ears. Ivory horns, tom-toms, fifes, and the rudest sort of bass drums are the instruments most in use with the Singhalese, a few Chinese stringed contrivances being occasionally added, simply increasing the horror. The sounds of the latter instruments resemble most the cries of a pugnacious conclave of tomcats on the rampage at midnight. The query forcibly suggests itself in this connection, as to whether the instrumental music of western civilized people can possibly sound to these orientals so uncouth and so hideous as do their own performances to us.

In the porch of the Kandy temple and its immediate vicinity, just as one sees in and about the Roman Catholic churches of Europe, are groups of wretched-looking beggars, at all hours, most of whom, after the conventional style prevailing elsewhere, exhibit some physical deformity which is their stock in trade. Some of these endeavor to excite sympathy by thrusting self-inflicted wounds before the stranger's eyes, – wounds which are kept in a chronic condition of soreness by various irritating processes adopted for this purpose. One cannot but be impressed as much through the picturesqueness of the scene presented by the half-naked, ragged, cadaverous throng as by the sad moral which these poor creatures suggest. There are adroit and ingenious beggars all over the globe, and nowhere do they more abound than in the East; individuals amply able to care for themselves, but who prefer to exercise persistent industry and cannibalism, so to speak, in living upon their fellow-men. The same degree of assiduity practiced in legitimate business or useful occupation of almost any sort would insure ample and respectable support. Begging and painted distress are indigenous to all climes.

Who that has ever been in Paris does not remember an old woman, neatly but plainly dressed, who sits daily, rain or shine, at the corner of the Boulevard Capucine and the Place de l'Opéra. She has sat there for years, and sits there still, with two wooden stumps in place of legs very conspicuously displayed. She does not speak to passers-by, nor does she ever solicit charity, but she accepts with grateful significance the silver and copper coins which are constantly dropped into her lap by a sympathetic public. The average man or woman who is able to be charitable is more or less practically so, and it is gratifying to indulge the creditable instinct. This woman of whom we have spoken had a daughter married not long since, on which occasion she received a dowry from her wooden-legged mamma of fifty thousand francs!

Let us not always be critical; if the object of our charity is really unworthy, then we have given our mite to humanity.

There is a very pleasant drive which the visitor to Kandy must not forget to enjoy. We refer to Hindo Galla, where a unique Buddhist rock-temple may be visited among a wilderness of boulders. There are a score of priests in charge, quite ready to act as cicerones to visitors. The available grounds about the temple are crowded with palms, tree-ferns, and flowers. There is also a fine old bo-tree dominating the place, which attracts the usual devotional attention of all true believers, and concerning the antiquity of which there is the usual amount of credulity.

About eight or nine miles from Kandy on the road towards Colombo, at the village of Angunawela, is an old Buddhist temple, which stands on the summit of an almost perpendicular rock. This edifice is in excellent preservation, and is a fine specimen of Kandian temple architecture. One is well paid for a visit to Angunawela and its local attractions.

CHAPTER XIII

Ceylon the Mecca of Buddhism. – The Drives about Kandy. – Fruit of the Cashew. – Domestic Prison of Arabi Pasha. – "Egypt for the Egyptians." – Hillside Bungalows. – Kandy Hotels at a Discount. – The Famous Botanical Garden of Ceylon. – India-Rubber-Trees, Bamboos, and Flying Foxes. – Dangerous Reptiles in the Garden. – The Boa Constrictor. – Success of Peruvian-Bark Raising. – Vicious Land Leeches. – The Burrowing and Tormenting Tick. – Where Sugar comes from in Ceylon.

Ceylon is the classic ground of Buddhism and Kandy is its Mecca, whither trend the devout followers of the prophet in myriads yearly. Rock-cut temples and other shrines are scattered over the hilly portions of the island, some of which are large, some small, but each one having a stone image of Buddha wrought after the conventional pattern. Most of these cave-temples are over a thousand years old, and some are twice that age, overgrown by jungle vines and tall palms. Next to Christianity, Buddhism is the most widely diffused religious institution in existence. Its code of morals, taken as a whole, is as perfect as the world has ever seen formulated. Does the reader understand that most of the great truths and wise axioms designed as rules of life which are prescribed in our Bible are found in the Buddhist scriptures? Above all, let us remember that the followers of this ancient oriental creed, professed at this writing by one third of the human family, have never shed a drop of blood to make a proselyte.

The drives about Kandy are over the most excellent roads, to follow which is like threading the paths of a continuous garden, while the air is laden with the fragrance of sweet-smelling lemon grass. Home-like, picturesque bungalows dot the hillsides as well as the shores of the lake already described. The roads which lead around the hills afford beautiful views; both far and near, turn where we may, the locality is full of pictures, enduring, and lovely to recall. This especially applies to a perfectly constructed road, known as Lady Horton's Walk, the views from which are indescribably beautiful. It is a broad, winding way around one of the most prominent hills, designed and constructed by the wife of Sir Wilmot Horton. As to the fragrant lemon grass, it covers most of the hillsides in the more open mountain districts of Ceylon, and is particularly abundant in the central province. There is an essential oil produced from this pungent grass which is known in commerce as citronella, a delightful and universally favorite extract. Wild blackberries and raspberries abound in this district. There is a peculiar fruit found here as well as elsewhere in the island, called the cashew, which persists in outraging all our ideas of consistency by producing its nut outside of the skin. This recalls a somewhat similar eccentricity exhibited by cherries in Australia, which have the stone which forms their seed on the exterior instead of the inside centre, like good, wholesome, well-behaved cherries in our own country. The fruit of the cashew is not palatable, but its juice, when distilled, produces a strong intoxicating spirit. The nuts are edible when roasted like chestnuts.

In one of the large villa-bungalows nestling on the hillside overlooking the verdant amphitheatre of Kandy lived that notable political prisoner, Arabi Pasha, with his ample harem and a host of body servants, forming a bit of Egyptian domestic life transported bodily to this Indian isle. It will be remembered that he was exiled from Cairo by the English about twelve years since, because he was a famous and successful fighting general among his people, his special battle-cry being "Egypt for the Egyptians." One feels a lingering sympathy for a man who fought bravely for the liberty of his country, very nearly conquering the British troops on the sanguinary field of Tel-el-Keber; yet this man deserves more blame than praise, for it was he who recklessly burned Alexandria, and caused a reign of assassination in that devoted city for many terrible days. Though a prisoner like the first Napoleon when held at St. Helena, Arabi has never hesitated to freely express his political opinions, bitterly condemning his conquerors. He is still – and very properly we think – the ardent advocate of "Egypt for the Egyptians," and even in his advanced years would promptly head a rebellion against English rule in his native land, were he at liberty to do so.

A report has lately been circulated that Arabi Pasha has been permitted to return to Egypt, but as to its truth the author cannot answer.

Each of these hillside dwellings, like that occupied by Arabi Pasha's, covers a large space of ground. They are seldom over one story in height, and have a tall, steep-pitched roof of red tiles or thatch, and wide verandas running entirely round the whole structure, half covered by thrifty creepers and flowering vines. The roof generally reaches beyond the veranda until it ends six or eight feet from the ground. The interior of the dwelling is dark and cool, as the doors and windows all open beneath the shade of the roof. No sunshine can penetrate these dwellings, and consequently there is an inevitable unwholesome dampness ever present inside them.

The population of Kandy amounts to some twenty-two or three thousand, embracing but a few Europeans, – that is, comparatively speaking. Those of the latter class not included in the government departments are mostly interested in tea, coffee, or cinchona raising, in the immediate neighborhood. The Europeans have established two small hotels, or at least they are called hotels; but any one obliged to tax their hospitality for a considerable length of time has our sincere commiseration.

The author's experience on the occasion of his first visit to Kandy in the matter of hotel accommodation was not especially agreeable. Passing over the abundance of insectivorous annoyances, – centipedes upon the walls, gigantic cockroaches on the floor, and ants upon everything, – it was rather severe to be obliged to remove one's bed from beneath a leaking roof, which admitted a steady stream of water. When it rains in these latitudes, it does so by wholesale; not in little pattering drops, but in avalanches and miniature Niagaras. However, a large tub being produced, we were lulled to sleep by the dull sound of dripping water, to awake next morning and find the receptacle overflowing. The novelty of the situation often smooths over the keen edge of discomfort. The fireflies that night floated about the chamber in such numbers as to dispute the illuminating power with the primitive light supplied to guests, which consisted of a small button of cork, with a bit of cotton wicking, floating upon a shallow dish of cocoanut oil.

There are several missionary chapels in Kandy, besides an Episcopal church, a library, and a reading-room for public use. Very little visible business seems to be transacted here, but as to the natural surroundings of this inland capital, the scenery, the arboreal beauties, and the floral charms, too much cannot be said in commendation. It seems to a casual visitor to be the most attractive district in the island, forgetting, as every reasonable traveler learns to do, the few local annoyances.

The justly famous Botanical Gardens of Ceylon form a marvel of plant life, and are situated about three miles from Kandy proper. The grounds are entered through a grand avenue of india-rubber-trees, whose tall, widespread branches are heavy with polished dark green, leather-like leaves, vividly recalling the splendid avenue of palms in the public garden of Rio Janeiro, situated behind the tall peak of the Corcovado, – "the Hunchback." This garden of Ceylon occupies about a hundred and fifty acres, and is surrounded on three sides by the Maha-velle-Ganga. The india-rubber-trees are buttressed by large, exposed white roots, very anaconda-like at first view, showing that this tree draws its subsistence largely from atmospheric air. The roots often spread a hundred and fifty feet in diameter, so twisted and peculiar in shape that the natives call it the snake-tree. The removal of the milk-white secretion by tapping does it no apparent injury, it being a distinct product, flowing in a different channel, it would seem, from the sustaining sap. We were informed that a healthy, full-grown tree might be drawn upon daily for two thirds of the year with good results. The Ceylon species of the india-rubber-tree is not nearly so productive of the peculiar secretion which makes its value as those which are indigenous to South America. Indeed, it is not a native of this Indian island, but was introduced by the Portuguese while they held sway. No attempt is made here to produce the article known as gutta-percha in commercial quantities, and, indeed, the tree is not sufficiently abundant in Ceylon. The headquarters of this industry are at Pará, on the coast of Brazil, where the product of the india-rubber-tree forms the great staple of the exports, and its collection in the neighboring forests gives employment to a large share of the native population.

This elaborate garden, one league south of Kandy, probably forms the choicest and most extensive collection of plant life in the world. It is, except for the nature of its tropical vegetation, like a well-kept European conservatory or park, ornamented by choice lawns and magnificent groups of trees, special families being arranged together. The average temperature here is recorded at 77° Fahr. This, together with the natural and abundant moisture, insures the very best results. A small stream runs through the middle of the grounds, widening here and there into a tiny lake, where a great variety of aquatic plants thrive luxuriantly, including the gorgeous and ever attractive lotus, together with many other examples of the lily family. This garden has been organized for about seventy-five years, – to be exact, it was opened in 1819, – during which period the original idea has been well adhered to, of introducing by its means such plants as are not indigenous, but which might, if cultivated here, be of real benefit to the inhabitants. Fortunately, it has always been presided over by an enthusiastic and scientific horticulturist. All kinds of useful vegetation of tropical regions are represented, their nature studied, and a record kept of the same, while seeds, cuttings, fruits, and the like are freely distributed to farmers and planters, European and native. The variety of palms in these grounds is a revelation to the average visitor, as few persons know how many distinctive examples there are of this invaluable member of the arboreal family of the East, some of which are stupendous in size. We have been told that the garden contained two hundred and fifty distinct varieties of the palm, but one may reasonably have doubts as to so large an aggregate. Among them are talipots, palmyras, cocoanuts, the slender areca, the date palm, and the fan palm, already described, spreading out its broad leaves like a peacock's tail. This is often called the traveler's tree, because the trunk is never without a supply of pure water with which to quench his thirst. When pierced with a knife at the juncture of the stems, it yields copious draughts of water. Here one sees palms from Cuba, Guinea, China, Africa, and Brazil, each exhibiting some special characteristics of importance, and all thriving, together with clumps of climbing rattans. These latter, not thicker than one's finger, yet wind about the trees from two to three hundred feet in height, having the longest stem of any known plant. Small groves of nutmegs, cloves, mangoes, citrons, and pepper-trees attract the visitor's attention, together with budding cinnamon and cardamom bushes; nor must we forget to mention the fragrant vanilla-tree, which to the author recalled a delightful experience in far-away southern Mexico, where a mountain side near Oxala was rendered lovely and delicious by the profuse growth of this flavoring product of the tropics.

Here and there a tall, thrifty acacia is seen, suffused with golden-yellow bloom in rich profusion. Excepting the California pepper-tree, with its drooping clusters of useless but lovely scarlet berries, the varieties of the acacia are unrivaled as beautiful shade trees. When in full bloom, under the dazzling rays of an equatorial sun, they seem to be all on fire, forming a strong contrast to the prevailing dark green of the tropics.

The flower of the cinnamon-tree is white, and when a range of country containing many acres in bloom comes into view, the effect is very beautiful. The best cinnamon gardens are nearest to the sea coast, and those so situated produce the most pungent bark. On the occasion of our visit, special notice was taken of a group of bamboos in the Kandy garden, the bright yellow stems being over a hundred feet in height, and each stem at the base measuring from eight to ten inches in diameter. It was a native of the spot, and, as we were assured, was a chance development. The rapidity of its growth, which is a remarkable characteristic of this tropical grass, – for that is its family, – is almost incredible. The cluster here spoken of was a little more than ninety days old, and, as the superintendent informed us, it increased in height twelve inches and more each twenty-four hours. This group of bamboos formed a grove by itself, two hundred feet in circumference, its feathery, misty foliage yielding gracefully to every pressure of the breeze, softly fanning the surface of the still water on whose brink it flourished. The bamboo, like the palm, is one of the most valuable and universal products of the tropics. It would require an entire volume to enumerate the various uses to which these two are applied by native skill. The division of the garden called the fernery is a delightful resort, presenting a collection ranging from the low-growing maiden-hair to the tall tree-fern with broad-leaved, tufted top and declining branches.

One can well understand how easily a botanist may become absorbed in the study of this interesting family of plants. The variety and delicacy of form which they exhibit is infinite, ranging from the minutest specimens, almost like moss, to trees of thirty feet in height, with palm-like plumes. In the famous gardens just outside of Calcutta, the author visited a large conservatory occupied solely as a fernery, in which over thirty thousand specimens were classified.

Mischievous flying foxes abound in the neighborhood of Kandy, proving a serious annoyance to the planters, often taking the lion's share when the fruit is ripe, always selecting with greedy intelligence the most desirable product of the trees. They move in flocks, a hundred or more together, stopping where-ever the food is most inviting. The natives seem to have a mysterious dread of and never touch them, but European hunters sometimes kill and eat them, declaring the flesh to be much like that of the hare. The creature measures nearly three feet between the tips of its extended wings. The flying fox is unable to take flight from the earth, and if found there can easily be caught, nor can they run under such circumstances, but, waddling along, seek the nearest tree-trunk, which they ascend with great ease by means of their long, sharp claws. From the branches they throw themselves with a strong impetus, skimming for considerable distances through the air, like the flying squirrel of the low latitudes, and the flying possum of Australia. This last animal, like the kangaroo, is found only in the country just named, where the natives, having no religious compunctions as to the sacredness of animal life, kill the possum and feast heartily upon its body roasted in hunter's style.

It is not quite safe to walk in the moist and thickly overgrown parts of this garden of Peradenia, – the local name, – as there are dangerous snakes which one is liable to encounter, besides other reptiles of low latitudes, not always poisonous, but best avoided. Professor Haeckel tells us how terrible he found the nuisance of mosquitoes and stinging flies in this tropical garden. "There are of course mosquitoes certain in all such places," he says, "but far more dangerous than these annoying insects are the poisonous scorpions and millepeds, of which I have collected some splendid specimens, – scorpions six inches and millepeds a foot long." The chameleon is not so common as the last-named creatures to which the professor refers, and is not so noticeable, since its nature is to closely reflect the color of the tree or stone on which it may chance to rest for the time being. They are not liable to be detected unless in motion.

The ticpolonga, a deadly snake, the terror of the natives, is often found in this garden. The largest snake in Ceylon is the boa or anaconda, which is often seen here measuring over twenty feet in length. It feeds mostly on small animals, and is very little feared either by the natives or Europeans. It is not an agreeable sight, nevertheless, as the reader may suppose, to see a large boa moving along the ground near one's person, and free to act its own pleasure. Their deadly coil about any animal is almost sure death. The many vivid stories which have been published about the aggressive nature of this creature are, we believe, mostly exaggerations. The poisonous cobra, whose bite is as fatal as that of our dreaded rattlesnake, is much more to be feared under ordinary circumstances. The larger snake must be very hungry and greatly annoyed to induce it to attack any other than small animals like a rabbit or a rat, and as a rule they avoid the presence of human beings. Nevertheless, a boa will sometimes be seized with an aggressive purpose without any apparent cause. This has been proved in several instances where, after having been freely handled in a museum for months without harm, the creature has suddenly applied its great muscular strength to the purpose of strangling the exhibitor, winding its body with lightning-like rapidity about his throat and body. Under such circumstances, the life of the man has been saved by the instant action of associates, who severed the snake's body in several places with sharp knives. Any other attempted relief would have led to an increase of the strangling process. In one instance, at an exhibition in this country, it was necessary to cut the snake away piecemeal with a butcher's knife before the terrible muscular contraction of its body was relaxed. It was accomplished none too soon, as the insensible victim was already nearly dead, and was only resuscitated after prolonged and skillful effort.