CHAPTER XXI. 1824. Drought in the south of India-Consequent famine and disease-Instance of Hindoo prejudice-Missionary excursion-Journey to Negapatam-Romish Bishop of Pondicherry-District Meeting - ConjeveramInstance of the superstition of the Hindoos-Death of Mrs. Mowat-Journey to Negapatam-French literature in India-Difficulties of passing rivers— Translation of Hymns into Tamul-Arrival in Negapatam-Opening of a New Chapel. THE year 1824 was remarkable for circumstances which will cause it ever to be remembered by all who at that time resided in Madras and the south of India. The continuance of the drought, which even in January, immediately after what ought to have been the wet monsoon, had been already so destructive to vegetation that I had seen many of the houses of the natives unroofed, for the purpose of giving the old thatch as fodder to the cattle in the hope of keeping them alive till rain should again renew the face of the earth; the consequent scarcity and famine, by which, notwithstanding the liberality of the Government and the extraordinary exertions of private charity both European and Hindoo, many thousands terminated a miserable existence; the prevalence of the Cholera Morbus, whose ravages were not confined to the starving population, but extended to all classes and carried off some of the highest officers of the local Government, occasioning mourning in every circle, if not in every house; the expedition against 220 EFFECTS OF DROUGHT. Burmah which took from us many dear and highly valued military friends, who were never to return ;-all combined to form an era not easily to be forgotten. The reader who has not witnessed a drought in a tropical climate can hardly imagine its effects: men and cattle were to be seen lying dead; and the latter being frequently allowed to remain unburied, tainted the air with noxious effluvia; the fish at the bottom of the tanks and rivers, having no means of escape, became a seasonable prey to the kites and crows, and ultimately these latter not unfrequently dropped dead from the wing exhausted by heat and want of sustenance. In many instances the prejudices of the Hindoos gave way to the stress of their necessities; persons whose difference of caste would under other circumstances have been an entire bar to intercourse, might be seen crowding together to partake of the food prepared for them by the hand of charity. There were, however, many exceptions, sufficiently illustrative of the iron reign of superstition over the Hindoos. One day, whilst we were at dinner in the Mission House in Madras, a woman much worn by hunger and fatigue, came into the garden, and standing opposite our door, gently lowered from her back a tall lad reduced to a mere skeleton, unable to stand or move without help, imploring pity and assistance. I immediately directed the rice and curry on the table to be taken to them; but the woman both rejected it herself and refused it to her famishing child, because it was against the rules of her caste to eat any food cooked or touched by Europeans. An excursion through Tripassoor, Wallajahbad, and Poonamallee, in the month of April, in company with my colleague Mr. England, afforded us many opportunities of preaching in English and Tamul, of conversation with the natives, and of distributing a number of portions of the Holy Scriptures and tracts. It was our decided conviction that itinerancy reduced to a system and regularly attended to, would greatly forward the objects of our Mission among all classes; we accordingly gave some intimations of our intention to revisit some of the places after a certain time, which subsequent events, however, did not allow us to fulfil. In May, Mr. England and myself travelled together down the coast to Negapatam, to attend a District Meeting to be held there: our journey both going and returning was chiefly remarkable for the intense heat we had to endure, whether we rested under the shade of trees or in the choultries and bungalows. Sickness was prevailing to a great extent; we had in consequence many applications for medicine, which was sometimes administered by Mr. England and received by the people with a confidence in its efficacy, which, though almost ludicrous, no doubt contributed to the advantage of the patients. In Pondicherry we waited on the Romish Bishop, who received us with great dignity and kindness. As he was not much more master of English than I of French, we soon adopted Tamul in which he conversed fluently, as the medium of communication. As it was merely a complimentary visit, I had no intention of entering into any discussion, but when he adverted in terms of disapprobation to the labours of the Bible Society and their agents, in the hearing of a number of natives who had surrounded the entrance to witness the interview between their bishop and a heretic Missionary, I entered into the dispute and challenged him to point out any of those essential errors he professed to complain of in the Tamul translation of the Holy Scriptures, and invited him to co-operate with us in the revision of the new translation then in hand. At Negapatam we were met by four of our Missionaries from the north of Ceylon, who with ourselves were partakers of the attentions and hospitalities of Mr. Mowat and the other British inhabitants during the meeting. Mr. Lynch announced to us his intention of returning home, a failure of health and other circumstances having rendered advisable a visit to his native land. He accordingly embarked from Madras in the following July, with the blessings and prayers of hundreds, who had been benefited by his ministry and had a high regard for his character. Soon after the arrival of Mr. Carver, who in August came over from Jaffna, in Ceylon, to supply the vacancy occasioned by Mr. Lynch's departure from Madras, I accompanied him through the circuit we usually travelled, in which Conjeveram (mentioned page 161) is one of the most important and interesting places. The Collector's bungalow at this place, where we were entertained, is built on the bank of an extensive pool, then quite exhausted of water by the drought, but retaining sufficient moisture in the mud to emit a noxious air and promote the production of insects. At night the heat within doors was so great and the insects so annoying, that both Mr. C. and myself removed into the open verandah and stretched ourselves on the floor to sleep. I awoke with a burning fever which confined me for two or three days, and then passed off without doing me further injury. This indisposition hindered me from witnessing an absurd ceremony performed at that time in Conjeveram, in the temple of Vishnu. At the bottom of a deep tank within the courts of the temple, was an idol of wood which, according to tradition, had lain there undisturbed for forty years, and was now only rendered approachable by the dryness of the season. At a time appointed the mud was opened, and the multitude gratified by a sight of the object of their worship: gallons of milk and conjee or rice water were poured on the image, which was then adorned with sweet scented flowers and covered with a fine muslin cloth bordered with gold. Thus ornamented, he was visited and adored by thousands of persons, many of whom had travelled |