CHAPTER V.
Indian Weights, Measures, Coins and Merchandise.
I. THE Aratel, an Indian word, signifies a pound, merchants’ weight, of sixteen ounces. Twenty-four such Aratel or pounds make a Manna, which commercial people call Mao. Four Manna and eight Aratel make, in some provinces, a hundred weight. Of this kind is the hundred weight at Cochin. At Calcutta or Calicut the hundred weight is heavier than at Cochin. At the latter place and Travancor it contains, at present, only one hundred and twenty-eight Aratel.
The Tulam or Tulao is a weight equal to a hundred Palam.
The Palam consists, in some places, of an hundred and fifty Cochinese Panam or Fanam; but in others, of two hundred and ten; and in some, of three hundred.
The Rupee at Madras and Puduceri weighs thirty-two Cochinese Panam, as the silver Panam current at Cochin makes the thirtieth part of a silver rupee. Eighteen Cochinese Panam weigh one ounce.
Calangia is a weight equal to eleven Cochinese Panam and one quarter.
Mangiadi is a weight equal to half a Cochinese Panam.
Kaicia is a weight equal to four Calangias.
The great Panam of Madras is the sixth part of a rupee.
The small Panam is the twelfth part of a silver rupee.
The large Panam of Madras makes almost five Cochinese Panam and a quarter; but the rupee, which weighs thirty-two Cochinese Panam, is never worth more than twenty, or at most twenty-four, according to the course of exchange and the value of money, the determination of which depends merely on the government and bankers. It is said in some books of Travels, that these weights and their names have been conveyed from India to Ormus, Bassorah, and Mascate in Arabia, as well as to Malacca and the island of Ceylon. It is, however, worthy of remark, that the amount of these weights has been changed, and their names corrupted. Thus some write Rotoli, Ratoli, and Rutoli, instead of Aratel; Tulao, instead of Tulam; and Palao, instead of Palam.
The heaviest weight in India is the Candil, which is equal to five hundred Aratel, or pounds. There is also a kind of Candil which weighs sixteen, and another which weighs twenty Manna. It is highly necessary, therefore, that people should acquire an accurate knowledge of the Indian weights, since they are as different as the European pound, which consists sometimes of sixteen, sometimes of ten, and sometimes of twelve ounces.
Articles of merchandise are weighed in India with two different kinds of instruments. The oldest is the Tulàsa, or Roman steel-yard, called by the French Crochet, or Péson. In the Malabar language it is known by the name of Vellicòl or Niracòl; and, when very large, by that of Taranacòl. The other balance, which has two shells, is called Tulam. The former is the most common, and the figure of it may be seen on ancient monuments.
II. The measures for liquids are:
- 1. Dangàgi, which contains four Nàgi or Nali.
- 2. Nàgi, or Nali, which is equal to one pint.
- 3. Ciòdana, which contains thirty-two Nàgi.
- 4. Araciòdana, equal to sixteen Nàgi or pints.
- 5. Codam, which contains five Ciòdanas.
- 6. Uszakada, the quarter of a pint.
- 7. Aszaca, the eighth part of a pint.
- 8. Uri, half a pint.
- 9. Muszaca, three quarters of a pint.
III. The Indian measures of length, &c. are:
- 1. Cora, the eighth part of an inch.
- 2. Virel, an inch.
- 3. Col, a foot in length, containing twenty-four
- Virel.
- 4. Mulam, an ell, the length of one’s arm; called
- by the Portuguese, Covodo; and by the
- French, Coudée.
- 5. Ciana, a palm.
- 6. Tumà, a square foot.
- 7. Candi, a cubic foot.
All these weights and measures have been introduced at Madraspatnam, Puduceri, Paliacate, Nagapatnam, and on the coast of Malabar; at Cochin and Calicut, as also at Collam and Angiutenga near Cape Comari.
A Candil of Teka wood, which is the best in all the Asiatic countries for being manufactured, cost at Cochin, in my time, eight rupees; but as soon as it was carried to Madraspatnam, where none of it grows, it could be sold for sixteen or eighteen rupees. White cotton cloth is sold by the Mulam, or ell. Some pieces contain thirty-two Mulam, and others sixty-four. A piece of the former kind is worth from ten to fifteen rupees: one of the latter twice as much. For ten rupees, therefore, you may purchase sometimes in India eight or ten cotton shirts, which in Europe could scarcely be procured for twenty Roman Scudi.
A Dangàgi of raw white rice, called Arri, was worth at Cochin, in my time, four Panam or Fanon of that place. If this sum be reduced to Roman money, a Nagi or pint would cost about two and a half Roman Bajocchi. A Ciòdana of coco-nut oil was sold, at Cochin, for thirty-two and thirty-three or at most thirty-six Panam; but at Madraspatnam, on the coast of Ciòlamandala, where there are few coco-nut trees, this oil was much dearer.
A hundred weight of dry clean pepper is worth, at Allapushe, Porrocàda and Collam, on the coast of Malabar, between 60 and 70 rupees; but on the coast of Ciòlamandala it costs from 90 to 100.
The Vediuppu, or saltpetre, which comes from Bengal, brings only a low price at Madraspatnam; but if transported to Cochin on the Malabar coast, it becomes exceedingly dear on account of the carriage. If readers in general, therefore, do not pay particular attention to the distances of places, they will be often at a loss in regard to the price of merchandise; because the same article valued at fifty rupees by one traveller, is estimated by another at a hundred. The case here is the same as when one says: In the month of July it is winter in India, while another asserts that at that period it is summer. Both at bottom are right; for the one alludes to the coast of Coromandel, and the other to the coast of Malabar, where in July the rainy season commences, and consequently winter. These apparent contradictions disappear when people reflect on time, place and climate, and the particular circumstances under which the traveller or writer lived.
In Pegu a weight called Tical has been introduced. It weighs fourteen Roman Danari, twenty-four of which are equal to an ounce. In Siam the Tical weighs also fourteen Roman Danari. The Tical of Pegu contains four Tomat, or four Magnon, which is a piece of silver equivalent to about four Roman Julios[50]. Half a Tomat is called Tebe, and, to be standard, should be equal in weight to eight grains of rice. Sixteen of these grains make, therefore, a whole Tomat. A hundred Tical are equal to one Bisa; and the Bisa contains thirty-four ounces Italian weight. Two rupees of Madras weigh in Pegu seven Tomat. Such is the information given by Father Joseph de Amato, in his notes to the manuscript of the Peguan philosopher Maha Tabassi Dharma Rajah Guru, which is preserved in the Borgian Museum at Velitri. In the same museum there is also an original standard of the Peguan Tical, with all the weights belonging to it. They are of brass, have a cylindric form, and bear the impression of a four-footed dragon, with an elevated crest, and its tail doubled over its back. The Peguan coins are ugly shapeless pieces of pure silver, which have no mixture of alloy. They are weighed like other articles of merchandise by the Tical, Tomat, Tebe and Bisa.
The chief articles with which trade is carried on in India are: Paradise wood from Malacca; Copra, that is, the kernel of the coco-nut, from which oil is made; excellent copper from Japan; coco-nut oil; Palma Christi; calamine; storax; cassia bark from Malabar; yellow wax from Malabar and Madura; assa fœtida; Armenian bole; borax; sweet cosius root; myrrh from Mascate; sal-ammoniac from Arabia and Persia; Arabian and Persian dates; cummin from Madura and Bengal; cuncuma (not curcuma) or yellow saffron, called also Terra merita Malabarica; white and yellow pulverised sugar-candy from China, Batavia, and Bengal; Chinese rhubarb; turbith; Arabian frankincense from Mascate; purging aloes; prunes from Malabar; ginger from Malabar and Madura; gum lac from Bengal and Malabar; lac, gold, and precious stones from Pegu; ivory from Ceylon and Pegu; apes from Malabar and Ceylon; benzoin from the Maldivan islands; black amber from the same; musk from Thibet and Bengal; opium from Bengal; sweet flag, mirrors, porcelain, tortoise-shell and tea from China; spikenard from Thibet and Bengal; gum sandarac; long pepper from Bengal; black-grained pepper from the same; red and white sandal wood, and dried fish from Malabar; Chinese varnish; China ink; pearls from Cape Comari and the island of Ceylon; cinnamon from Ceylon; nutmegs and cloves; canes from Malacca; purging cassia from Malabar; tamarinds from Malabar and other parts of India; silk from China and Bengal; saltpetre from Bengal; rice from the same and from Mangalor; different kinds of wood from Malabar, such as Teka, Bitti, Ayani, Benga, and coco-tree wood; male and female slaves from the coast of Ciòlamandala and Malabar; Cafre slaves from the coast of Africa; horses from Arabia; precious stones from Ceylon and Pegu; white and coloured cotton stuffs, Tapissendis, and other kinds of cloth, from Bengal, Paliacate, Madras, Sadras, Puduceri, Naur, Nagapatnam, Tutucuri, Manapar, Coleci, and other places on the coasts of Malabar and Ciòlamandala; coarse stuffs and woollen cloth from Arabia; gold and silver from Bengal; horns of the rhinoceros, from which are made rings wore on the fingers; Indian tyger skins; crucifixes, small figures, and other toys of ivory from Goa; rose-water from Persia, and wine from the Cape of Good Hope. Among these articles I have not included those brought from Europe and America to be sold in India. Were I to give the prices of all these articles, and to relate in what manner they are bartered and sold, I should be obliged to write a whole volume. The slaves are treated exactly like cattle. A youth in full health and without blemish costs, according to his age and make, twenty, thirty, or forty rupees. The females are sold cheaper. An ass from Mascate costs two or three scudi, and an Arabian horse from thirty to fifty.
A Persian mile, Angatsch, contains 16,878 Roman feet. The Indian mile, Casam or Cas (not Cosse) is different in different places: in general it consists of 2400 geometrical paces. The large Malabar mile is equal to from two to three leagues; the smaller, however, is equal only to one. The same difference is observed in the miles in other provinces of India. The smaller Indian mile has three divisions: viz. Casara vagi, three quarters of a mile; Aracasam, half a mile; and Cuvida, or Vilipada, a distance at which one can hear the voice of a man calling out as loud as he is able. This distance is commonly reckoned to be equal to a quarter of a mile.
The coins current in India consist of the following:
I. The Rupee of Bengal, Arrucate, Puduceri, Madras, Bombay, Tippoo Sultan, or Hayder Aly Khan, and Surat. Rupya is properly a Samscred word, and signifies in general silver, without distinguishing any particular denomination of silver coin. I am therefore inclined to think, that the rupees current in India, which are worth five Roman Paoli, were not originally Indian coins. This piece of silver has inscribed on it, in Persian characters, the place where and the name of the prince under whom coined; which confirms me in my opinion, that it belongs properly to the inventions of the Persians. The oldest Indian coins have no inscription, but only the representation of a cow, an elephant, the lingam, or some Indian deity. Anquetil du Perron, however, asserts that he saw some with writing on them, which, as he pretends, were coined before the period of king Vitramàditya[51]; but I never had an opportunity of seeing any of this kind. A rupee is not worth more in Europe than two livres eight sous, or, according to the Roman method of reckoning, four Paoli and eight Bajocchi.
II. The silver Fanon, called by the Indians Panam, is a small round coin like the rupee. The rupee of Arrucate is equal to six large or twelve small Panam; that of Puduceri, to eight Panam. When rupees of Surat, Puduceri, and Arrucate are exchanged at Cochin, you receive for each, according to the course of exchange, only twenty or at most twenty-four Panam, though they are worth thirty-two Cochinese Panam. The rupee of Madras is worth in Bengal 3040 Cauris.
The Dudu of Madras or Bombay, a small coin of copper, tin, or other metal, according to the nature of the country, is equal in value to a Roman Bajocco.
The Cochinese Panam, a very small round coin, made of tin or lead, which has on one side a horn, is called Ciangupanam, the horn-fanon. This horn represents the arms of the king of Cochin. Six Cochinese Cembu Casha, a copper coin bearing the stamp of the Dutch East India Company, are equal to one Cochinese Panam. There are also small coins of tin called Jyacàsha. The silver Ciacram, a small coin of the king of Travancor, is equal to the twenty-sixth part of a rupee. The Spanish Piastre, or Roman Scudi, is worth in India two rupees. The Dutch Rupee, current in the island of Ceylon, consists of silver alloyed with tin.
A kind of small shells, brought from the Maldivan islands, and to which the French give the name of Pucellage, are current in Bengal. These shells are called by the Indians Cori or Cauri, and 350 of them make a rupee. A Cauri is the sixtieth part of a Pesha, a Bengal coin equal in value to six French deniers. In Ethiopia small laminæ of salt, about a foot in length, are used instead of money. Ten of these laminæ are equal in value to a drachm of gold. The king of Candy has introduced in the island of Ceylon a kind of money, which consists of a piece of silver wire rolled up like a wax taper. When a person wishes to make a purchase, he cuts off as much of this silver wire as is equal in value to the price of the article. The relative value of gold and silver in India is as ten or eleven to one. The proportion, however, does not always continue the same. When a great number of Venetian sequins are brought to India from Egypt or Arabia, through the Red Sea, the value of them, or rather the course of exchange, falls on the coast of Malabar, and they are worth no more than three and three-fourths or at most four rupees; but if there be a scarcity of them, their value rises, and they become worth four rupees and a quarter. The case is the same with Spanish piastres, which are sometimes worth two rupees, and sometimes two and a quarter. This happens in order that there may be an equilibrium between gold and silver in the different places of trade; but at the same time it may arise from necessity, when there is a scarcity of gold and silver coin. It is also not unfrequently owing to the fraudulent arts of some governor, in conjunction with the bankers, who devise that scheme to answer their own private purposes. As the gold and silver exchanged by the Indians and the Chinese is exceedingly pure, they gain considerably by the exchange, as they can raise the course of it at pleasure, which cannot be done in regard to coin of small value. There is no proportion, however, in the influx and efflux of money among the Indians and foreigners. The Indians sell a great deal and purchase little, consequently the balance is always in their favour. Little luxury and few wants render the inhabitants of a country opulent.
III. The Bhagavadi, a gold coin with the figure of the goddess Bhagavadi, called by the Europeans very improperly Pagodi or Pagoda, is round, and on one side a little convex. The so called star pagoda of Madraspatnam, the reverse of which bears the impression of an Indian idol, is worth, according to the Roman method of reckoning, seventeen Paoli[52] and eight Bajocchi. The gold pagoda of Hayder Aly Khan, called Aydernaik, and that of Mangalor, are worth four silver rupees, or nine livres twelve sous. The latter have on one side a half moon, and on the other two idols who hold a trident. They represent Shiva, together with his wife Parvadi. The gold pagoda of Portonovo is worth three silver rupees.
The gold Panam of Palicate is equal in value to nine French sous; that of Calcutta and Tanjaur, to one quarter of a silver rupee, or twelve and a half Bajocchi. The gold Panam of Madura is worth seven sous, or seven Roman Bajocchi and six French deniers.
The gold rupee of Bengal, Surat and Bombay, is worth sixteen silver rupees, or eight Roman scudi.
The Golmor of Bengal, a gold coin ornamented on one side with flowers and Hindostan characters, and on the other with a sword and some characters, is equal in value to eight Roman Scudi. This coin came originally from Nepal in India; for it bears the arms of the king of that place.
The Kalien from Travancor is worth the fourth part of a silver rupee.
The Uilkàshya, or Venetian sequin, is worth, in common, about four silver rupees.—All these coins are struck with the hammer. On those which are alloyed, that is, which have a mixture of other metals, the government gains nearly a hundred per cent. Thus, if a thousand rupees are melted down in order to be converted into other alloyed coins, such for example as Panams, five hundred rupees only, according to their intrinsic value, come into circulation: the other five hundred go to government, to defray the expence of coinage; and if any thing remains over, it is clear gain. This method of adulterating gold and silver was first introduced into these countries by the Europeans. The natives of India always suffered their gold and silver to remain pure; never added to it the least alloy; and to this day they observe the same practice. This is the true method of increasing the opulence of a country, whatever short sighted politicians may say to the contrary. Bills of exchange are totally unknown in India. When money-changers conclude any bargain with each other, it is ratified by an oath before the door of some temple, and in view of the idol; and in such cases they seldom or never deduct any thing from the payment[53].
Having finished my business at Madraspatnam, I continued my journey with as much expedition as possible, for the whole colony was in the utmost confusion. Mohamed Aly Khan had under various pretences, as already mentioned, taken possession of the city and kingdom of Tanjaur, on the 17th of September 1773. Lord Pigot, however, by the express command of the court of London, restored to the throne Tullasuragia, the lawful sovereign, in the month of April 1776, amidst the thunder of cannon and the acclamations of an immense concourse of people; but he and that prince became the sacrifices of this measure, as wise as it was just, and Mohamed Aly Khan again made himself master of the kingdom. The fortress of Arrucate, from which he takes the title of Nabob, lies west from Madraspatnam on the river Paler or Palarru, in the latitude of 13° North.
On my return to Maïlapuri I resolved to visit the small mountain in that district on which the apostle St. Thomas suffered martyrdom. I placed myself, therefore, in my Dooly, and after two hours arrived at the bottom of this steep hill. It consists of several rocks, which altogether form only one group. Having clambered up to the top, not without considerable difficulty, I came to a small church, formed according to the modern plan, but, like many ancient Indian temples, of which I shall speak hereafter, hewn out in the solid rock. In an adjacent apartment I found an English Catholic, who resided there from devotion. The surrounding district abounds with coco-nut trees, and a number of beautiful houses belonging to the English, who retire hither to enjoy the pleasures of a rural life. Below these trees several cotton-weavers and spinners had erected their low hovels of the leaves and branches of the palm-tree plaited through each other; and I here had an opportunity of seeing every thing that belongs to a cotton manufactory. All the Indians, Christians as well as Pagans, unanimously assured me, that this was really the mountain on which the apostle Thomas (not that Thomas who was a disciple of Manes, and who is entirely unknown to them,) had been martyred. The Christians who reside on the coast of Malabar, and even the Christians of St. Thomas, though Nestorians, make many pilgrimages to the grave of this apostle, and, through religious zeal, carry home with them small bits of earth which they pick up near it, and which they afterwards use for preparing their holy water. This has been done since the earliest periods, not by a few, but by many thousands; so that the question whether St. Thomas actually lost his life on this mountain, cannot any longer be a subject of the smallest doubt. The event took place under the government of the Indian king Salivahan or Salbahan, who, according to the Indian tradition, died in the sixty-eighth year of the Christian æra. On Mont Grand, also, there is a church, much frequented by pilgrims, and where the Catholics from Bengal, Pegu, Siam, Ceylon, Malabar, and every part of Hindustan, as well as the Nestorian and Armenian Jacobites, perform their devotions. Even Pagans and Mahometans resort thither, and carry with them, as offerings, butter, milk, cheese, candles, oil, goats, and cows. In a word, every person in India is convinced that this was actually the place where St. Thomas suffered martyrdom[54].
In the interior part of the provinces of Carnate and Madura, where the Indians, under the protection of their kings, enjoy more extensive religious liberty, the custom of widows burning themselves, three days after the death of their husbands, still prevails, though it is less common than formerly. This horrid scene I never had an opportunity of witnessing myself; but I am able to confirm the accounts given of it by other travellers, and to add a few particulars which may serve to throw more light upon them. Immediately after the death of the husband, the widow rubs her whole body over, as far as the girdle, with a kind of Indian saffron called Magnel. This saffron is a symbol of fire, which the Indians honour as a deity. The widow then goes about through the streets, and with the greatest politeness takes leave of all those whom she meets. Three days after, a round or a square hole is dug in the open fields, which is filled with a large quantity of dry wood and cow-dung placed above each other. The latter is dedicated to the goddess Lakshmi, who represents the earth under the symbol of a cow. Some also pour coco-nut oil over the funeral pile, in order that it may be sooner consumed by the flames. When every thing is completely ready, the widow proceeds from her habitation, clothed in white, crowned with flowers, and ornamented with all her trinkets and jewels. She is accompanied by a numerous train of women and her nearest relations, who, as I have been assured, give her opium, and certain kinds of acids, by which she is stupified and prepared for contempt of death. As soon as she approaches the burning pile, before which a carpet is suspended, she throws some butter and Magnel, or Indian saffron, into the fire; but over the carpet, which it is unlawful for her to touch. This is a libation or offering which she brings to the fire as a divinity. She then retires to the distance of about forty steps from the pile, and divides her trinkets among her relations and acquaintances. A confused noise is heard of drums, fifes, and basons beat upon with sticks; the hanging is removed; the widow advances with courage and coolness towards the burning pile, throws herself into the flames, and in a few minutes is converted into ashes. According to the doctrine of the Brahmans, her soul passes immediately into the glory of Vishnu and Shiva, and her name is preserved, to the latest ages, in the annals of her country[55].
We are told by Diodorus Siculus, in the nineteenth book of his history, that there was once a time when the Indian women were accustomed to desert their husbands in the most capricious manner, and when they would not hesitate to dispatch them by poison. It is not improbable that, to put a stop to these practices, a law was introduced that widows should burn themselves along with the bodies of their husbands. Plutarch, however, is of opinion, that they did so as a proof of their purity of conduct and conjugal fidelity. But, be that as it may, it is certain that the origin of this singular custom is to be sought for in principles of religion and policy. When a woman is fully convinced that the death of her husband must occasion her own at the same time, she will be more anxious for his preservation. A woman who has children, or who is under certain other circumstances, is not permitted to burn herself; and this is a sign that she loved her husband, and that she may still enjoy the society of the male sex. Widows who refuse to die with their husbands are considered afterwards as disgraced, and must devote themselves, as public prostitutes, to the service of some deity who favours prostitution. Such for example is the goddess Bhavani, or the Venus of the Indians. All Indian widows, however, do not burn themselves with the bodies of their husbands, but those only who belong to the cast of Kshetria and Rajahputra. These are the casts of royal personages and warriors, who have most to fear from the infidelity of their wives. When a king, therefore, dies in India, all his wives and concubines must mount the funeral pile, in order to shew that they had no hand in his death. There are, nevertheless, widows belonging to the cast of the Vaishya or farmers, who also burn themselves in the like manner.
From Pondamala, that is, Mont Grand, I proceeded to Covalàm, where I had the pleasure of conversing with Father John Maria a Santo Thoma, upon different philological subjects. To this learned man, who had resided twenty-five years in India, I am indebted for various corrections in different parts of my journal, which I employed as my guide in the present work. Gladly would I have remained some time longer with this worthy man; but, to my great regret, I was obliged to leave him after a stay of fourteen days. I now pursued my way back to Puduceri, but by a different route, in order that I might see the seven pagodas which are situated on the seacoast between Covalàm and Sadras. But how shall I describe this master-piece of ancient Indian architecture? It consists of seven temples, cut out by art in a rock of the hardest stone, in a mountain covered with trees. Never in my life did I behold a work of the like kind. The entrance fronts the sea, from which it is not far distant, and consists of a passage cut out in the solid rock, forming part of the summit of the mountain. The sides of this passage, which is about twenty Roman palms in breadth, and fifteen in height, is covered with the figures of different sacred animals cut out, of their natural size. Here I saw the elephant of Rama and Gannesha; the tortoise of Vishnu; the ape of Rama; the wild sow, into which Vishnu metamorphosed himself; the cow of the goddess Parvadi and Lakshmi; the fish, as a symbol of water; the snake, as the symbol of life and death; and other animals, the names of which I do not at present remember[56]. The external appearance of the walls of this temple, which were totally black, clearly shews that it is no modern work, and that several centuries must have been necessary, in such a pure, serene, dry and mild climate as that of India, to cover the surface of them, as well as the sculptured figures, with a black crust. Having got to the end of the above-mentioned passage, you arrive at a final round place in the same rock, where you observe on the left a few stone steps, and on the right two passages hewn out also in the rock, each of which appeared to me to be seven palms in breadth and twelve in height. These steps and passages conduct to the temple itself, which consists of large vaulted apartments or grottos, separated from each other by walls cut out of the solid rock, but in such a manner that you can go from the one into the other. The largest are below, and the smaller above. They are all cut out in the rock, and are supported by pillars of the same. Around the walls stand a great number of very large statues, representing heathen deities, formed of stone masses, which have been also cut from the rock. Among these I observed, of Colossal size, the gods Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, Rama, Krishna, Devendra, Kartiguna, and Gannesha; also the goddesses Parvadi, Sarasvadi, and Lakshmi; and the various figures into which Vishnu transformed himself while he remained on earth. When I visited this place, I was attended by five Brahmans, who all spoke Portuguese, and gave me an explanation of every thing I saw. The information I received from them I immediately wrote down, and paid them five rupees for their trouble. In the seventh and tenth chapter of the second book I shall give a farther account of this temple[57].
At the bottom of the mountain, not far from the above-mentioned temple, is a sacred pond, in which, since the earliest ages, all those who visit the temple have been accustomed to wash themselves. Near it stands a tree, with a thick shady top, which is surrounded by a low stone wall. The internal space is filled with earth, which is well watered; and by these means the tree is supplied with nourishment. In the Tamulic language it is called Arasu; in that of Malabar, Arayal or Arashu; and in corrupted Portuguese, Pimpolu. If the bark of this tree be bruised, it yields a juice which is an excellent remedy for schirrous tumours in the liver and diseases of the spleen. This juice taken inwardly, to the quantity of two ounces, stops spitting of blood; and, used as an ointment, it cures the itch. The dried fruit of the tree pulverised, and taken in water for fourteen days, removes asthmatic complaints; and it is said also that it promotes fruitfulness in women. This Arashu tree is held in great veneration by the Indians, chiefly because it represents the deities Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, who are supposed to reside in it. On this account a white cloth, intended as a representation of the robe or covering of these deities, is suspended round its trunk on certain days of solemnity.
On the 16th of October 1776 I proceeded from Maïlapuri to Sadras, where I passed the night. The weather at that time was more tempestuous than I had ever seen it on the coast of Coromandel; because, as I have already observed, the winter commences there about the 20th of October. The rain then pours down in torrents; the rivers and streams precipitate themselves from the Gauts with prodigious noise, inundate the highways, and swell up to such a degree that they overflow their banks, sweep away houses, trees, men and animals, and carry them along with them into the sea. This was exactly the case on the 17th of October, in the morning, when I arrived at the river Paler or Palarru, which discharges itself into the sea on the south of Madras. It was nearly half a mile in breadth, and flowed along with the utmost violence and impetuosity. All the travellers from Sadras were obliged to stop here, because there were no boats to carry them over; and even if there had been any, it was much to be apprehended that they would be driven out to sea by the force of the stream. Besides others, there was an English gentleman from Madras who intended to go to Gudelur; but when he saw the great number of people stopped by the river, and how dangerous it would be to attempt to pass it, he caused himself to be immediately carried back in his palanquin to Sadras. I was extremely curious to see how the Indians would proceed in order to get over. There were about a hundred of us who all wished to cross the river; and I thought that if others effected a passage I might do the same. The Indians pulled off all their clothes, kneeled down on the sand, and raised their eyes and hands towards heaven. Under such circumstances mankind are taught to reverence the supreme Being; for, in cases of life or death, even an atheist or materialist can hardly remain indifferent. After offering up a prayer, some of the best swimmers threw themselves into the stream, while the remaining part of the company stood gazing with anxious expectation to see whether they would succeed in getting over. In less than half an hour these intrepid swimmers had reached the opposite shore. When my Coolies saw this, they stripped in the like manner, and having sought out two pieces of wood, bound them fast together, and putting my Dooly upon them, pushed it into the water. They then desired me to place myself in the Dooly; to draw up my feet, and to hold fast with both my hands. I was so terrified at this proposal, that my heart began to palpitate. They, however, repeated it; and as I clearly saw that it would be impossible to get over in any other manner, I promised my Coolies a rupee; contracted myself in my Dooly as much as I could; held fast by the pole, and, rather dead than alive, sat as it were in the water, which every now and then forced itself in around me. The Coolies began to swim, and from time to time gave the Dooly a smart push, in order that it might advance also: Four of them swam on the right side, and four on the left; all taking care that it should not deviate from its proper direction. When we reached the middle of the river, where the force and velocity of the stream were greatest, they began all together to push and exert themselves, bawling out as loud as they could. My Dooly now seemed to dance with me on the waves, which tossed us up and down; but by incessant labour and exertion I was pushed to the shore without any misfortune. I then gave my Coolies the rupee I had promised them; changed my clothes, and continued my journey to Puduceri[58].
I found there Father Medardus, a Capuchin missionary from Madraspatnam, who intended to proceed to Surat in the Portuguese vessel the captain of which had promised to give me a passage. I was extremely happy to have such a worthy man for the companion of my voyage; but unfortunately my joy was soon embittered by a very melancholy accident. The ship Nossa Senhora de Luz was to sail on the 22d of October; for this is the fixed time when all vessels leave Puduceri, because if they remain they must be exposed to the attack of most tremendous storms, as the winter then sets in on the coast of Coromandel. In order that our departure might not be delayed, we got every thing ready to go on board on the 21st, at a time when there was a very hollow sea. In that neighbourhood the waves are sometimes so furious that they tear up trees on the shore, and hurry them along with them into the harbour of Puduceri: we employed therefore a shilinga to convey us to the ship. Besides such articles as were necessary for my voyage, I carried with me a small packet containing two thousand scudi sent from Rome for the missionary establishment on the coast of Malabar, and which was entrusted to my care. When Father Medardus, who was fond of a joke, saw this packet, he observed that I had done a very imprudent thing in taking it with me, as the Capuchins generally experienced some misfortune when they carried money with them. “And as that is the case,” said he, “I would rather dispense with your company and pursue my voyage alone.” We rallied each other on this subject, and got on board about five in the afternoon. The crew, who seemed to be expert seamen, avoided with great dexterity the first wave that dashed itself against the mast: but the sea raged with the utmost fury; and as these people were obliged to row in an opposite direction, their strength was soon exhausted. We, however, got over the second billow, after great labour and exertion; but the third and most dangerous beat with such impetuosity against our shilinga, that it was thrown on its end, and stood almost in a perpendicular direction. Just as this happened we were all in the forepart of the vessel. Every thing in the shilinga, therefore, rolled over us; the waves forced themselves into it, and we were surrounded by chests, casks, and bales all in confusion, so that we could not stir. As if struck by lightning we stood pale and motionless, staring at each other, without being able to utter a single word. Our rowers, who had been thrown into the sea, clung to their oars, or endeavoured by swimming to overcome the waves, while we almost gave ourselves up as lost. The third wave at length disappeared; our shilinga again recovered its proper position; our rowers got back to their places; and being all gradually freed from our terror, we returned thanks to God for having rescued us from the jaws of death. This dreadful accident, however, had made such an impression upon me, that I was seized with a violent fever, which lasted ten days; and for some time after I could never hear people relate any danger of the like kind without being ready to faint. This weakness continued almost three years; and I was not able to get rid of it but by using bark and the cold bath. The worthy Father Medardus died some months after this event at Surat. So dear did my missionary expedition cost me! I had wandered all over Italy, Portugal, England and France, and travelled more than a thousand leagues by water before I arrived on the coast of Malabar. On the 23d of October, early in the morning, we left the road of Puduceri; and after passing the island of Ceylon, and doubling Cape Comari, came to anchor on the 14th of November at Cochin, on the Malabar coast, which Providence had assigned me as the theatre of my missionary labours.