a collection of coloured lithographed drawings

This plate represents the most important of the many ceremonies that take place at the celebration of Brahman caste marriages. The bride and groom and their parents are gathered under a Pandel (*) which has been previously purified. The domestic priest, recognizable by his cap similar to that of the preaching Pourohita described above, surrounds the fire in a new earthen stove with Darbha grass(**).

The priest then makes an offering to the fire (Homa), i.e. throws a few grains of rice sprinkled with melted butter into the stove, while uttering the prayers known as Mantras. Next to the Pourohita is a piece of silk used to hide the sight of the bride and groom from those present during the preparatory ceremony of invoking the gods.

The bride and groom, seated on a rich carpet with their faces turned towards the east, have just offered each other betel leaves; they each hold their right hand over the fire, witness to their oaths, while married women bless their union by sprinkling grains of rice rolled in saffron and vermilion over their heads.

In the middle of the pavilion, a bamboo tree is planted, to which two stalks of Darbha and betel are attached. A greater or lesser number of Brahmins preside over this ceremony, identifiable by the cord they wear on their left shoulder.

One of them holds in his hand something that appears to be betel, or the Sandal stone, which is placed by the fire, and around which the bride and groom must walk, thinking of the northern mountain from which the Brahmins draw their inspiration. Between the second and third groups of attendants are placed various offerings previously made to the household gods, to invite them to the ceremony. Rice is poured into a metal dish; a small vase contains clarified butter for seasoning the rice; another, a mixture of sugar, honey and milk, sometimes called “excellent food” (Param annam).

Finally, several areca nuts are placed on betel leaves, which are then distributed to those present.

(*) This word, in Tamil, means “trellis under which to take shade”.

‘Pandal’ is the name given to a pavilion of greenery raised with great pomp in the courtyard or in front of the front door of the house, and usually supported by twelve wooden pillars.

(**) Poa cynosuroides – Darbha grass has always been considered by Hindus as the most suitable substance for purification.

Hindus have preserved to this day some of the treatises on astronomy which they say were once revealed to their ancestors. Several of these works, written in Sanskrit, have even been translated into the modern languages of India, and a highly respected class of Brahmins is devoted to their study. The Brahmins of the Coromandel coast, for example, possess the famous Tirvalor tables, brought to France by Le Gentil. But the religious system of the Hindus, which orders them to believe that the whole of human knowledge is contained in their sacred books, denies them the right (if they had the desire) to increase the number of observations, often profound, that they hold from their ancestors.

Today, the most skilful astronomers are content to seek to understand the work of their predecessors, and very few go beyond the calculation of eclipses, the elements of which they find in astronomical tables of great renown. The greater number apply themselves exclusively to the study of judicial astrology, which in modern India, still ancient in so many respects, is not always distinct from astronomy. In their eyes, the one is merely the practical application of the other; and the study of the laws governing the movements of celestial bodies would seem sterile and meaningless to them, if man were not to find in them the rule of his actions and, as it were, the plan of his life. This prejudice, which fades in the light of the exact sciences, still persists among Hindus in all its force, and it is to it that the Brahman astrologers owe their immense influence.

The astronomer (on Plate IV) is busy calculating an eclipse. His left hand holds tablets made of palm leaves, still green. The three lines on his forehead and chest indicate that he belongs to the Shiva sect. His wife, holding a child to her breast, appears to be awaiting the result of her calculations.

The method followed for centuries by Hindu schoolmasters is remarkable for its striking resemblance to that of Lancaster. The Brahman, seated in front of the door of his house, traces the letters of the alphabet on the sand, using a stick which also serves as a ferrule; arranged opposite him on mats or buckskins, the pupils have their eyes fixed on the master’s drawing.

The master pronounces a letter; the child closest to him repeats it, and after him, each of his classmates; the process continues until the alphabet is exhausted. When all the children can read, the teacher places in their hands books made of palm leaves – long, narrow, usually dry, and joined by a string that runs through the middle or one end. These leaves are written on with an awl; then, to make the lines more visible, a black substance of some kind is passed over the written part, with small particles remaining in the hollows made by the awl.

Between the Brahman and his pupils is a book of the kind we have just described. The leaves are clamped between two boards held together by a rope. On the sand are traces of the Tamil alphabet. To the left of the master is the vase called Chembou (*), containing water for his use, and the instrument he uses to smoke, in Tamil, Chounkân. It consists of a coconut, into which a long pipe is plunged, flared at the top to hold the tobacco. To use the Chounkân, a betel leaf is rolled into the coconut at the lower end of the long pipe, to cool the smoke; then the coconut is brought close to the mouth, grasped by a very short tube fitted laterally.

Mr. Géringer was an eyewitness to the scene depicted in this plate.

(*) Chembou, in Tamil, properly means red copper, then, by extension, the vase made of this metal used today by Brahmins, and which replaces the earthen or wooden vase called Kamandalou in Sanskrit texts.

Medicine, like all the other sciences, is considered in India to have been revealed by Brahma, and the oldest work to teach its precepts, the Ayurveda, is part of the fourth sacred book. This art, which the Hindus believe originated in the heavens, is, they say, practiced by the twin sons of the Sun, who occupy the same rank in the Indian pantheon as Castor and Pollux in that of the Greeks.

But the esteem in which they are held cannot, for us, be the measure of their real merit. The religious law which declares impure any man who touches a ca-davre has, to this day, halted the progress of medicine in India. It is so severe that the current Râdja of Tandjor, (Raja of Tanjore) one of the most enlightened princes of the Hindostan, in order to reconcile the scruples of his conscience with the desire to know the structure of the human body, could find no other way than to bring an ivory skeleton from England. Condemned to almost complete ignorance about the causes of many illnesses, Hindus attribute them to the malignant influences of demons. Ayourveda, which admits the existence of possessions and evil spells, also teaches magical means of repairing the disorders they have produced. To these marvellous procedures, they added the use of medicines extracted from the varied plants produced by the fertile soil of India; and it must undoubtedly be recognized that their attention, long since directed towards the study of plants and their properties, enabled them to gather some valuable observations on this subject.

Physicians, although numbered among the Brahmins, did not originally belong to the first caste. The code of Manou (Manu), which says they are the sons of a Brahman and a Vaishya woman (third caste), declares them to be Shoúdras (fourth caste). As the lowliness of their birth forbids them to read the sacred books, holy figures (the most famous of whom on the Coromandel coast is called Agastiger) have composed treatises for them, which are usually no more than commentaries on the Ayourveda.

Shepherds, known throughout most of India as Goala (an alteration of the Sanskrit Gopâla), live in small villages on the edge of woods or uncultivated plains, where they graze their flocks. Each family, regardless of the number of members, pays the government a fixed, uniform rent for the right to graze on state land. This very low tax is collected by the chief of the caste, who resides in the main town of the district. Goalas abstain from all spirituous liquors, as well as fish and swine; but they may eat mutton, goat and fallow deer. They follow the cult of Vishnu; however, the priests who officiate in their temples and religious ceremonies do not belong to the Brahman caste: they are simple Goalas whose employment is hereditary. But since the incarnation of Vishnu in Krichna, who spent his youth among the shepherds, they have become more generally esteemed. However, the Brahmins do not even grant them the title of descendants of the Shoúdras, to which they aspire.

When the pastures surrounding the Goalas’ huts are no longer abundant enough, the herds are driven into the forests, often over considerable distances. The shepherds, wrapped in a coarse woollen cloak, spend the night among their oxen and dogs, and defend themselves from tiger attacks by lighting large fires. It is the men, not the women, who milk the cows. The milk is carried to the hut, and from there to the villages where it is sold, in large pots covered with a few leaves that prevent the liquor from becoming agitated. The Goalas always run carrying their burden.

Nothing could be simpler than the way the Hindus weave these fine, much-admired cotton fabrics. First, they prepare the warp by stretching the threads over small pieces of wood fixed in the ground a short distance apart, and arranging them so that they pass alternately over and under each of the sticks. The weaver uses a bamboo stick to direct and space them. When he has thus arranged the number of threads proportionate to the width he wishes to give his canvas, he mounts the warp on what, for the sake of clarity, we’ll call his loom, i.e. on two blocks of stone, one of which serves as his seat, or more often even on bare earth, in which he digs a pit deep enough to accommodate his legs. He then removes the sticks from the warp, and in their place inserts two thin rollers, the ends of which are supported by two ropes attached to a branch of the tree in whose shelter the weaver has taken care to place himself. From his feet, two other ropes join the rollers, enabling him to lower them alternately, thus separating the warp and passing the weft through. When the threads are very fine, they are wetted with rice water, called Cange, to give them strength; sometimes the warp is even held underwater, lest it break during the work.

The weaver caste, called Kaikkolen, is not highly esteemed; it occupies seventh place in the great division called The Right Hand.

Plate V shows a weaver preparing the warp, his wife spinning, and, in the background, the warp mounted and the loom suspended from a tree branch.

Canvas painters belong to several castes, including the Vellâler, Pallis and Moutchis. A crudely made bamboo brush, two or three shards into which they grind their colors, and a vial of grease or oil are the instruments and materials they use. Sitting on the floor, they stretch their fabric on a stretcher, and trace on it with a brush the designs they have been given. The fabric is then immersed in water, an operation designed to fix the colors, which are now unalterable; the strongest are red, blue and green. The Moutchis also paint statues of the gods, or make copies of them on canvas and paper, which are highly esteemed by Hindus.

The Moutchis are also tanners and shoemakers. The habitual contact with leather, one of the most impure materials in the eyes of a Hindu, is the cause of the contempt held for them by the higher castes. Indeed, although they wear the Brahman cordon, and as such claim to be descended from the Shoúdras, the latter would blush to admit them to their meals. Moutchis eat nothing that has had life, and usually abstain from intoxicating liquors.

Plate VI shows a Moutchi tanner and a Moutchi painter.

On the Coromandel coast, Kattamaram rafts are made of three or four tree trunks, seven to twenty feet long, tied together with ropes made from coconut husks. The largest have a sail and are ridden by several men; the smallest, which are frequently used, carry only one sailor, whose body is naked and whose head alone is covered by a cone-shaped reed cap. They are used to reconnoiter ships arriving in sight of the coast, and above all to carry dispatches, often over considerable distances. During the violent north-east monsoon of 1795, General Stuart, who commanded the English forces in Ceylon, used them to establish regular communication between the island and the mainland; it is even reported that one of these small rafts made the crossing from Nagapatnam to Trinquemalé, i.e. around one hundred and fifty miles, in thirty hours. When a Hindu has to make such a long journey, he carries a supply of cooked rice seasoned with pepper, and fresh coconuts to quench his thirst. He places his letters in his reed bonnet, which he ties under his neck. In calm weather, sitting on his raft, he steers it with his legs. When the waves are high, standing on the Kattamaram, he follows its every movement, and if it is knocked over, he soon swims back to it. It is these sailors, almost all of them Hindus by race, who, during the pearl-fishing season on the Mannâr bank, are employed to collect shellfish. They dive to a depth of four or five fathoms, but rarely can they repeat this tiring operation more than eight or nine times a day.

Our plate depicts two Kattamarams crossing the bar to reconnoiter a vessel saluting the city of Pondicherry, and a Hindu-built boat called Chelingue. The planks are sewn together like pieces of cloth, and the days they leave are filled with stuffing. Thanks to their suppleness and lightness, these boats escape the violence of the waves, which would infallibly break them if they offered more resistance.

Carpenters belong to the Pantchâlas caste, and as such wear the Brahman cord; they occupy the second rank in the Left Hand faction.

The tools they use are the axe, saw, chisel and plane.

But these tools are so crudely made that a European could never use them. A courtyard serves as their workshop, and the ground as their workbench; their feet are the only means of resistance they know how to oppose the efforts of their arms. However, the influence of the English has already led them to modify some of their ancient methods. On the coasts and in the provinces close to the center of British power, they use English-made tools, and know perfectly well how to imitate the European works given to them as models.

As in other castes, the women take care of the household and go to the bazaars to sell small chests made of native wood. The woman pictured here holds a betel leaf in her mouth.

The Tamil word Tatchen comes from the Pali Tatchtchhaka, which in turn derives from the Sanskrit ‘Trachtá’ –carpenter.

Most masons belong to the Pantchâlas caste. Their tools are simple and few in number. They make less frequent use of stone than of a very hard brick, which potters sell them at low prices. They use a cement composed of sifted sand and lime made from the shells washed ashore by the sea, where women and children collect them every morning.

On the Coromandel coast, and especially in Pondicherry, houses and public buildings are covered in their entirety with a plaster whose polish and shine equal the finest white marble. It’s a mixture of lime and eggshells ground to a powder and mixed with milk. To this is added a certain quantity of thick, viscous molasses extracted from the jaquier (jackfruit) tree. This coating, which is very easy to apply, acquires extreme hardness as it dries, and resists the effects of air for several years. It is used both to embellish the elegant colonnades that decorate European palaces, and to clad the simpler dwellings inhabited by the Hindu population.

The masons’ wives pound the mortar in troughs dug into the ground, three or four feet long and one foot wide. They are paid between four and six cents of our currency per day. They accompany themselves with a monotonous chant, which they patiently repeat for as long as the work lasts. The dirtiness of their clothes, and the messiness of their hair, covered with lime, give these women a repulsive appearance that those of the other castes mentioned so far do not have.

The potters on the Coromandel coast almost all belong to the Shiva sect, and wear the Lingam. They don’t fit into any of the Right Hand or Left Hand divisions. They make all earthen vessels, from the large jars in which milk is transported, to the very porous clay pots, called Gargoulettes by Europeans, which are used to refresh water. They bake bricks and tiles, and fashion statues of Indian divinities, which, after being consecrated and worshipped for several days, are, at certain times of the year, thrown into ponds or rivers. They also build these colossal statues of Bhoûta, elephants and horses, which can be seen on the plains, and which the Hindus regard as the protective deities of the fields.

The wheel, which they have used since ancient times, is made of wood and placed horizontally on a pivot firmly fixed in the ground. The center of the wheel is wide enough to support a considerable mass of clay. Potters set it in motion by means of a stick, and while it rotates with the greatest speed, they shape the clay with no help other than their hands.

They excel at making huge, extremely light vases, but they know nothing of glazing or enameling. Their wives go to the bazaar to sell the products of their husbands’ labor; they gather together up to seven or eight pots by tying them together at the neck, and carry them on their heads without ever breaking a single one, no matter how fast they run. The chiefs of this caste pay a tax to the government for the clay used by the community. In many Coromandel villages, the potter must supply the farmers with the vases they need throughout the year, and is paid in agricultural produce after the harvest.

Potters have the privilege of curing strains and bruises; for this purpose, they use a few simple remedies, the knowledge of which is hereditary in their caste. 

This plate shows Chaudrie de Syali, a village located on one of the branches of the Caveri, not far from the sea, a few miles north-west of Tranquebar.

This is where travellers stop on their way from the latter town to Pondicherry.

This building, whose date is not ancient, was built at the expense of a Hindu who, during a long illness, had vowed to build a Chaudrie in a solitary spot. It consists of a vast inner hall divided into two parts, from north to south, and two galleries on the east and west sides, under which travelers can rest without distinction of caste or sect. In front of the Chaudrie is a pond, from the banks of which was taken the view reproduced on our plate. Hyenas and tigers are common in this part of the route; their lair is a short distance from la Chaudrie in the ruins of an old fort, which the English demolished during their last wars with the French on the Coromandel coast.

The palanquin bearers on the Coromandel coast, as in most of southern India, are mostly Telingas of Kavarai caste. They are considered to belong to one of the last subdivisions of the Shoúdras tribe. They are subject to hereditary chiefs who administer justice to members of the caste, and regulate the time of their service; it is to these chiefs that people go to hire porters. The usual number in towns is five; on long journeys, twelve are hired, plus a man carrying a torch and a jug of oil to light the way at night. The wage for each porter is one three-quarter pennant to two pennants a day, about ten cents of our currency. These sober, robust men run with their load, often taking only fifteen hours to go from Madras to Pondicherry, i.e. about thirty-three leagues; but then one or two relays must be placed along the way.

Telinga porters are called Boué by Europeans, an alteration of the English word Boy. They are also fishermen, and when the palanquin is stopped, they are busy making nets. Less rigid than the first castes of the Shoúdras, they can eat anything that has had life; but they would be expelled from the community if they drank intoxicating liquors. They belong to the Vichnu sect and wear the Nâmam sign.

The palanquin, a word probably derived from the Sanskrit Palyanka, or from the Tamil Pallakkou (*), is a long, low litter in which one sits.

It is lined with cushions and crossed by a long bamboo, at both ends of which the bearers sit. The shape of palanquins varies according to the wealth – and dignity – of the masters. There is one, called Tandiyel in Tamil, which only the noblest castes have the right to use. The rudimentary form of the Hindu palanquin can be seen in the Paleagar plate; the one pictured here obviously bears the imprint of European taste.

(*) Tamil Pallakkou, Pâli Pallanka and Hindustani Pâlki appear to be mere alterations of Sanskrit Palyanka.

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