The temple of Subramania at Palni in the Madura district is a favourite objective for Tiyan pilgrims. The subject of pilgrimages to this temple has been touched on in my note on the Nāyars (see Nāyar). The Bhagavati temple at Kodungallūr in Cochin territory on the coast is another favourite place of pilgrimage among the Tiyans. All classes of people, with the exception of Brāhmans, undertake this pilgrimage. Everyone under a vow, proceeding to the festival, which takes place in February or March, carries with him a cock, which is beheaded at the shrine. Under the Perumāls, pilgrimage to Kodungallūr was somewhat compulsory. This temple was a fruitful source of revenue to the State, for not only the Tiyans, but the fisherman and artisan castes had their own temple in every tara in the land, and the Mūppan—the Komaram—of each temple was under an obligation to contribute yearly gifts to the temple at Kodungallūr. Rent for the temple lands was set at a nominal figure—a mere pepper-corn rent as acknowledgment of sovereign right. Rent might not be paid in times of trouble, but the gifts eked out of superstition were unfailing. It is not surprising, therefore, that learning and advancement among the inferior castes did not receive much encouragement from the rulers of those days.

The temple of Kotiyūr in North Malabar is also a shrine to which Tiyans make pilgrimage. Indeed, it may be said that they follow Hinduism generally in rather a low form, and that Sakti worship is perhaps more peculiarly theirs than others’, owing to their being able to use arrack, a product of the palm, and therefore of their own particular métier. The highest merit in Sakti can be reached only through arrack. The Sakti goddess, Bhagavati, the Tiyans look upon as their own guardian spirit.

As instancing the mixture and confusion of religious ideas in Malabar, it may be mentioned that Māppillas have been known to indulge in Sakti worship, and Tiyans to have made vows, and given offerings at Māppilla mosques and Christian churches. Vows to the well-known mosque at Mambram are made by people of almost every caste. It is not uncommon to present the first fruit of a jāk tree, or the milk of a cow when it brings forth its first calf, to the local Tangal or Māppilla priest.

In many, perhaps in most Tiyan houses, offerings are made annually to a bygone personage named Kunnath Nāyar, and to his friend and disciple Kunhi Rāyan, a Māppilla. It is probable that they excelled in witchcraft and magic, but, according to the story, the Nāyar worshipped the kite until he obtained command and control over all the snakes in the land. The offerings are made in order to prevent accidents from snakes. The snake god will also give children to the family, and promote domestic prosperity. Men without offspring worship him. Leprosy and the death of a child are believed to be the consequence of killing a snake. There are Māppilla devotees of Kunnath Nāyar and Kunhi Rāyan, who exhibit snakes in a box, and collect alms. There is a snake mosque near Manarghāt, at the foot of the Nīlgiri hills, which has its annual festival. The alms are collected ostensibly for this mosque.

An interesting story, which is the legendary account of the exodus of the artisans from Malabar, and their return with the Tiyans, is narrated by the Pānans. There were, in olden times, five recognised classes, which includes the Āsāris (carpenters), Musāris (workers in bell-metal), Thattāns (goldsmiths), and Perin-Kollans (blacksmiths). The fifth class is unknown. When an individual of the artisan classes dies, the Pānan of the tara must bring a death gift to the house, which consists of cocoanuts and jāk fruits or plantains. The Pānan places the gift in the yard and repeats a long formula, which he has learnt by heart. It is very likely that he knows little or nothing of its meaning. But he reels it off, and at its conclusion the gifts are accepted. The same formula is also always repeated among the carpenters, goldsmiths, and blacksmiths during wedding and tāli-tying ceremonies. It relates how the artisans deserted the land of Chēraman Perumāl, and sought an asylum in the country of the Izhuvans with the island king, and how the Perumāl sent the Pānan to bring them back. Every one knows this old story, and believes it firmly. It must be learnt by heart, and the Pānan gives it in the yard when a member of the artisan classes dies. The story is to the following effect. During the four Yugams, Kreta, Treta, Dwapara, and Kāli, many kings reigned over the earth. Parasu Rāman destroyed the Kshatriya kings on twenty-one occasions, and was obliged to make atonement in expiatory ceremonies. He worshipped Varuna, the ocean god, and recovered from the sea a hundred and sixty kāthams of land, consisting of Kōlanād (?), Vēnād (Travancore), Kanya Kumāri (Cape Comorin), Chēranād, and Malayālam up to Changala Vazhi beyond the Anaimalai hills. Chēraman Perūmāl was the ruler of this land, in which were the four castes. His capital was at Tiruvanja Kolam. One day, Veluthēdan[27] Chiraman was washing the Perumāl’s cloths in a tank. He beat the cloths on a stone which was flat on the ground, and held one of the cloths in his hand. A girl of the carpenter caste, Ayyesvari by name, was just then going to the tank to bathe after her monthly period. She called out “Ho! Kammal.[28] That is not the way to wash cloths. Put a small stone under one end of your washing stone, so as to make it slope a little. Then hold both ends of the cloth in your hand, and beat the middle of the cloth on the stone.” The Veluthēdan did so, and found that he washed better, and the cloths were whiter. The Perumāl asked him “Were you not washing the cloths before? Who washed them to-day?” To which the Veluthēdan replied “Oh! Tamburān (chief or lord), a carpenter girl instructed your slave to-day how to wash cloths properly. May Perumāl be pleased to order the girl to be given to your slave as his wife.” Perumāl then said “To whatever caste she may belong, you may take her by force, and will not lose your caste.” Having received the king’s permission, Veluthēdan Chiraman concealed himself near the carpenter’s house, and, when the girl opened the door to sweep the yard at dawn, he seized her, and carried her off to his house. Carpenter Sankaran of Tiruvanja Kalam went to the Perumāl, and complained that Veluthēdan Kammal had carried away his daughter, and disgraced him. He asked the Perumāl whether he would give him an armed guard to rescue her. To which the Perumāl replied “I will not help either party with armed men. You must fight it out among yourselves.” Then the five classes of artisans consulted one another, and made common cause. The Pānans, Perin Malayans, and Chēn (red) Koravans joined the artisans. The Ven Thachāns, Vēlans, Paravans, Vēttuvans, Kanisan Panikars, and the Pāndi Pulluvans of Vellālanād joined the other side. There was war for twelve years. In the end, the artisans were defeated. They said among themselves “We have been defeated by the fourteenth caste of Veluthēdan Nāyar, who carried away our daughter. Let us leave this country.” So 7,764 families, with the women and children, tied up their mats, and left Chēramān Perumāl’s country, and went to Izhuva land, which was beyond it. They went before the Izhuva king (island king), and told him their story. Now Chēramān Perumāl used to be shaved every fifteen days. When the barber (Velakathalavan) was sent for, he came without his knife (razor), as his wife had buried it. He said “Oh! Tamburan, have mercy on your slave. Your slave’s knife was given to the blacksmith to be mended, and he took it away with him. He gave me this piece of iron, saying “If you want the knife made ready for use, you must come to the Izhuva land for it, and we will mend it on our return.” So Perumāl had to go without shaving, and his hair grew like a Rishi’s. As there were neither carpenters nor smiths to make implements, agriculture was almost at a standstill; and, as there were no goldsmiths, the tāli-tying ceremonies could not be performed. Nor could the rice-giving ceremony be done, for want of the “neck-rings.” Then Chēramān Perumāl obtained advice, and resolved to send the Mannān (washerman of the Tiyans), who was included in the fourteenth caste, and the Pānan, who belonged to the eleventh caste. The Perumāl gave to each of them a thousand fanams, and told them to go to the Izhuva country, and bring back the Kammālans (artisans). They wandered over various countries, stopping wherever they found a house. The Pānan, being clever, was able to live by his wits, and spent no money of his own. The Mannān, on the contrary, spent all his money. They passed Ramapūri, and reached Trichivampūri. Then the Mannān asked the Pānan for a loan, which was refused. On Friday at noon, the Mannān left the Pānan, saying “The Pānan is no companion for the Mannān.” He returned to the Perumāl and reported his failure, and the Pānan’s refusal to lend him money. The Pānan went on, crossing rivers, canals, and ferries, and at last reached the Izhuva king’s country. He entered the reception hall. At that moment, the king’s goldsmith, who had just finished making a golden crown for him, had put it on his own head, to test its suitability for wearing. The Pānan thought he was the king, and made obeisance to him. The Kammālans recognised him. He discovered his mistake too late, for he had addressed the goldsmith as Tamburan. So, to this day, the Pānans, when addressing goldsmiths, say Tamburan. The Pānan told the Kammālans of his mission, but they refused to return unless full reparation was made for the abduction of the carpenter girl, and certain social disabilities were removed. The 7,764 families of Kammālans asked the Izhuva king his advice, and he said that they should not go away. So the Kammālans sent the Pānan back, and gave him the following presents, in order to demonstrate to the Perumāl that they were in comfortable circumstances:—

The Kammālans sent word to the Perumāl that they would not return, unless they were given a girl in place of the carpenter’s daughter, who had been abducted, and certain privileges were granted to them. At the same time, they promised the Pānan that they would share their privileges with him, if he was successful. So the Pānan returned, and appeared before the Perumāl, who asked him where the Kammālans were. The Pānan removed his gold cap, and put it under his arm, and replied that they were prosperous, and not anxious to return. Saying so, he placed before the Perumāl the rich presents given by the Kammālans, and told the king that they would not return, unless they were given a girl and certain concessions. The Perumāl told the Pānan to go back, and invite the Kammālans to return on their own terms. He said they would catch the first girl they met on the way to his palace, and all their demands were granted. The Pānan arrived again in the Izhuva country, and told the Kammālans what the Perumāl had said. They went to the Izhuva king, and obtained his permission to return to their own country. Then they caught an Izhuva boy, and confined him. The king asked them why they did so. They replied that they had lived for twelve years[29] as his subjects, and would never recognise any other king, so they wanted the Izhuva boy to represent him. The king consented. When they started, the boy began to cry. A Nasrāni,[30] by name Thomma (Thomas), was taken to accompany and protect the boy. The Kammālans travelled to their own country, and appeared before Chēramān Perumāl. On the way, they found a girl of the Variar caste plucking flowers, and caught her by the hand. All the five classes claimed her. At last it was resolved to unite her with the Izhuva boy, their Tandān, who represented their king, and treat her as their sister. Chēramān Perumāl confirmed his promise, and granted the following privileges to the Kammālans:—

1. To make ceilings for their houses.

2. To make upstairs houses to live in.

3. To put up single staircases, consisting of one pole, in which notches are cut, or pegs are stuck alternately, for the feet.