After we had gone about sixteen miles, the country began to assume a more hilly aspect, and we were soon surrounded by mountains on every side. At the foot of each ascent we found extra horses in waiting for us; these were yoked to the ordinary team, and whirled us rapidly over all obstacles. Although there is a rise of about 2,000 feet on the road to Candy, we performed the distance, seventy-two miles, in eleven hours.
The nearer we approached our destination, the more varied and changing became the scenery. At one time we might be closely hemmed in by the mountains, and then the next moment they would stretch away, one above the other, while their summits seemed to contend which should outrival the rest in altitude and beauty of outline. They were covered, to the height of several thousand feet, with luxuriant vegetation, which, for the most part, then generally ceased, and gave way to the bare rock. I was not less interested, however, with the curious teams we sometimes met, than I was with the scenery. It is well known that Ceylon abounds in elephants, many of which are captured and employed for various purposes. Those that I now saw were yoked in twos or threes to large waggons, full of stones for mending the roads.
Four miles before reaching Candy, we came to the river Mahavilaganga, which is spanned by a masterly bridge of one arch. The materials of the bridge are most costly, consisting of satin-wood. In connection with this structure, I learned the following legend.
After the conquest of the island by the English, the natives did not give up the hope of once more attaining their independence, because one of their oracles had declared that it was as impossible for the enemy to obtain a lasting dominion over them, as it was for the opposite banks of the Mahavilaganga to be united by a road. When the bridge was begun, they smiled, and said that it could never be successfully completed. At present, I was told, they think of independence no more.
Near the bridge is a botanical garden which I visited the following day, and was astonished at its excellent arrangement, and the richness of its collection of flowers, plants, and trees.
Opposite the garden is one of the largest sugar-plantations, and, in the neighbourhood, a number of coffee-plantations.
In my opinion, the situation of Candy is most beautiful, but many affirm that it is too near the mountains, and lies in a pit. At any rate, this pit is a very lovely one, abounding in the most luxuriant vegetation. The town itself is small and ugly, consisting of nothing but a mass of small shops, with natives passing to and fro. The few houses that belong to Europeans, the places of business, and the barracks, are all outside the town, upon small hills. Large sheets of artificial water, surrounded by splendid stone balustrades, and shaded by alleys of the mighty tulip-tree, occupy a portion of the valley. On the side of one of these basins, stands the famous Buddhist temple of Dagoha, which is built in the Moorish-Hindostanee style, and richly ornamented.
On my leaving the coach, one of the passengers was kind enough to recommend me a good hotel, and to call a native and direct him where to conduct me. When I reached the hotel, the people there said that they were very sorry, but that all their rooms were occupied. I asked them to direct my guide to another establishment, which they did. The rascal led me away from the town, and, pointing to a hill which was near us, gave me to understand that the hotel was situated behind it. I believed him, as all the houses are built far apart; but on ascending the hill, I found nothing but a lonely spot and a wood. I wished to turn back, but the fellow paid no attention to my desire, and continued walking towards the wood. I then snatched my portmanteau from him, and refused to proceed any further. He endeavoured to wrest it from me, when, luckily, I saw in the distance two English soldiers, who hastened up in answer to my cries, and, on seeing this, the fellow ran off. I related my adventure to the soldiers, who congratulated me on the recovery of my luggage, and conducted me to the barracks, where one of the officers was kind enough to give orders that I should be conducted to another hotel.
My first visit was to the temple of Dagoha, which contains a valuable relic of the god Buddha, namely, one of his teeth, and, together with the out-buildings, is surrounded by a wall. The circumference of the principal temple is not very considerable, and the sanctuary, which contains the tooth, is a small chamber hardly twenty feet broad. Within this place all is darkness, as there are no windows, and inside the door, there is a curtain, to prevent the entry of any light. The walls and ceiling are covered with silk tapestry, which, however, has nothing but its antiquity to recommend it. It is true that it was interwoven with gold thread, but it appeared never to have been especially costly, and I cannot believe that it ever produced that dazzling effect which some travellers have described. Half of the chamber was engrossed by a large table, or kind of altar, inlaid with plates of silver, and ornamented round the edges with precious stones. On it stands a bell-shaped case, measuring at the bottom at least three feet in diameter, and the same in height. It is made of silver thickly gilt, and decorated with a number of costly jewels; there is a peacock in the middle entirely formed of precious stones; but all these treasures fail to produce any very great effect, from the clumsy and inartistic fashion in which they are set.
Under the large case there are six smaller ones, said to be of pure gold; under the last is the tooth of the all-powerful divinity. The outer case is secured by means of three locks, two of the keys belonging to which used to be kept by the English governor, while the third remained in the custody of the chief priest of the temple. A short time previous to my visit, however, the government had restored the two keys to the natives with great solemnities, and they are now confided to one of the native Radschas, or princes.