The only part of the temple which is of a different age from the rest is a small vimana, of very elegant proportions, that stands in the garden, on the right hand of the visitor as he enters from the west[385] (D). It has, however, been so long exposed—like the temple on the shore at Mahavellipore—to the action of the sea-air, that its details are so corroded they cannot now be made out, and its age cannot consequently be ascertained from them. It is safe, however, to assert that it is more modern than any of the rock-cut examples above quoted; possibly it may be of the 11th or 12th century. Its dimensions may be guessed as 50 ft. in height, by 30 ft. or 40 ft. in plan, so that it hardly forms a feature in so large a temple. From the four bulls that occupy the platform under the dome, it is evident it was originally dedicated to Siva, as the whole temple now apparently is, though the scene of Rama’s most celebrated exploit, and bearing his name.
Externally the temple is enclosed by a wall 20 ft. in height, and possessing four gopuras, one on each face, which have this peculiarity, that they alone, of all those I know in India, are built wholly of stone from the base to the summit. The western one (D) alone, however, is finished, and owing apparently to the accident of its being in stone, it is devoid of figure-sculpture—some half-dozen plaster casts that now adorn it having been added quite recently. Those on the north and south (A and C) are hardly higher than the wall in which they stand, and are consequently called the ruined gateways. Such a thing is, however, so far as I know, unknown in southern India. Partly from their form, and more from the solidity of their construction, nothing but an earthquake could well damage them, and their age is not such as would superinduce ruin from decay of material. These, in fact, have never been raised higher, and their progress was probably stopped in the beginning of the last century, when Mahomedan, Mahratta, and other foreign invaders checked the prosperity of the land, and destroyed the wealth of the priesthood. The eastern façade has two entrances and two gopuras. The smaller, not shown in the plan, is finished. The larger one (B in the plan) never was carried higher than we now see it. Had it been finished,[386] it would have been one of the largest of its class, and being wholly in stone, and consequently without its outline being broken by sculpture, it would have reproduced more nearly the effect of an Egyptian propylon than any other example of its class in India.
The glory, however, of this temple resides in its corridors. These, as will be seen by the plan, extend to nearly 4000 feet in length. The breadth varies from 20 ft. to 30 ft. of free floor space, and their height is apparently about 30 ft. from the floor to the centre of the roof. Each pillar or pier is compound, and richer and more elaborate in design than those of the Parvati porch at Chillambaram ([Woodcut No. 197]), and are certainly more modern in date.
201. Central Corridor, Ramisseram. (From a Photograph.)
The general appearance of these corridors may be gathered from the annexed woodcut (No. [201]), but no engraving, even on a much more extended scale, can convey the impression produced by such a display of labour when extended to an uninterrupted length of 700 ft. None of our cathedrals are more than 500 ft., and even the nave of St. Peter’s is only 600 ft. from the door to the apse. Here the side corridors are 700 ft. long, and open into transverse galleries as rich in detail as themselves. These, with the varied devices and modes of lighting, produce an effect that is not equalled certainly anywhere in India. The side corridors are generally free from figure-sculpture, and consequently, from much of the vulgarity of the age to which they belong, and, though narrower, produce a more pleasing effect. The central corridor leading from the sanctuary is adorned on one side by portraits of the rajas of Ramnad in the 17th century, and opposite them, of their secretaries. Even they, however, would be tolerable, were it not that within the last few years they have been painted with a vulgarity that is inconceivable on the part of the descendants of those who built this fane. Not only they, however, but the whole of the architecture has first been dosed with repeated coats of whitewash, so as to take off all the sharpness of detail, and then painted with blue, green, red, and yellow washes, so as to disfigure and destroy its effect to an extent that must be seen to be believed. Nothing can more painfully prove the degradation to which our system has reduced the population than this profanity. No upper class, and consequently no refinement, now remains, and the priesthood, instead of being high bred and intellectual Brahmans, must be sunk into a state of debasement from which nothing can now probably redeem them.
Assuming, however, for the nonce, that this painting never had been perpetrated, still the art displayed here would be very inferior to that of such a temple as, for instance, Hullabîd, in the Mysore, to be described further on. The perimeter, however, of that temple is only 700 ft.; here we have corridors extending to 4000 ft., carved on both sides, and in the hardest granite. It is the immensity of the labour here displayed that impresses us, much more than its quality, and that, combined with a certain picturesqueness and mystery, does produce an effect which is not surpassed by any other temple in India, and by very few elsewhere.
The age of this temple is hardly doubtful. From first to last its style—excepting the old vimana—is so uniform and unaltered that its erection could hardly have lasted during a hundred years, and if this is so, it must have been during the 17th century, when the Ramnad rajas were at the height of their independence and prosperity, and when their ally or master, Tirumulla Nayak, was erecting buildings in the same identical style at Mádura. It may have been commenced fifty years earlier (1550), and the erection of its gopuras may have extended into the 18th century, but these seem the possible limits of deviation. Being so recent, any one on the spot could easily ascertain the facts. They could indeed be determined very nearly from the photographs, were it not for the whitewash and paint, which so disfigure the details as to make them almost unrecognisable.