Mádura.
If the native authorities consulted by the late Professor Wilson in compiling his Historical sketch of the Kingdom of Pándya could be relied upon, it would seem that the foundation of the dynasty ought to be placed some five or six centuries before the Christian Era.[387] Even, however, if this is disputed, the fact of the southern part of the Peninsula being described as the “Regio Pandionis” by classical authorities is sufficient to prove that a kingdom bearing that name did exist there in the early centuries of the Christian Era. Their first capitals, however, seem to have been Kurkhi, possibly the Kolkhi of the Periplus, near Ramnad, and Kalyana, near Cape Comorin. The story of Kula Sekhara founding Mádura, and the fabulous incidents with which the tale is adorned, is one of the favourite legends of the south, and is abundantly illustrated in sculptures of Tirumulla Nayak’s choultrie and in other buildings of the capital.
For our present purposes it is hardly worth while to attempt to investigate the succession of the dates of the seventy-three kings who are said to have succeeded one another before the accession of the Nayak or Naik dynasty, in 1532, inasmuch as no building is now known to exist in the kingdom that can claim, even on the most shadowy grounds, to have been erected by any of these kings. It may have been that, anterior to the rise of the great Chola dynasty, in the 10th and 11th century, that of Mádura may have had a long period of prosperity and power; but certain it is, that if they did build anything of importance, its existence cannot now be identified. After that, for a while they seem to have been subjected to the Bellala dynasty of the Mysore, and the same Mahomedan invasion that destroyed that power in 1310 spread its baneful influence as far as Ramnad, and for two centuries their raids and oppressions kept the whole of southern India in a state of anarchy and confusion. Their power for evil was first checked by the rise of the great Hindu state of Vijayanagar, in the Tongabhadra, in the 14th century, and by the establishment, under its protection, of the Nayak dynasty by Viswanath Nayak, in the beginning of the 16th. After lasting 210 years, the last sovereign of the race—a queen—was first aided, and then betrayed, by Chanda Sahib the Nawaub of the Carnatic, who plays so important a part in our wars with the French in these parts.
It may be—indeed, probably is the case—that there are temples in the provinces that were erected before the rise of the Nayak dynasty, but certain it is that all those in the capital, with the great temple at Seringham, described above, were erected during the two centuries of their supremacy, and of those in the capital nine-tenths at least were erected during the long and prosperous reign of the tenth king of this dynasty, Tirumulla Nayak, or as he is more popularly known, Trimul Naik, who reigned from 1621 to 1657.[388]
Of his buildings, the most important, for our purposes[389] at least, is
| 202. Plan of Tirumulla Nayak’s Choultrie. (From a Drawing in the possession of the Royal Asiatic Society.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. | 203. Pillar in Tirumulla Nayak’s Choultrie. (From a Drawing in the possession of the Royal Asiatic Society.) |
the celebrated choultrie which he built for the reception of the presiding deity of the place, who consented to leave his dark cell in the temple and pay the king an annual visit of ten days’ duration, on condition of his building a hall worthy of his dignity, and where he could receive in a suitable manner the homage of the king and his subjects. As will be seen from the plan ([Woodcut No. 202]) the hall is 333 ft. long by 105 ft. in width, measured on the stylobate, and consists of four ranges of columns, all of which are different, and all most elaborately sculptured. An elevation of one is given ([Woodcut No. 203]), but is not so rich as those of the centre, which have life-sized figures attached to them, and are even more elaborate in their details. In this instance it will be observed that the detached bracketing shaft at Chillambaram has become attached to the square central pier, and instead of the light elegance that characterised that example, has become a solid pier, five or six feet in depth—richer certainly, but far from being either so elegant or so appropriate as the earlier example.
The view of the interior ([Woodcut No. 204]) gives some, but only a faint, idea of the effect. The sides are now closed with screens, and it is difficult to procure good photographs; but in effect, as in detail, it is identical with the corridors at Ramisseram, where the light is abundant.