The Pearl of India

by Maturin M. Ballou

In one of the large villa-bungalows nestling on the hillside overlooking the verdant amphitheatre of Kandy lived that notable political prisoner, Arabi Pasha, with his ample harem and a host of body servants, forming a bit of Egyptian domestic life transported bodily to this Indian isle. It will be remembered that he was exiled from Cairo by the English about twelve years since, because he was a famous and successful fighting general among his people, his special battle-cry being "Egypt for the Egyptians." One feels a lingering sympathy for a man who fought bravely for the liberty of his country, very nearly conquering the British troops on the sanguinary field of Tel-el-Keber; yet this man deserves more blame than praise, for it was he who recklessly burned Alexandria, and caused a reign of assassination in that devoted city for many terrible days. Though a prisoner like the first Napoleon when held at St. Helena, Arabi has never hesitated to freely express his political opinions, bitterly condemning his conquerors. He is still—and very properly we think—the ardent advocate of "Egypt for the Egyptians," and even in his advanced years would promptly head a rebellion against English rule in his native land, were he at liberty to do so.

A report has lately been circulated that Arabi Pasha has been permitted to return to Egypt, but as to its truth the author cannot answer.

Each of these hillside dwellings, like that occupied by Arabi Pasha's, covers a large space of ground. They are seldom over one story in height, and have a tall, steep-pitched roof of red tiles or thatch, and wide verandas running entirely round the whole structure, half covered by thrifty creepers and flowering vines. The roof generally reaches beyond the veranda until it ends six or eight feet from the ground. The interior of the dwelling is dark and cool, as the doors and windows all open beneath the shade of the roof. No sunshine can penetrate these dwellings, and consequently there is an inevitable unwholesome dampness ever present inside them.

The population of Kandy amounts to some twenty-two or three thousand, embracing but a few Europeans,—that is, comparatively speaking. Those of the latter class not included in the government departments are mostly interested in tea, coffee, or cinchona raising, in the immediate neighborhood. The Europeans have established two small hotels, or at least they are called hotels; but any one obliged to tax their hospitality for a considerable length of time has our sincere commiseration.

The author's experience on the occasion of his first visit to Kandy in the matter of hotel accommodation was not especially agreeable. Passing over the abundance of insectivorous annoyances,—centipedes upon the walls, gigantic cockroaches on the floor, and ants upon everything,—it was rather severe to be obliged to remove one's bed from beneath a leaking roof, which admitted a steady stream of water. When it rains in these latitudes, it does so by wholesale; not in little pattering drops, but in avalanches and miniature Niagaras. However, a large tub being produced, we were lulled to sleep by the dull sound of dripping water, to awake next morning and find the receptacle overflowing. The novelty of the situation often smooths over the keen edge of discomfort. The fireflies that night floated about the chamber in such numbers as to dispute the illuminating power with the primitive light supplied to guests, which consisted of a small button of cork, with a bit of cotton wicking, floating upon a shallow dish of cocoanut oil.

There are several missionary chapels in Kandy, besides an Episcopal church, a library, and a reading-room for public use. Very little visible business seems to be transacted here, but as to the natural surroundings of this inland capital, the scenery, the arboreal beauties, and the floral charms, too much cannot be said in commendation. It seems to a casual visitor to be the most attractive district in the island, forgetting, as every reasonable traveler learns to do, the few local annoyances.

The justly famous Botanical Gardens of Ceylon form a marvel of plant life, and are situated about three miles from Kandy proper. The grounds are entered through a grand avenue of india-rubber-trees, whose tall, widespread branches are heavy with polished dark green, leather-like leaves, vividly recalling the splendid avenue of palms in the public garden of Rio Janeiro, situated behind the tall peak of the Corcovado,—"the Hunchback." This garden of Ceylon occupies about a hundred and fifty acres, and is surrounded on three sides by the Maha-velle-Ganga. The india-rubber-trees are buttressed by large, exposed white roots, very anaconda-like at first view, showing that this tree draws its subsistence largely from atmospheric air. The roots often spread a hundred and fifty feet in diameter, so twisted and peculiar in shape that the natives call it the snake-tree. The removal of the milk-white secretion by tapping does it no apparent injury, it being a distinct product, flowing in a different channel, it would seem, from the sustaining sap. We were informed that a healthy, full-grown tree might be drawn upon daily for two thirds of the year with good results. The Ceylon species of the india-rubber-tree is not nearly so productive of the peculiar secretion which makes its value as those which are indigenous to South America. Indeed, it is not a native of this Indian island, but was introduced by the Portuguese while they held sway. No attempt is made here to produce the article known as gutta-percha in commercial quantities, and, indeed, the tree is not sufficiently abundant in Ceylon. The headquarters of this industry are at Pará, on the coast of Brazil, where the product of the india-rubber-tree forms the great staple of the exports, and its collection in the neighboring forests gives employment to a large share of the native population.

This elaborate garden, one league south of Kandy, probably forms the choicest and most extensive collection of plant life in the world. It is, except for the nature of its tropical vegetation, like a well-kept European conservatory or park, ornamented by choice lawns and magnificent groups of trees, special families being arranged together. The average temperature here is recorded at 77° Fahr. This, together with the natural and abundant moisture, insures the very best results. A small stream runs through the middle of the grounds, widening here and there into a tiny lake, where a great variety of aquatic plants thrive luxuriantly, including the gorgeous and ever attractive lotus, together with many other examples of the lily family. This garden has been organized for about seventy-five years,—to be exact, it was opened in 1819,—during which period the original idea has been well adhered to, of introducing by its means such plants as are not indigenous, but which might, if cultivated here, be of real benefit to the inhabitants. Fortunately, it has always been presided over by an enthusiastic and scientific horticulturist. All kinds of useful vegetation of tropical regions are represented, their nature studied, and a record kept of the same, while seeds, cuttings, fruits, and the like are freely distributed to farmers and planters, European and native. The variety of palms in these grounds is a revelation to the average visitor, as few persons know how many distinctive examples there are of this invaluable member of the arboreal family of the East, some of which are stupendous in size. We have been told that the garden contained two hundred and fifty distinct varieties of the palm, but one may reasonably have doubts as to so large an aggregate. Among them are talipots, palmyras, cocoanuts, the slender areca, the date palm, and the fan palm, already described, spreading out its broad leaves like a peacock's tail. This is often called the traveler's tree, because the trunk is never without a supply of pure water with which to quench his thirst. When pierced with a knife at the juncture of the stems, it yields copious draughts of water. Here one sees palms from Cuba, Guinea, China, Africa, and Brazil, each exhibiting some special characteristics of importance, and all thriving, together with clumps of climbing rattans. These latter, not thicker than one's finger, yet wind about the trees from two to three hundred feet in height, having the longest stem of any known plant. Small groves of nutmegs, cloves, mangoes, citrons, and pepper-trees attract the visitor's attention, together with budding cinnamon and cardamom bushes; nor must we forget to mention the fragrant vanilla-tree, which to the author recalled a delightful experience in far-away southern Mexico, where a mountain side near Oxala was rendered lovely and delicious by the profuse growth of this flavoring product of the tropics.

Here and there a tall, thrifty acacia is seen, suffused with golden-yellow bloom in rich profusion. Excepting the California pepper-tree, with its drooping clusters of useless but lovely scarlet berries, the varieties of the acacia are unrivaled as beautiful shade trees. When in full bloom, under the dazzling rays of an equatorial sun, they seem to be all on fire, forming a strong contrast to the prevailing dark green of the tropics.

The flower of the cinnamon-tree is white, and when a range of country containing many acres in bloom comes into view, the effect is very beautiful. The best cinnamon gardens are nearest to the sea coast, and those so situated produce the most pungent bark. On the occasion of our visit, special notice was taken of a group of bamboos in the Kandy garden, the bright yellow stems being over a hundred feet in height, and each stem at the base measuring from eight to ten inches in diameter. It was a native of the spot, and, as we were assured, was a chance development. The rapidity of its growth, which is a remarkable characteristic of this tropical grass,—for that is its family,—is almost incredible. The cluster here spoken of was a little more than ninety days old, and, as the superintendent informed us, it increased in height twelve inches and more each twenty-four hours. This group of bamboos formed a grove by itself, two hundred feet in circumference, its feathery, misty foliage yielding gracefully to every pressure of the breeze, softly fanning the surface of the still water on whose brink it flourished. The bamboo, like the palm, is one of the most valuable and universal products of the tropics. It would require an entire volume to enumerate the various uses to which these two are applied by native skill. The division of the garden called the fernery is a delightful resort, presenting a collection ranging from the low-growing maiden-hair to the tall tree-fern with broad-leaved, tufted top and declining branches.