It was evening ere, with many a hearty shake of the hand, we tore ourselves away from the cordial hospitality of St. Sebastian de Makùn. Horse and driver this time gave hope of faster progress. But we were doomed once more to experience a severe disappointment, and although we were only about 10 or 12 miles distant from Colombo, which was our destination, it took us five long hours to get over the ground. The night was very dark, but the road was continually illuminated with torches of palm, carried by the homeward plodding natives, which emitted a gloomy light alternating with showers of sparks.
When at last we got to Colombo about midnight, pretty well knocked-up, we comforted ourselves with the reflection that the inconveniences attending personal transport between Galle and the seat of government, can by no means be classed among events of rare occurrence; since, in consequence of the inveterate obstinacy of the native horse, one must have recourse to the most incredible expedients to get the carriage under weigh. For instance, at every station the ears of the post-horse were twisted together and then suddenly relaxed in order to set the vehicle in motion; and, when this torture failed, a pole, or thick stick, was inserted under the tail of the recalcitrant, and rubbed up and down till the poor animal, smarting under this painful operation, took to the collar. Once the carriage is started in this extraordinary fashion, the coachman swings to and fro at the peril of his life, and endeavours by continually "pitching into" the horse, to keep him at the gallop. Thus between whooping and whipping the next station is reached, where the same trial of patience awaits the traveller, and a similar martyrdom for the next horse.
Our first business the following morning was to take a walk through Colombo, which, like Galle, consists of "The Fort," or White City, and the "Pettah," or Black Quarter, in the latter of which are situated the houses and shops of the natives, and where the chief traffic and the greatest activity are combined. Here one rarely encounters a white man, for even the soldiers and police belong to the brown and black races. The natives, however, manifest, outwardly at least, a great respect for the whites, and everywhere draw aside reverentially when one makes his appearance.
In the middle of the main street are some Buddhist temples. We were not, however, permitted to enter, unless we consented to take off our shoes. At several of the natives' houses the entrance porch and windows were gaily adorned with plantain leaves. On inquiring of our Cingalese attendant what was the occasion of this manifestation, he replied in broken English that the inmates were celebrating "Christmas," wishing probably to express that the natives celebrated a feast analogous to our Christmas.
The filth and unsavoury odours which prevail in the Black Quarter, and the noise and yelling of the natives, speedily drive visitors back to the European portion of the city, which altogether, with its gloomy, decayed aspect, makes anything but a favourable impression. The public buildings, the houses of the mercantile community, the warehouses, and fortifications, all bear the impress of the Portuguese settlement of bygone centuries; and as its commerce is attracted more and more every year to Galle,[82] there remains but faint hope that this quaint type will not ere long be effaced by a new style of building, albeit the inhabitants of the capital promise themselves a restored reign of activity and energy, as the result of railway communication with Galle.
[82] The value of the produce exported annually from the island (chiefly cocoa-nuts, coir, cinnamon, and coffee), is above £2,000,000, and the imports of European manufactures are about the same amount.
During our random promenade through the streets of what is called the Fort, we perceived at a sugar-baker's in Chatham Street—the most select quarter of Colombo, and containing the most important warehouses, which, however, are far from elegant in their appearance—some rough ice offered for sale, which had a curious effect in a town so near the Equator, and presenting such few evidences of luxury in other respects. This ice is brought round the Cape of Good Hope from the United States, and is chiefly shipped from Boston. The daily consumption of iced-water, ices, and so forth, is estimated at about 1000 lbs., costing about one shilling the 8 lbs. It is impossible to repress a feeling of astonishment at these speculative Yankees who, despite all obstacles interposed by temperature, transport in all directions and over thousands of miles an article so perishable, so easily destructible as ice, and are able to drive a profitable business in it in the hottest and most diverse regions of the globe—in the West Indies and South America, in Asia, and in Africa.
The traveller who visits Colombo will hardly fail to make an excursion to the Cinnamon Garden, in order to inhale the fragrant and peculiar aroma, and enjoy tasting the tender rind of this remarkable shrub, which plays so conspicuous a part in the history of Ceylon. During the palmy days of cinnamon culture, the five principal cinnamon plantations of the southern half of the island extended some 15 or 20 miles. For this one lucrative product of the soil all others on the island were abandoned, with most deplorable consequences. The cinnamon culture, a monopoly of the various governments which one after another conquered Ceylon, and domineered over its inhabitants, was carried on, especially by the Dutch East India Company, with terrible severity. The slightest embezzlement of cinnamon, or wilful damage to the plant, was visited with death. The unintentional breaking off of a twig of the cinnamon bush was punished with amputation of the offending member. Every cinnamon bush, even to those growing in the gardens of private individuals, was the property of the Government, and the cinnamon collector, or even cinnamon-peeler alone, had the right to strip off the rind when ripe. To destroy such a plant, or even to dispose of it to any one, was regarded as a crime affecting life. The labourers, who were employed in the cutting off, peeling, and preparation of the rind, belonged to the caste of Chalias, and constituted the lowest grade of that class. In like manner, under the English rule, the monopoly of cinnamon was at first continued, with such disastrous consequences to the trade that it was finally abandoned in 1832, and the merchants of Colombo and Galle were left to divide among themselves the exportation of this important article, under an exporting duty of 3s. per lb. These duties, however, were found much too high, as the highest price obtainable in Europe was from 6s. to 7s.; and this advance in the price to the trade of the genuine article, was the cause of foreign merchants turning their attention to the supply of various species of cinnamon-bearing laurels and cassias, growing in Cochin-China and Java.
When Government, recovering at last from its delusion of treating cinnamons, which at first had seemed indigenous to the island of Ceylon alone on the earth,[83] as a national monopoly, reduced the export duty to one shilling, and ultimately repealed it altogether, the various substitutes had already found their level in Europe, as affording a larger supply at a much more moderate rate, and the cultivation of the finer kinds became less and less each year. Prices fell, and the consumption was diminished. Only the coarser sorts repaid exportation. Nay, it even led to the interesting and curious result, that just as, previous to the high price under monopoly, the low-priced cassia displaced the finer sort of genuine cinnamon, at the present day the coarser sorts of cinnamon are beginning to oust the cassia from the English market, whence all the world are supplied. At present there are from 14,000 to 15,000 acres planted with cinnamon, chiefly in private hands, and producing annually from 800,000 to 900,000 lbs. of cinnamon, worth from £40,000 to £50,000 sterling.
[83] Sir Emerson Tennent, in his work (vol. i. p. 599), challenges the assertion that Ceylon is the native country of the cinnamon-tree. In no European or Asiatic chronicles is any mention made of cinnamon as a product or article of commerce in Ceylon up to the end of the thirteenth century. Although it was from the earliest times imported into Europe from Africa through Arabia, the natives trading with Ceylon first knew of the existence on the island of this important shrub about the twelfth or thirteenth century. Hence Sir Emerson looks upon Africa as the native country of the cinnamon-tree.