as the base of Lord Clive’s operations, during his
successful campaign against Arcot in 1751, six years
before he won the battle of Plassey, the two greatest
events in the history of India of the last century.
Also our fight at Conjeveram in 1780, against the
forces of Hyder Ali, will be remembered by those
versed in Indian history.
The country we passed through is flat but well
wooded; teak, with its large ragged leaves, acacia
and mango trees there are in abundance, also the tulip
tree and the portia; and birds of every variety of
plumage, including the prettily marked florikan
(Syphrotides auritus), so much appreciated by the
aoux'ifiets of Madras. The extensive rice fields, swarming
with white ibis, and innumerable women weeding,
clothed in bright red and yellow sarees, a kind of
tunic, bangles on wrists and ankles, presented a very
lively scene, and one not easily forgotten. The men in
rnese country districts seldom encumber themselves
much with dress, a dhotee or loin cloth, and turban,
complete their toilet.
On reaching Conjeveram, my khidmatgar or butler,
who had accompanied me, produced from the recesses
of his tiffin basket a most acceptable breakfast, cold
cnicken and other delicacies, to be washed down by
Liebfrauenmilch, and a No. 1 Trichinopoli by way of a
digestive, whilst he appeased his own appetite with a
draught of cool water from his lotah. After this
important operation, which took place under the
friendly shade of a large mango tree, I strolled through
the town, consisting of fine broad streets and neat
little houses, all decorated with yellow and white
stripes, and carved pillars supporting the verandah;
here the natives sat in groups weaving silk and cotton.
There were no beggars or other disagreeable sights so
common in Indian towns ; all was clean and pleasant
to the eye, and the people seemed happy and content.
Of the old town, which a thousand years ago had been
the capital of the once powerful kingdom of Chola,
during its short existence of 150 years, not a vestige
remains, excepting its religious monuments. The day
was oppressively hot, and I had to walk quite a mile
in one direction, and twice that in another, to the
celebrated temples. They are the largest I have so
far seen, and no one ought to leave the Presidency
without paying them a v isit; but strange enough I
have met very few travellers who had even heard of
their existence.
The first I came to, dedicated to Seva, was built
between the tenth and twelfth century, the most
renowned period of the Chalukyas dynasty, which
latter, with its capital, Kullianee, about forty miles