While sewing sandals : or, Tales of a Telugu pariah tribe

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

GIFT OF
HORACE W. CARPENTIER

WHILE SEWING
SANDALS

/

1

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'W^^#^

"■\^\

MADIGAS SEWING SANDALS.

\Fro7iiispiece.

While Sewing Sandals
Or Tales of a Telugu Pariah

Tribe if ^ By EMMA

RAUSCHENBUSCH-CLOUGH Ph.D Member
of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain
and Ireland i( if if

LONDON HODDER AND
STOUGHTON -»i -^ 27
PATERNOSTER ROW 1899

Sarpentier

ButUrb' Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frame, and London

ThCc

To

MY FATHER
Professor A. Rauschenbusch D.D

WHO HAS PASSED ON TO ME THE HERITAGE OF

ANCESTORS WHO SOUGHT AND SUFFERED

FOR TRUTH THIS STORY OF A TELUGU

PARIAH TRIBE IN SEARCH

FOR TRUTH IS AFFECTION-

ATELY INSCRIBED

M860D35

Preface

Many a day I passed with a group of Madigas
before me, listening to their legends, hearing
about their cults. I received glimpses of life in
the Indian village community, and I felt the
heart-beat of the religious life of the common
people of India.

The Madigas are among the humblest and
most despised of the Pariahs of Southern India.
They are the leather workers in the Telugu
country. For centuries they have tanned hides,
sewed sandals, prepared leather buckets for the
wells of the Sudras, and made trappings for
their bullocks. And all their search for truth was
carried on while sewing sandals with their hands.

I have described what I heard from them.
In some respects I found myself on untrodden
ground. With regard to the Matangi cult, the
Chermanishta sect, the cult called Perantalu, and
the several Reform sects which came to my
notice, I cannot quote the researches of others
in corroboration of that which I found among
the people.

viii PREFACE

The story of the mass - movement toward
Christianity has, I trust, retained in its English
rendering some of the quaintness, the distinct
originality, that was so fascinating to me, when
I heard it from my Madiga friends. Many of
them I had known for seventeen years. Memory
carried me sufficiently far back to make their
reminiscences seem very real and lifelike.

It was my intention not' to draw on the fund
of information gathered in hearing my husband.
Rev. J. E. Clough, D.D., tell of the early days at
Ongole. I wanted to put myself into the place
of the Madigas, and to see the situation with
their eyes. My husband's side of the story,
therefore, still remains to be told.

I am grateful to him and to several friends in
India, who furnished me with opportunity to
meet Madigas living at a distance, whose me-
mories were stored with tales of the Telugu
Pariah tribe, to which they belonged. A Eurasian
gentleman in Ongole helped me in gathering
legends direct from the people. In my search in
libraries in India and in London I have been
most courteously aided, and from several members
of the Royal Asiatic Society I have received
valuable suggestions. All this I would gratefully
acknowledge. E. R. C.

London, 1899.

CONTENTS

A HISTORY NOT WRITTEN IN BOOKS

1 An Ancient Tribe .

2 Traditions of a Tribal Head

3 The King of the Matangas .

4 Scattered and in Servitude .

5 Transformed into a Buffalo

ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

1 The Curse of Arundhati

2 The Initiation of a Matangi

3 The Matangi in Legends and Stories.

4 The Fiend Mahalakshmi

5 Secret Meetings and Midnight Orgies

CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

1 A Search for Truth

2 Six Gurus in Succession

3 The Silence of Ramaswami .

PAGE

I

13

21

31

45

S3

62

77
90

103

113
130
141

X

CONTENTS

PAGE

FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

1 Nasriah the Reformer 157

2 Longing to See God 167

3 His Mother's Curse 183

BATTLE-GROUND FOR TWO RELIGIONS

1 Through much Tribulation . . . .201

2 Not Peace, but a Sword . . . .218

3 The Persecutor and His End . . . 247

THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

1 A Great Calamity 271

2 A Modern Pentecost 285

3 Conclusion 302

REFERENCES .311

INDEX 315

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Madigas Sewing Sandals .... Frontispiece

Buffaloes Bathing in a Tank 49

The Matangi, her Attendant, and the Bainundu . 70
Mahalakshmi and her Attendants . . . -91

A Hindu Guru 144

Idol Worship 164

Madigas with their Drums 215

Poleramah and her Brother 250

Famine-stricken Christians 274

A HISTORY NOT WRITTEN
IN BOOKS

An Ancient Tribe
Traditions of a Tribal Head
The King of the Matangas
Scattered and in Servitude
Transformed into a Buffalo

W.s.S.

AN ANCIENT TRIBE

When it came to pass, twenty years ago, in the
town of Ongole, in Southern India, that ten thou-
sand Madigas turned to Christianity in one year,
there was questioning as to the causes of this
movement. Devout minds saw in the baptism of
two thousand two hundred and twenty-two in one
day a modern Pentecost, and were filled with
wonder and gratitude.

Others enquired with interest concerning ac-
companying circumstances and conditions, and
when they heard of the famine which immediately
preceded this movement toward Christianity, they
were satisfied that they had here the moving
cause. The desire to enter upon the experience
of the Christian was considered to stand in
direct proportion to the hunger that was gnawing.
But the mass movement toward Christianity con-
tinued long after the famine was over. Sixty

4 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

thousand Madigas are to-day counted as Christians.
The Madiga community of a part of the Telugu
country has become Christianized.

During the months which I spent in h'stening to
tales of this Telugu Pariah tribe, both from Chris-
tians and non-Christians, I ever kept in mind the
questions that might be asked by those who looked
upon this Pentecostal event in modern missions
from different standpoints. I looked for traces of
a direct manifestation of God's Spirit upon the
minds of men, and I found them. At the same
time I was on the alert to detect the special
features of environment that made a mass move-
ment toward Christianity possible. I found these
also.

The methods of historical criticism are singular-
ly inadequate when they approach the phenomenon
of God's Spirit working in the hearts and minds
of a multitude of men. Reason, with its limited
range of comprehension, cannot analyze, differen-
tiate and explain that which belongs to the
realm of faith. God's power is there. He whose
faith delights in the sublime mysteries of God
is satisfied to know that God's presence is

AN ANCIENT TRIBE 5

manifest. But he also who sets aside the super-
natural, because beyond the reach of analysis and
criticism, and looks upon this movement among
the Madigas from the sociological standpoint, will
find that after he has reckoned with each factor
of environment, an unknown factor still remains,
and this factor is the divine power inherent in
the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Much seemed to me explained when I found
that the nucleus of the Ongole Mission was
formed by men who, long years before the mission-
ary came to Ongole, had become dissatisfied with
the cults of the Madiga village, and had carried
on a search for truth by listening to the teaching
of Hindu Gurus. They took the first step out of
polytheism into theism by learning from their Yogi
teachers that there is one God and that He is
spirit. This represented spiritual gain of a high
order. But what was more valuable than this,
perhaps, was the receptive attitude, the thirst
which could not be quenched. When the Gospel
of Jesus Christ came to these men, there was a
gratitude in their hearts that formed a tremendous
impetus toward Christian activity.

6 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

Another condition which I found had largely
affected the movement toward Christianity among
the Madigas was their strong family cohesion.
During the course of many centuries, through
famines, pestilence and warfare that swept over
the land, the Madigas have retained their distinct-
ness as a tribe. We see them to-day, despised as
Pariahs, yet forming a unit among the many other
units which comprise the social life of India.
They preserve their traditions ; they have a cult
which is distinctively a Madiga cult ; they even
have their own village jurisdiction on a tribal basis.

In going back to the earliest days of the Ongole
Mission, I found several centres from which the
influence radiated, and they were family centres.
The man who first brought the tale of the strange
new religion had to be identified as belonging to
such and such Madiga family ; he was invited to
the evening meal, and the family listened to him as
a family in the hours of the night. There was
family deliberation as to whether this religion was
true and right, and the family stood together to
meet the petty persecutions that followed so surely
in many a case.

AN ANCIENT TRIBE 7

There were men also who met Jesus Christ in the
way, alone, and went home to face the hard ordeal
that falls to him who is cast off by his family as a
heretic, as a promulgator of a strange new religion.
These men were determined that their families
must come with them. They went to distant
relations ; they journeyed to reason with the con-
nections of the wife. The sense of family cohesion
was so strong upon them, the thought that they
might lead a separate life henceforth seemed un-
natural and scarcely to be entertained.

Family cohesion was the channel through which
spiritual truth spread rapidly. It was also the
channel that carried precepts directed toward up-
lifting of a social nature. When the Sudras saw
how Christianity proved in the case of the Madigas
a power to make life on earth more wholesome
and clean, they considered it social redemption of
a tribal nature. They said : " This religion has
come to them. It would be well for us also if a
religion came to us that would educate our children
and make us respected." Christianity found in
tribal characteristics a powerful ally.

The Madigas are without doubt a very ancient

8 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

tribe. It is possible that they are among the
aboriginal tribes of Southern India who are de-
scendants of the Kolarian race, a very rude and
primitive race, which may have occupied India
previous to the advent of the Dravidians. It is
also possible that there were several migrations of
Dravidian tribes. Perhaps the Madigas were
among the earliest of the Dravidian invaders, but
yet of the same stock. In support of this hy-
pothesis I would point to the fact that the legends
and cults of the Madigas bear the family resem-
blance of Dravidian tribes, and that in their
hamlets the same self-government exists, on a
small scale, which marked the ancient Dravidian
village community. I have not found proof of
equal weight to support the theory that they are
of pre-Dravidian racial affinity.

If scholars were agreed concerning the racial
origin of the Dravidians, we might proceed to
assign to the Madigas their place in the human
family. But we meet with conflicting theories.
Both Blumenbach and Haeckel, the one by the
characteristics of the skull, the other by the struc-
ture of the hair, find that the Dravidians are

AN ANCIENT TRIBE 9

neither Caucasian nor Mongolian, but have their
place between the two races. According to
Haeckel's hypothesis, the Dravidians advanced
into India from the south, from that continent
Lemuria, which he considers man's primeval
home, now sunk below the surface of the Indian
Ocean. Dr. Logan finds an Indo-African element
in the Dravidian physiognomy, and supposes that
a negro race overspread India before the arrival
of the Scythians. Dr. Caldwell applies the phi-
lological test He claims that the Dravidians
came from the north, because vestiges of Dra-
vidian dialects mark the pathway. A Scythian
invasion preceded the Aryan invasion. The Dra-
vidian dialects bear distinct affinity to the Scythian
group of languages. He argues, therefore, that
the Dravidians are of Scythian race. The racial
origin of the Dravidians is not yet ultimately settled.
Concerning the Indo-Aryans, scholars are agreed
that they are of Caucasian race, pure and simple.
They are the Sanscrit-speaking branch of the
Indo-Germanic races, and entered India from the
north, perhaps about the year 3CXX) B.C. Wars and
conquests marked their course in Northern India.

10 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

The ancient Rishis in the hymns of the Rig Veda
praise the Vedic god of battle : " Thou, O Indra,
hast with thy weapon smitten the mouthless
Dasyus ; in the battle thou hast pierced the im-
perfect-speaking people."

When, at a later period, their southward pro-
gress began, they had neither weapons in their
hands nor appeals to Indra on their lips. They
employed the arts of peace. Aryan hermits
settled in the southern forests, and became the
friends and instructors of the Dravidians. Pre-
vious to this contact between Aryans and Dra-
vidians we have no means of knowing anything
about the ancient Dravidians.

They were evidently not to be despised by the
proud Aryans, for they had considerable resources.
Governed by kings, they lived in fortified cities,
fought with weapons, and possessed much wealth.
Four cognate languages were spoken by the Dra-
vidians, the Tamil, Telugu, Canarese and Malay-
alim. It is doubtful whether they had a literature
anterior to Aryan influences. In abstract ideas
they were deficient, but for every other range of
ideas their languages afforded ample means of

AN ANCIENT TRIBE ii

expression. They were a practical people. The
Aryan colonists were compelled to acquire the
Dravidian dialects and to content themselves by in-
troducing Sanscrit terms into the local vernaculars.

In their social organization the two races
differed widely. Among the Aryans of the north
the caste system was already developed when their
colonists began to migrate to the south. The
only distinction known to the Dravidians was
that of high and low, patricians and plebeians, as
is found in all primitive communities. The Aryans
had their strong Brahminical hierarchy, while the
priests of the Dravidians were self-created, re-
spected according to their skill in magic and
sorcery. The Aryans burned their dead ; their
widows were not allowed to re-marry ; they ab-
horred the eating of flesh and the spilling of blood.
The Dravidians, on the other hand, buried their
dead ; their widows re-married ; they ate flesh of
all kinds, and no ceremony could take place with-
out the excessive use of strong drink and the
spilling of blood.

When the two races first came in contact there
seems to have been antagonism in religious lines.

12 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

The Brahminical settlers complained in the ex-
aggerated language of the East concerning "the
faithless creatures that inject frightful sounds into
the ears of the faithful and austere eremites."
Hiding in the thickets adjoining the hermitages,
" these frightful beings delighted in terrifying the
devotees." At the time of sacrifice they came and
snatched away the jars, the flowers and the fuel,
they cast away the sacrificial ladles and vessels,
and polluted with blood the cooked oblations and
offerings.

The mingling of tribes and races and the fusion
of cults and religious systems which constitute
modern Hinduism was then in its infancy. The
Madigas were there and bore their part. With
their Matangi cult they reach far back into anti-
quity. Leather-workers by occupation, they are
among the lowest of the Pariah tribes. Yet the
social and religious customs found among them
to-day have their root in the India of thousands
of years ago. The first contact between Chris-
tianity and this ancient tribe must, therefore, be
of a unique character.

TRADITIONS OF A TRIBAL HEAD

The Madigas proudly point to Adijambuvu as
their great ancestor. He was the " grandfather of
the Madigas," who was created "six months before
the world began." This places Adijambuvu as to
time, for in India "the world began" when the
Aryans made their conquests, and this man, who
was " the first Madiga," was one of those who were
in possession of the soil when the invaders came.

Now Adijambuvu was very great. No matter
what Rama wanted to do about war, he first went
and asked him, as patriarchal head, for his advice,
and then did what he said. Though of high
estate when the Aryans first came in contact with
the sons of the soil, the day of humiliation came
to Adijambuvu. He fell from his height.

There was in those days a cow, called Kama-
dhenu, for she was the " cow of plenty." A boy,
whose name was Vellamanu, tended the cow, and

13

14 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

she gave much milk. Adisakti, the primeval
energy worshipped by the aborigines, permitted
the gods to drink the milk of Kamadhenu.

The boy, Vellamanu, desired exceedingly to
taste of the milk. But the gods said : " You shall
not by any means partake of it." He would not
rest satisfied. One day he lay down as if sick.
By stealth he took the pot from which the gods
had drunk the milk, poured water into it and
drank it. He said to himself: " If the milk tastes
so good, how must the meat taste ? " Kama-
dhenu became aware of his evil intentions. At
the very thought that any one should desire to eat
her flesh, her spirit departed, and she fell dead.

The gods heard what had happened. They
came to the spot and found Kamadhenu dead.
What should be done ? They went to Adijam-
buvu and said : " You are the greatest among us.
You must divide her into four parts." He did so.
One part he retained for himself, one part was
given to Brahma, one to Vishnu, and one to Siva.
They took their parts and went away.

Ere long the gods came back and said, " We
must have the cow again." They brought their

TRADITIONS OF A TRIBAL HEAD 15

three parts, and called for Adijambuvu's part.
But the boy, Vellamanu, had meantime cut off a
piece and was boiling it. As it bubbled in the
pot a particle of the meat rose with the bubbles
and fell into the fire. He took it up, blew against
it, so that the moisture in his breath touched the
meat, and put it back into the pot.

Adijambuvu took his part of the cow, and with
the other three parts proceeded to create a new
cow. But, alas ! the flesh that had been boiled
and breathed upon could not be replaced. Kama-
dhenu was not as before. Loose skin was hang-
ing down from her chin, the flesh that had formerly-
filled it was gone. She was reduced in every way.
From her proud stature of two heads, four horns,
eight feet and two tails she dwindled down to
the present size of the cow.

The gods said, "Adijambuvu has to come
down from his height and be beneath us." Thus
the day of his humiliation began. He dug him-
self a well, and the boy, Vellamanu, dug another,
for caste difference rose between them.

Such is the legend of the " grandfather of the
Madigas." But who was the boy, Vellamanu,

i6 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

whose interference had so great an effect ? There
is among the Pariahs a priestly caste called the
Valluvas, who preserve to this day, with great
faithfulness, a species of learning that is akin to
the priestly lore of Brahmin sages. Vestiges of
Sanscrit learning are found among them, which
point back to a time when the Aryan hermits
were on friendly terms with the aboriginal tribes,
willing to teach them. It seems when the days
of separation and caste feeling came, the Valluvas
formed the link between the old and the new.

The boy, Vellamanu, had milk to offer to the
gods. Adisakti regarded the gods with favour and
allowed them to drink, for the Aryans partook of
the cults of the aborigines ; they imbibed aboriginal
ideas. But when the boy, Vellamanu, would share
the drink of the gods, he showed himself unworthy.
The lust of meat filled his mind. It was the old
bitter contention between Aryan and Dravidian,
because the latter eat flesh, that wrought the
change in the early friendly relations. The cause
of the change was social incompatibility.

I searched in books for a trace of Adijambuvu,
and found several references where he is taken

TRADITIONS OF A TRIBAL HEAD 17

out of the region of the legendary, and trans-
planted through his descendants into our own
times. There is among the Madigas of the
Canarese country a priestly tribe, called Jambu,
who never intermarry with the laity, and live
entirely on their contributions. A high priest,
whose office is hereditary, takes frequent rounds
through the country, collecting money and ad-
monishing his followers. It is not difficult to
frame the supposition that the tribal head in time
became the priestly head. As the tribe scattered,
the priestly hierarchy was not sufficiently powerful
to make itself felt among the portions of the tribe
that had migrated to some distance. Two sub-
divisions of the Madigas mentioned in the census,
the Jambava and Jambavanta, may be direct
descendants of Adijambuvu.

The legend said the " grandfather of the Madi-
gas " was the respected adviser of Rama in
matters of war. I turned to the Ramayana, the
great Sanscrit epic, to find a trace of him there.
The poet speaks of " Jambavan, chief of the
bears," who is probably Adijambuvu, the first
Madiga. Decked out in poetical garb, to har-

W.S.S. 2

i8 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

monize with the other heroic figures, Jambavan is
honourably mentioned, and his opinions are re-
corded at length.

The poet of the Ramayana sought a picturesque
effect by naming the hosts, who helped Rama
in war, by their totems. Possibly the hosts of
monkeys and bears worshipped these animals.
But since Dravidian dynasties had animals as
their devices, the Gheras an elephant, the Pallavas
a tiger, it seems probable that the tribe of Jam-
bavan had the bear as a device and was named
by the poet accordingly. The forest Dandaka
extended probably from Bundelkhand south to
the Krishna River. The army of Rama was thus
gathered in the region where the Madigas to-day
are scattered.

Rama, the hero of the Ramayana^ was a prince of
the house of Gudh. He was sent into exile, and
after dismissing his charioteer on the confines of
civilization, he entered the great forest Dandaka.
Sita, the faithful wife of Rama, a beautiful type
of the Aryan woman, accompanied him, and bore
contentedly the hardships of life in the jungle for
love of her husband. But Ravana, King of the

TRADITIONS OF A TRIBAL HEAD 19

Rakshasas, who dwelt on the island of Lanka,
Ceylon of to-day, came and carried her away.
Rama, distracted with grief, called upon the chief-
tains of the powerful tribes of the country to aid
him in the rescue of Sita. Sugriva of the mon-
key host was his most powerful ally. But there
were others also, conspicuous among them Jam-
bavan, chief of the bears.

A great army of combined forces is soon on its
way, bent on the rescue of Sita. As they travel
south, they reach the sea, and behold ! On the
other side is Lanka, where the wicked Ravana has
imprisoned Sita, the beautiful wife of Rama.
The powerful hosts of monkeys stand on the shore
of the sea, and as they realize that they must
bound over the deep, they waver.

They are addressed by Sugriva, the great
general of the army : " Ye hosts of monkeys,
unfold your respective powers in bounding ! "
There are rejoinders from several, but no one
offers to perform so great a feat of valour.

Finally Jamba van speaks forth : " Formerly my
prowess in leaping was great. But I have waxed
old, and my vigour sits feebly upon me." He

20 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

cannot undertake the leap, but when the com-
mander proposes to go before all, " the exceed-
ingly wise Jambavan " tells him that the dignity
of the master bids him order his servants to go,
but not to stoop to obey an order which he him-
self had given. His advice prevails, and ulti-
mately " the highly heroic monkey Hanuman " is
convinced that it is due to his courage and repu-
tation that he should be the first to undertake the
leap.

With a display of much strategy and valour,
Sita is rescued from the palace of the powerful
Ravana, who, with his host of Rakshasas, is laid
low.

All other legends concerning the Madigas con-
tain the element of degradation, of subordination.
" Jambavan, chief of the bears," and Adijambuvu
too, in his original state, stand high. No one
looks down upon them. In their primitive great-
ness they hold their own. Alas for the heavy
lines that were drawn to mark their descendants
as outcasts !

THE KLNG OF THE MATANGAS

If the Madigas were once a tribe, with their
tribal chief at the head, renowned in legendary
and poetical stories, it would seem probable that
somewhere in authentic historical records there
should be some mention of them. But not a trace
of them is to be found anywhere that could be
called historically beyond a doubt.

This, however, is not surprising. The Dravidi-
ans had no literature previous to the time when
Aryan hermits settled among them and reduced
their languages to writing. Had the learned sages
taken an interest in writing chronicles, and put-
ting on record their experiences in dealing with
the tribes among whom they had settled, ancient
Indian history would not to-day offer so large a
field to conjectures and suppositions. The learn-
ing of the Aryans was expended on religious and
metaphysical writings, on their law-books and the

21

22 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

two great Sanscrit epics. Much of historical in-
formation may be gleaned from these sources, but
it must be accepted with some reserve, for re-
ligious motive and poetical license are not con-
ducive to an impartial statement of events.

Yet the ancient inhabitants of India were not
without the very human desire to be remembered
by their descendants. They sought a way which
seemed to them the most permanent to hand
down to posterity a record of their deeds. On
stone tablets and copper plates, on monumental
stones, the pedestals of idols, and on the walls
and pillars of temples they engraved their names
their victories, and the defeat of their enemies.
The student gleans from this source a history of
dynasties and other bare facts of history which
are, to a degree, trustworthy.

If a record of the Madigas, as a tribe among
other tribes, could be found in an inscription, it
would at once take their history out of the region
of the merely conjectural and legendary and place
it on a somewhat firm foundation. I thought I
had found a record of this kind. It dates back
to the year 634 A.D., when Mangalisa, a king of

THE KING OF THE MATANGAS 2q

o

the Chalukya dynasty, conquered the Katach-
churis, one of the early Dravidian dynasties.

The inscription is engraved on a stone tablet
let into the outside of the wall of a temple at
Aihole in the Canarese country, and contains the
following sentence : " His younger brother Man-
galisa, whose horses were picketed on the shores of
the oceans of the east and the westj and who
covered all the points of the compass with a canopy
through the dust of his armies^ becarne king.
Having with hundreds of scintillating torches^
which were swordsy dispelled the darkness^ which
was the race of the Matangas, in the bridal pa-
vilion of the field of battle^ he obtained as his wife
the lovely woman who was the goddess of the for-
tunes of the Katachchuris."

As to whether there is a reference to the
ancestors of the Madigas in the above sentence
depends on the interpretation of the word
Matanga. The word has several meanings. It
may signify a " tribe of the lowest caste."
Scholars agree that the term Madiga is derived
from the ancient term Matanga. Moreover, there
is a large sub-division of the Madigas called

24 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

Matangi. And the Madigas of the Canarese
country call themselves Matangi-Makkalu^ which
means " children of Matangi."

But the word may also signify " an elephant."
Eighteen years ago Mr. Fleet, who found the
inscription and deciphered it, interpreted it as
" some aboriginal family of but little real power."
In a revision of his work, a few years ago, he
says, " Examining the verse again, I consider
that the components of it are connected in such
a way that the word Matanga must be taken to
denote ' the elephants of the Katachchuris.' " Thus
the supposition that the Madigas were meant in
the inscription is rendered very doubtful.

There is nothing left to do but to turn to
traditions, to prize the legends that afford some
clue to the understanding of social and political
developments. In India, where memory is trained
to an unusual degree of retentiveness, and fathers
pass on to their sons what they, in turn, had heard
from their fathers, legendary accounts are trusted
to a greater degree than elsewhere. Professional
singers, too, go about among the people and
entertain them with poetical accounts of the

THE KING OF THE MATANGAS 25

happenings of bygone days. And thus the past
reaches over into the present, and is kept from
being utterly forgotten.

Some highly poetical accounts are to be found
in Sanscrit stories concerning a king of the
Matangas. They give a glimpse of the attitude
of the Aryans toward the aborigines. And
though the descriptions are in the exaggerated
language of the East, they givQ the leading
characteristics of an uncultured, aboriginal tribe.

Thus a Sanscrit author, Banabhatta, who lived
about the year 606 A.D., describes in the story of
Kadambari^ the leader of the Cabaras, Matanga
by name, as follows : " He was yet in early
youth ; from his great hardness he seemed made
of iron ; he had thick locks curled at the ends
and hanging on his shoulders ; his brow was
broad ; his nose was stern and aquiline ; he had
the heat warded off by a swarm of bees, like a
peacock-feather parasol."

As the young leader, Matanga, approaches with
his followers, who, as the poet says, numbered
many thousands, they seemed " like a grove of
darkness disturbed by sunbeams ; like the fol-

26 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

lowers of death roaming ; like the demon world
that had burst open hell and risen up ; like a
crowd of evil deeds come together ; like a caravan
of curses of the many hermits dwelling in the
Dandaka Forest." Such, to the Brahmin poet,
was the terrible aspect of the wild throng.

And then in his exhaustive description he
characterizes them much as a proud Brahmin to-
day, with a shrug of the shoulder, might give his
opinion concerning the outcaste Madiga : " Their
meat, mead, and so forth, is a meal loathed by the
good ; their exercise is the chase ; their Shastra is
the cry of the jackal ; their bosom friends are
dogs." A wild, aboriginal tribe these followers of
Matanga were ! Beyond this the poet discloses
nothing.

Again we come upon a king of the Matangas in
a volume of Sanscrit tales. They were compiled
by Somadeva Bhatta, who lived about the year
1 125 A.D. He states that he used an older and
larger collection of tales in writing his Ocean of
the Stremjis of Story ^ thus placing the date of the
action of the tales centuries previous to his com-
pilation.

THE KING OF THE MATANGAS 27

He tells the marvellous tale of Durgapisacha,
" the demon of the stronghold," whose aid is
sought by a noble king and his ministers in
accomplishing a certain quest. This chief of the
Matangas is of terrible valour. Kings cannot
conquer him. He commands a hundred thousand
bowmen of that tribe, every one of whom is fol-
lowed by five hundred warriors. When King
Migrankadatta looked upon the country of the
Matangas, he said to his ministers : " See ! these
men live a wild forest-life like animals, and yet,
strange to say, they recognise Durgapisacha as
their king. There is no race in the world without
a king ; I do believe the gods introduced this
magical name among men in their alarm, fearing
that otherwise the strong would devour the weak,
as great fishes eat the little."

Now when the King of the Matangas heard the
wish of King Migrankadatta, he assured him that
it was a small matter to accomplish, and politely
adds, " Our lives were originally created for your
sake." The stranger was a man of high caste,
yet he sought to please the chiefs who were
willing to serve him. " He even went so far as

28 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

to make the King of the Matangas eat in his
presence, though at a Httle distance from him."
Thus, though powerful, and in a position to ren-
der valuable aid, there was a very definite line
of division between the noble Aryan Rajah and
the head of this aboriginal tribe.

As the tales proceed we are told of a Chandala
maiden, "who surpassed with the loveliness of
her face the moon, its enemy." A noble prince
beholds her as she charms into submissiveness
an elephant, that was roaming at large and killing
many men. He goes home to his palace, "his
bosom empty, his heart having been stolen from
it by her." His parents inquire for the maiden,
and learn that she is the daughter of Matanga,
King of the Chandalas. The queen, his mother,
asks, " How comes it that our son, though born
in a royal family, has fallen in love with a girl
of the lowest caste ? " She is told that the
maiden is probably of a higher caste, and for
some reason has fallen among the Matangas.
Several stories follow to support this theory.

A messenger is sent to the King of the
Matangas, who approves, but demands that eigh-

THE KING OF THE MATANGAS 29

teen thousand Brahmins must first eat in his
house. The god Siva had pronounced a curse
on him that his lot should be cast among the
Matangas until eighteen thousand Brahmins had
been fed in his house, when he should again be
restored to his former position in a higher caste.
The Brahmins were persuaded in a dream to go
and eat. They expressed their willingness to do
so, but demanded that the food be cooked out-
side the quarter of the Chandalas, for then only
could they eat. The curse of Siva was removed,
and the prince married the maiden, now of high
degree.

Weighed down by Brahminical inventions and
exaggerations as these stories are, they are not
without touches that seem true to life. King
Migrankadatta, as he reflects on the desire of
men, though they live like the animals of the
forest, to recognise some one as king, does not
seem to distinguish between the Aryan concep-
tion of a king and the tribal chieftainship of
the aborigines. King Durgapisacha had not the
power of the Aryan Rajah to levy taxes, to de-
cide matters of life and death, and to live in

30 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

isolated splendour. As chief of the tribe of the
Matangas he probably had the best and largest
holding of land, with servants and a suitable
retinue. He lead his tribe in warfare. On mat-
ters of administration he consulted the heads of
families.

King Durgapisacha, rendered somewhat stilted
and unnatural by Brahminical interpretation, yet
bears resemblance to Adijambuvu, the grand-
father of the Madigas.

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE

Various causes may have worked together to
scatter the tribe of the Matangas and to give
to their descendants a home on the outskirts
of the villages throughout the Telugu country.
There were probably inter-tribal wars in an-
cient times. Subjugated by some stronger tribe,
the Madigas may have been forced into servi-
tude by the rights of warfare. On the other
hand, the search for occupation may have been
the motive that led to emigration, until the old
tribal home was forgotten.

Only in faint outlines can a picture of ancient
India be drawn, as it was before the Indo-
Aryan appeared, who introduced gradually but
surely a new order of society. Vestiges of the
customs of the ancient Dravidian village com-
munity still remain. They form a clue to the
primitive state of society in which caste-distinc-

31

32 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

tion was unknown, where all worked together to
meet the needs of the community, and none
were despised as outcasts.

The territory of Southern India was prob-
ably divided among Dravidian clans, or tribes,
who had their chiefs and their tribal constitution.
The members of the clans settled in groups,
forming villages, that they might aid each other,
for tigers and other wild animals of the jun-
gles were plentiful, and there were clannish wars
that called for united resistance. Each village
sought to maintain its interests and provide for
its simple wants. There was division of labour,
and, in turn, each family received an allotment
of land, or was paid in kind, so that all had
enough.

The hereditary head-man, a distinctively origi-
nal feature of the Dravidian village system, and
the prototype of the Munsiff of to-day, was giv^n
the best and largest holding of land in the vil-
lage. For the worship of the deity there was a
similar provision. The village craftsmen and
menials were not paid by the job ; they w^ere
given a small holding of land rent free, or they

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 33

received a given number of sheaves of corn or
measures of grain. In the simple village com-
munity the leather worker was probably a re-
spected artisan. He had his rights and they
were respected ; for the arrangements of the
community were made on the principle of mu-
tual service.

But the time came when great Dravidian
kingdoms arose in the extreme southern part of
the peninsula. Conquests were made. There
were petty Rajahs at first, until all were subju-
gated by a powerful dynasty. The villages now
became tributary to some central government,
which levied taxes and demanded tribute. New
features were introduced into the Dravidian vil-
lage. The head-man, with his old tribal author-
ity and small magisterial power, was over-
shadowed by a kind of second head-man, the
Karnam of to-day, who was necessarily literate,
and could keep accounts and make out statis-
tical returns. The days of simple wants met in
simple ways were over.

Gradually the influence of the Aryan colonists
began to make itself felt. The primitive Dra-

W.S.S. 3

34 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

vidians were filled with respect when they saw
the intellectual superiority of the Brahminical
hermits who settled in their forests. They be-
came pupils, and looked up to them as masters.
With a natural curiosity and interest they must
liave listened to the stories told by the strangers
in their midst concerning the northern country
whence they had come. They heard of the feats
of valour performed by the warlike Kshatriyas,
the rulers of the north. Vaisya traders came
among them, representing the third caste of the
twice-born Aryan.

There was a fourth caste in the north, the
Sudra caste, composed of the Aryan servants
and some of the more civilized aboriginal races
who had been conquered by the invaders. The
free, unconquered Dravidians of the south stood
far above the Sudras of the north. Yet, by some
process, not unsupported probably by the talent
of the Brahmins for flattery and intrigue, the
Dravidians did not regard in the light of dis-
honour the place accorded to them as Sudras
in the scale of caste-distinction.

For the Madigas there was no place within

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 35

the pale of the Indian caste-system. In the
primitive Dravidian village it was probably a
matter of amicable settlement that the leather
workers should live together in a group of houses
on the outskirts of the village. Not until the
harsh lines of the Aryan caste-system were
drawn was the group of dwellings transformed
into the hovels of the outcast. And the rulers
of the land demanded service of the Madigas
under provisions closely resembling slavery.

The condition of the Madiga community has
probably changed more during the past thirty V
years under British rule than during many cen-
turies previous to the influence of Western civili-
zation. Old men have told me of conditions
which had undoubtedly been in force since time
immemorial, of which their sons knew nothing
by experience. A glimpse of the life of the
Madiga in the Indian village community, thirty y

years ago, furnishes, therefore, a link to the past
all the more valuable because the ancient lines
are fast disappearing.

In the old days, when there were petty Rajahs,
tributary to some powerful dynasty, it happened

36 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

occasionally that the Rajah or his minister, the
Dewan, came to visit his domain. It was con-
venient for them, at such times, to find every-
thing provided for them in the places where
they halted. The potter was expected to provide
pots ; the washermen's service was required ; the
Munsiff brought eggs and milk ; and the whole
village drew on its resources. In turn for this
service, the Rajah made grants of land to each
according to the value of the service required of
him on such occasions. To the Madigas fell the
lot of being the burden-bearers ; for, when roads
were few and often impassable, the camp-bag-
gage was placed upon the Yettis, to be borne
from place to place. They, too, received a grant
of land, seldom, it seems, more than four acres ;
and it yielded but little, for the Madigas had
not the bullocks to plough, nor the time to
watch their growing crops.

Moreover, Yetti-service was not confined to the
time when the Rajah came, or when he sent his
Dewan ; those in authority could at any time
demand the service of the Yettis, and it was
always service without pay. When the Karnam

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 37

came to a village to collect the tax for the
Rajah, the Yettis had to stand at the entrances of
the village and see that neither man nor cattle
went out. After the tax had been gathered, the
money was tied into the scant clothing of the
Yetti, and, two together, they went long dis-
tances to deliver it at the centres of the dis-
tricts. They looked poor and ragged, and none
suspected that they had money concealed about
them. Arrived at the place of destination, they
dared not approach the Brahmin accountants
within. They stood afar off, and held the pack-
age high in their hands, till a Sudra servant
came out to deliver it to the Brahmins within,
who would have considered it pollution to
accept anything from the hands of a Madiga
direct.

There were daily recurring tasks for the Yet-
tis. They had to gather wood for fuel for the
Karnam's household. If there were letters to
carry from village to village, the Yettis were
pressed into service. If any one wanted a guide
to point the way on an untravelled road, the
Yettis were placed at his disposal. Travellers

38 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

who wanted burden-bearers made their request
to the Karnam. He furnished the Yettis, but
kept the payment for himself, giving them, at
their clamorous entreaties, a mere fraction of
what they had earned. If ever they dared to
refuse to work, they were ill-treated, their few
heads of cattle were driven to the pound, and
the misery of their condition was only increased
by their remonstrance.

Some of the petty Rajahs ordered their Kar-
nams, or Dewans, to look for able-bodied Ma-
diga men on the fields or in their huts, and to
secure them for menial service. Accordingly
they took men away from their homes, and, if
they resisted, they were treated cruelly. This
mode of procedure was resorted to especially
when a Rajah desired to dig a tank in order to
irrigate a district of land. A Madiga told me
that his father was taken away from home by
the servants of a Rajah, and forced to work on
the tank at Podili for months. They threatened
that they would beat him or bind him, if he
demurred. He received only enough to provide
himself with food while digging. To his family

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 39

there was nothing to send ; they had to shift
for themselves as best they could.

The taxes levied by the Rajahs were an addi-
tional heavy burden. After the grain had been
harvested and cleaned, and the Sudras had mea-
sured out to the Madigas the part of the harvest
that was theirs, on the principle of mutual service,
the servants of the Rajah came and put a seal
upon it. The women could not use it for cooking
until after they had paid their tax. If they
bought a cloth, about one-eighth of the cost had
to be paid as tax, and often the Rajah's servants
went to the washermen to look over the clothes,
and if any were found without the seal, they took
them away.

The relation of the Madigas to the Brahmins
was, and is, serfdom, without the relieving feature
of a paternal interest. The Sudras, on the other
hand, though they have every opportunity for
oppression, take the part of friends and protectors.
The Madiga family that does not bear to some
Sudra land-holder the relation of serf to master is
considered unfortunate, and finds it difficult to get
food sufficient to ward off starvation. The Ma-

40 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

diga serves the same Sudra family from genera-
tion to generation. When there is a marriage in
the Sudra family, the Madiga celebrates the event
by a marriage in his own hamlet. The Madiga
does not go upon a journey, nor does he enter
upon any serious undertaking, without consulting
his Sudra master. He is at the Sudra's bidding
day and night. At seedtime and harvest he is at
hand, and while the crop is growing he watches
in the field to chase away the crows in the day
and to guard against thieves in the night. In
turn for his labours he is paid, not in coin, but in
kind. The measures of grain are meted out to
him according to the plentiful or scant nature of
the harvest.

The leather-work for the Sudras is also done
on the principle of mutual service. When among
herds of cows and goats, kept by the Sudra land-
holder, a head of cattle dies, the Madigas are
called. They secure the hide, and, in turn, they
tan the leather, sew the sandals for the Sudra,
make the trappings for his bullocks, and do any
other leather-work that is required. In parts of
the country where the soil is dry and hard, the

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 41

Sudras dig deep wells in their fields and with the
help of bullocks draw the water to the surface,
where, through little channels, it irrigates the whole
field. For this purpose large leather buckets are
required, and the Madiga community finds frequent
employment in making them and keeping them
in repair.

By right of trade the Madiga secures not only
the hide of cattle, the carcase too is his. As death
is always caused by disease, never by slaughter
the flesh is poisonous and loathsome in the ex-
treme, especially in a country where decomposi-
tion is a rapid process. In this phase of their
occupation lies the beginning and the end of the
Madiga's degradation. Hungry many a day in
the year, living by the month on one meal a day,
seldom in possession of the means to buy meat
fit to eat, they do not shrink from the loathsome-
ness of the meal which is furnished them by the
carcase that is theirs by right of trade. It is this
to which their legends point as the curse with
which their tribe has been laid low. Perhaps in
the early days, when Jambuvu, " the grandfather
of the Madigas," lived, it was less difficult to ob-

42 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

tain food to quench hunger. A famine, such as is
told of in ancient records, that swept the land and
almost depopulated it, may have taught the Madi-
gas to eat the flesh that poisoned the blood in
their veins, that rendered them filthy and an ob-
ject of abhorrence to the Hindu, who is forbidden
to kill and eat flesh of any kind. And afterwards
he was unable to raise himself from abject poverty.
The Madigas are miserably poor. I enquired
into their condition in several districts, and found
that, striking an average, only one-third of the
Madiga population is above absolute want. But
the possessions of this favoured one-third, too, are
readily enumerated. Each family lives in a hut
built of stone laid in mud, and covered with thatch,
giving a room about ten feet square. By way of
furniture there are a few cots, made of a frame of
wood with twine woven across, and a few low
stools. Earthen pots, large and small, used as
cooking utensils, a few baskets, a few brass uten-
sils, a stone to pound the rice, and a roller to
grind the curry-powder complete the arrangements
of the household. There may be a cow, perhaps
a buffalo, several calves and some fowls. Each

SCATTERED AND IN SERVITUDE 43

member of the family has two suits of clothes
and a cotton sheet for covering at night. The
women have strings of beads and a little cheap
jewellery. Perhaps a bamboo box hangs from the
beam that supports the roof of the house, contain-
ing red clothes to wear when invited to festivals.
A family whose possessions are as above specified
is considered a thrifty, well-to-do Madiga family.

But two-thirds of the Madiga community have
only a portion of the above-mentioned possessions.
Cattle is lacking, there are no cots, no brass ves-
sels, no red clothes for holiday attire. A few suits
of clothes constitute the outfit of the whole family.
If any of them need to make themselves present-
able, they wear the better part of the wardrobe of
the family. Many a day in the year they go
hungry, glad if they can get a meal of boiled
grain of a kind that is cheaper even than rice,
and a little pepper-water poured over it to give
it a relish.

Crushed by serfdom, debased by poverty, the
Madigas yet uphold among them village jurisdic-
tion on a small scale. The Sudra village has its
headman, the Madiga hamlet has its Madiga chief.

44 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

He represents the Madiga village on special
occasions. If hospitality is to be extended, it is
his roof that must shelter the guest. Disputes
and quarrels are brought to him for settlement.
If public opinion in the Madiga hamlet is roused
against the misdeeds of one who has his home
in it, the Madiga headman, perhaps with several
of the older men to assist him, passes judgment,
levies a fine, or expels the evil-doer from the bor-
ders of the village. The fines pass into the hands
of the Madiga headman, as remuneration for the
expense borne in extending hospitality and the
time given to his administrative duties.

Thus, though scattered and in servitude, the
Madigas cling to their ancient tribal organization.
They submit to the Munsiff and the Karnam ;
they bend low and even cringe before those who
have authority over them. But, in their own ham-
let, they give to one of their number the dignity
of representing the interests of all. They thus
prove their affinity to the stronger Dravidian
tribes. And the tenacity of their tribal character
becomes the vehicle of civilizing and educating
forces at the present time.

TRANSFORMED INTO A BUFFALO

The Komati Chetty sits in the bazaar behind
his wares. He has baskets of grain before him.
There is a basket of tamarind, another of red
pepper. Not everything is displayed and tempt-
ingly laid out for the eyes of questioning pur-
chasers on his verandah. There is a door behind
him, which, when open, reveals bags and baskets
filled with wares stored away.

Perhaps he deals in cloth, in needles and thread
and scissors, in beads and glittering ornaments
made of paste diamonds and rubies. Ask him for
a few yards of tape, and he dives into the well-
stocked " go-down " that opens from his verandah,
pulls out a package, opens it before you and dis-
plays tapes of different widths. He brings out
fine muslin and flowered chintz, and says, " Buy,
missus, verry cheap." He even has a china pug
dog to show you, and cheap playthings that are

45

46 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

marked " Made in Germany." Ask him the
" proper price," and he mentions three times the
amount which he can justly claim. Bargain with
him, decide finally that you do not want his wares,
and he will hand them to you at a reasonable
cost.

The Komati is often a wealthy man. He has
money, and lends it at high interest. The women
go to him and buy the rice for the evening meal,
and the various spices that go to make a good
curry. Pariah women, too, must come to buy.
Sometimes the scant cooley which the family has
earned is not enough to supply food for all, though
they buy the cheapest kind of grain. Then they
go into debt with the Komati, and he keeps them
in fear and anxiety until the debt is paid.

It would not occur to any one that there could
be a connection between the wealthy, prosperous
Komati and the poor, despised Madiga if peculiar
customs did not exist that point to some kind of tie
between them. The Komatis are not pleased with
a reference to these customs. The ill-will of other
castes, they say, spreads these tales about them.

The marriage ceremonies of the Komatis are

TRANSFORMED LNTO A BUFFALO 47

generally as elaborate as their wealth will permit.
Friends and relatives are invited to sumptuous
feasts. But, though the Madiga would not be a
guest in any way desirable, he must be invited,
lest ill-fortune befall the young couple. And the
Madiga is far from coveting such an invitation ;
he considers it unlucky and insulting. Should a
Komati dare to extend it openly, his messenger
might be treated roughly at the hands of the irate
Madigas.

The Komati waits for a time when it is not
likely that the Madigas will see him. He takes
the iron vessel with which he measures the grain
and makes his way to the Madiga hamlet. Hiding
behind one of the houses, he whispers into the
vessel, " In the house of the small ones (Komatis)
a marriage is to take place ; the members of the
big house (Madigas) are to come."

But this is not sufficient. The light with which
the fire is kindled during the marriage ceremony
must come from the house of the Madiga. There
is obstinate refusal when asked. Perhaps the men
of the Madiga hamlet grow angry when they hear
of the request. Strategy must be employed,

48 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

the light which the Madiga refuses to give
must be taken from him by stealth, to satisfy
custom.

There must be some reason for these customs.
Major Mackenzie observed them even as far south
as the Mysore district, where the Madigas have
emigrated. He suggests that the connection
between two such different castes as the Madigas
and Komatis may lie in the fact that both wor-
ship the same goddess. The Komatis have as
their caste-goddess the virgin Karnika-Amma,
who destroyed herself rather than marry a prince,
because he was of another caste. She is repre-
sented by a vessel full of water, and during the
marriage ceremony is brought in state from her
temple and is placed on the seat of honour in
the house. The Madigas claim Karnika as their
goddess, under the name Matangi, and object to
seeing the Komatis take her away.

This is certainly significant, showing that there
is connection between the two castes, not only
by social customs, but also by similar religious
interests. I have heard a legend which may
throw some light on the subject. It was told

TRANSFORMED INTO A BUFFALO 49

by a Komati, and, like most Indian legends,
includes the element of the impossible.

There was once a Brahmin who, contrary to the
rules of caste, lived with a Madiga woman. He
was versed in the arts of the magician, and, by
his magic, he transformed her by day into the
body of a buffalo ; at night she was again a
woman. They had eleven children.

One day the Brahmin was called away on
urgent work. He called his children and charged
them to care for the buffalo, to untie it and take
it to the field to graze.

The children did not know of the transforma-
tion which took place every day. Thoughtlessly
they drove the buffalo before them to pasture,
and when it would not go as they wished they
beat it with a stick. But the buffalo was old
and weak. It fell down and died.

The father came home, and the children told
him that the buffalo was dead. He asked how
it died, and said : " Alas, the buffalo was your
mother ! As an expiation of your crime, go and
cut up the buffalo and eat it." The Komatis
are said to be the descendants of these children.

W.S.S. 4

50 A HISTORY NOT IN BOOKS

Once a year the Komatis shape a lump of
dough, made of rice-flour, into a four-legged
animal, to represent a buffalo. Each member
of the family takes a little of it and eats it.
This ceremony is called Nabsanimudda.

The legend and this household ceremony have
something in common. It is not impossible that
the Komatis may be of mixed descent. I looked
for information concerning them in the Manual
of Administratio7i of the Madras Presidency^ and
found that they are said to have emigrated from
some place in the north, a few authorities mention
Penoocondah, which was a place of importance
under the Vijayanagar dynasty. There is evi-
dently some doubt as to the locality from which
they have sprung, and nothing definite is known
of their origin. They claim to be purer Vaisyas
than other subdivisions of the trading-castes,
and are divided into many clans.

Neither Komatis nor Madigas are pleased with
the connection between them. Strange, therefore,
that it is so enduring.

ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

The Curse of Arundhati

The Initiation of a Matangi

The Matangi in Legends and Stories

The Fiend Mahalakshmi

Secret Meetings and Midnight Orgies

THE CURSE OF ARUNDHATI

There was once upon a time a Brahmin who
had done many evil deeds. He believed that
he could receive the expiation of all his sins if
he found a woman who had faith sufficient to
transform sand into rice. He inquired among
all castes, but nowhere was there a woman who
had this supernatural power.

Finally he came to the Madigas. Now the
maiden Arunzodi heard of his quest. She ap-
peared before him and said : " I can do it, but
I am of low birth. My father is wont to kill
cows and eat them. We are outcasts."

The Brahmin was exceedingly glad, and he
besought the maiden to grant his request, not-
withstanding her low degree. He argued with
her, but Arunzodi said, " When my elder brother

54 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

comes home and sees you, his wrath will be great,
for we eat meat."

This did not convince the Brahmin ; he insisted,
and finally Arunzodi yielded. He brought sand
and she put it into the pot. He broke iron into
small pieces, and this also she put into a pot.
She saw what she had in the two pots, but so
great was her faith, she proceeded to boil it.

With great anxiety the Brahmin stood by and
watched. When Arunzodi had finished cooking,
behold ! one of the pots contained boiled rice,
the other was full of curry. Certain that he
had found his saviour, the Brahmin asked for
Arunzodi in marriage.

But now the elder brother came home. He
was enraged when he heard what had happened,
and threatened to do violence to the Brahmin and
to Arunzodi, his sister, also. No one among the
Madigas befriended them, for all said : " She is
bringing a stranger into our households and our
caste ! Turn them out ! Away with them ! "

Then it was that Arunzodi, before the eyes of
all, rose to heaven. And she cursed them, saying :
"You shall be the slaves of all. Though you work

THE CURSE OF ARUNDHATI 55

and toil, it shall not raise your condition. Un-
clothed and untaught you shall be, ignorant and
despised from henceforth ! " Thus Arunzodi
cursed her people as she rose up, and they and
the Brahmin were left standing and gazing after
her.

The Madigas cannot forget Arunzodi. The
Dasulu often tell the story of her faith, and of
the curse with which she cursed her people, which,
alas! has been fulfilled. And as the Dasulu
recite they accompany themselves with instru-
ments.

There are other legends about Arundhati, which
is the Sanscrit form of the Telugu word Arunzodi
and means "everlasting light." One is that
Arundhati was re-born as a Madiga woman, and
married the sage Vasishta, the brother of the
great Agastya. She bore him one hundred sons,
ninety-six of whom reverted to the Pariah state,
because they disobeyed their father, while the
other four remained Brahmins. Among the
hymns of the Rig Veda there is a bridal hymn.
At the close this verse occurs: "^j Anusuya is
to Atri, as Arundhati to Vasishta, as Sati to

56 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

Kausikay so be thou to thy husband!' It is
significant that in Sanscrit dictionaries both
Arundhati and Matangi are mentioned as the
" wife of Vasishta," making the two identical.

When they have a wedding, the Madigas
specially remember Arunzodi. After one of the
Madiga Dasulu has performed the marriage rites,
as ancient custom demands, it is thought well for
the prosperity of bride and bridegroom if they,
accompanied by their friends, go out under the
starlit heaven to greet Arunzodi. Though she
may not be visible, her cot is always there, and
all can find it. The four bright stars in Ursa
Major are the feet of her cot, made of very
precious material. The three stars on one side
of the four are thieves, who are stealing three
feet of the cot, and have already pulled the cot
crooked, for the four feet form an irregular square.
And so the young couple look at the cot, and
say, " Arunzodi cannot be far away ! " They
bow and worship, for they believe that she has
power to bless.

Arunzodi is not the only Pariah woman who,
in legendary history, is vested with the power

THE CURSE OF ARUNDHATI 57

of working miracles by reason of great faith.
Very different is the story of the meek Vasugi ;
yet she too took sand and boiled it, and it be-
came rice.

Vasugi was the wife of the Tamil sage and poet
Tiruvalluvar, who, according to tradition, was a
Pariah weaver, living near Madras about looo or
1200 A.D. There was, in his day, a famous
Sanscrit Academy in Madura, to which all Tamil
scholars of that day belonged. When the Pariah
bard presented himself, with his thirteen hundred
couplets, his want of caste was made an excuse for
his exclusion. Yet down to the present day his
chief work, the Kurral, is considered by Hindus of
all classes a work of high moral and religious
worth.

To the poet Tiruvalluvar the maiden Vasugi
was offered in marriage by her father. He was
inclined to accept her, for he considered domestic
virtue the highest virtue, but resolved first to try
the maiden's gifts. "If she will take this sand,"
he said, " and boil it into rice for me, she shall be
my wife." Vasugi took the basket of sand from
his hands. She felt sure that what the holy man

58 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

ordained was possible and right. Her faith was
great. She boiled the sand, and as a virtuous
woman has power with the gods, a miracle was
wrought, and she brought the sage the rice for
which he asked. She became his faithful, obedient
wife.

The years passed, and the poet's fame spread.
Attracted thereby, a stranger came to his cottage
and asked the question so much discussed at that
time in India : " Which is greater, domestic life or
a life of asceticism ? " The sage courteously
entertained the stranger, but gave no reply to his
question. He left him to judge for himself the
nature of his domestic life. It happened, one day,
that the poet called his wife while she was drawing
water from the well. She instantly came, leaving
the bucket hanging midway in the well. Again,
when she brought him his morning meal of cold
rice, he complained that it burnt his mouth.
Without question or hesitation she began to fan
it. And when, in broad daylight, he dropped his
shuttle, while weaving, and called for a light to
seek it, she lit the lamp and brought it to him.

The stranger exclaimed : " Where such a wife is

THE CURSE OF ARUNDHATI 59

found, domestic life is best. Where such a wife is
not, the life of the ascetic is to be preferred ! "
When the meek Vasugi, the poet's wife, closed
her eyes in death, it was said of her that she had
never during her whole married life questioned
her lord's command. The character of Vasugi,
meek, gentle, humble, is in accordance with the
spirit of the Kurral, the Pariah poet's chief work.

To what extent the tradition of Vasugi was
influenced by Aryan ideals of the perfect woman
is a question. The discussion concerning the value
of asceticism speaks of Aryan rather than Dra-
vidian influence. The story of Vasugi, like that
of Arunzodi, is not free from Brahminical im-
positions. There are few legends in India that
do not bear the imprint of Brahminical extrava-
gance, and the ill-concealed effort of the twice-
born to magnify their own supremacy. A legend,
therefore, which by its simplicity and artlessness
proves its purely Dravidian origin is the more
to be prized. The following legend was taken
from the oral tradition of the Coorgs, one of
the smaller Dravidian tribes.

In ancient times there lived in the Malabar

6o ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

country six brothers and a sister. They went
together to Coorg, but the brothers were not pleased
because the sister came with them, and they
decided to spoil her caste. On the way they were
hungry, and said to the sister, " Prepare us some
food." She replied, " There is neither fire nor rice."
They said, " We will give you rice, but you must
boil it without fire." She replied, " I will boil it
without fire, but you must eat it without salt."
To this the brothers agreed.

The sister saw a cow and milked her, letting the
milk fall into the vessel of rice. Then she went to
the bank of a river, buried the pot in the sand,
and it began to boil. The brothers awoke from
their sleep and ate.

Later, while sitting together, chewing betel, they
said, "Let us see whose betel is the reddest."
They all spat out the betel into their hands, looked
at it, and the brothers threw it behind their heads.
The sister, deluded by this, threw the betel back
into her mouth and went on chewing. The
brothers now said she had lost her caste. She
was excessively grieved and wept bitterly.

One of the brothers threw an arrow, and ordered

THE CURSE OF ARUNDHATI 6i

his sister to go with it and stay where it fell. She
assumed the form of a crane and alighted on a
Pariah, working in the rice fields. He became
possessed with a devil and ran towards the mango
tree, where the arrow was sticking. A temple was
built around this tree, where the Coorgs still wor-
ship the sister of the six brothers, especially at her
annual feast.

The Coorgs, like the Tamils and Telugus, are ot
Dravidian stock. There is a family resemblance
in these three legends. In each the chief figure is
that of a woman, who, in the ordinary labour of
cooking rice, is endowed with miraculous gifts.
These legends of three Pariah women stand in a
line with the cults that are Mother-worship. The
Dravidians believe that women may come in touch
with mysterious forces, and that if they have
sufficient faith they can compel these forces to
be subservient to them.

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI

As I stepped out upon the verandah one morn-
ing, I was greeted by the salaam of my old friend,
Konikaluri Yelliah. The dazzling whiteness of
his turban emphasized the dark 'hue of the face
beneath, which beamed in expectation of the
things that were to come.

" Did you come walking all these sixty miles ? "
" How could I walk ? Am I not an old man ?
By your leave I came by bullock-bandy."
" And what have you to tell me now ? "
" Whatever you give leave, that will I tell."
This was the polite reply which I had heard
many a time. It had happened repeatedly that
my questions, far from bringing to light valuable
material, only revealed the fact that there was
nothing to draw forth. I regarded Yelliah, as he
sat facing me, as an experiment.

62

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 63

" Tell me," I said, " about the old days."

" My mother, Ammah, was a Matangi."

" And what is that ? " I asked.

" A Matangi is a Madiga woman, who is pos-
sessed by Ellama."

"And who is Ellama?"

" She is Adimata, the mother who was from the
beginning."

By this time I had straitened myself. I dipped
my pen into the ink with an air of business. I
took my note-book, and I said, " Now, Yelliah,
begin at the very beginning."

And Yelliah began far back with his great-
grandmother, who was a Matangi. His grand-
mother was not invested with the power. He was
his mother's eldest child, and when he was about
three years old something strange happened to
her. She was well, and had been going to her
work as usual, when, one Adivaramu, being the
first day of the week, after the offering of food had
been placed in the Ellama idol-house, she began
to act in a peculiar way.

She sat apart at meal-time, and refused to eat.
It was harvest-time, and for two weeks she went

64 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

to the fields as usual, but aside from the grain,
which she ate as she worked, she would not par-
take of food. The Sudras, for whom the family
worked, noticed this. The whole village began
to watch her closely, for she looked this way
and that, and laughed to herself. They said,
" What does it all mean ? "

It soon became a matter of discussion in the
community, for there were many who worshipped
Ellama. No matter whether any one was a
Sivite or a Vishnuite, he yet thought it
well to worship Ellama. When it was decided,
therefore, that a council should be called to inves-
tigate whether this woman was really invested
with the power of Ellama, a very general interest
was shown. Sudras and Brahmins came, but the
man who was head of the council was the head-
man of the Madiga village, who, as such, had the
function of entering the Ellama idol-house once
a week with offerings of milk, butter, and fruit.

The test "agreed upon was that the Bainurdu,
who is the minstrel in the Ellama sect, should
recite the story of Ellama in the presence of the
woman. If Ellama's power had come upon her,

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 65

she would dance, inspired by the goddess ; if it was
an evil spirit that possessed her, the story would
not affect her. Without loss of time the test was
made ; and as soon as the minstrel began the
young woman danced, and not only she, but her
husband and other members of the family also
danced, and thus it was evident that Ellama's
power possessed the family.

All were now convinced that they had a new
Matangi in this woman. It was considered an
event, for Matangis were rare, only one or two
in a Taluk. It was decided that an old Matangi
from an adjoining Taluk should be called to
initiate the new Matangi into the rites of the
office. The family had to bear the expense of the
initiation, about sixteen rupees, which necessitated
a debt ; but they did not hesitate, for they knew
that afterwards there would be great gain. An
atmosphere of expectancy and anticipation was
abroad in the community.

There lived a Reddi in the place, who was chief
of the Reddis, one of the branches of the Sudra
caste. Years before he had had a serpent
made, life-size, of silver, gold, copper, and various

W.S.S. 5

66 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

metals, and then he, and a number of villagers as
witnesses, had gone to Sulvesanama Kona, where
the Gundlacumma River flows through a cave, and
where there is a famous place of worship. Here
the Reddi fulfilled certain conditions, and went
through initiatory rites, for which he received a
certificate from the officiating priests. [His wife
had gone with him, and had also met all con-
ditions, so that she, too, could take a prominent
part in the worship of the snake, when, after their
return home, they were asked here and there with
the serpent.

The great day came when the old Matangi
arrived. The Madiga headman went into the
little thatch-roof house, sacred to Ellama, and
took out the pot, hung to the roof, that
contained coins and shells and other articles
emblematical of Ellama and her sons. The pot
was taken to the village-tank in the morning, and
left in the water all day, a man remaining near by
as guard. In the evening all went to take it out
of the water, worship it, and take it back to the
village. One goat was killed near the water,
another half-way to the house, and a third after

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 67

reaching the house, where the blood was painted
over the door-frame. The Reddi had brought
his serpent and placed it, with its hood spread,
where the offerings of rice could be piled up
around it.

That same night, after the serpent had been
worshipped, the old Matangi and the Reddi's
wife sat down together on the back of a goat.
It lay down with the weight, but was dragged
three times around the spot where the serpent
and all the offerings were. Instruments were
played, and the bystanders danced the wild dance
of possession. Whatever trouble or sickness there
was among the people would, it was believed, fall
upon the goat and die with it. It was half dead,
after being dragged three times around the
circle, and was then taken to one side and
killed.

On the next day all the rice and other offerings
that had been heaped around the serpent were
cooked by Sudras ; for Brahmins too were coming
to eat, and if Sudras cooked it, the caste pre-
judices of all were respected. There was a feast,
and then all returned to their own houses. The

68 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

old Matangi also went home. The new Matangi
had been passive throughout, had simply looked
on. She and her family worshipped Ellama for
one week, and then went to their work as usual.
She showed no further signs of possession. Only
when stories of Ellama' were recited, she and
others of the family began the dance.

During the year that followed the family and
others of the Madigas worked and saved, and laid
up grain, and contracted debts to meet the initi-
atory rites that were to follow. They could not
accept help from the Sudras, or any one else, for
the Matangi must come from the Madigas. It
is a Madiga affair, and while other castes may
share, they cannot have any initiative. A new
pot was made for Ellama ; shells and pebbles
were brought from the sea ; water from the
Krishna River was brought to wash them.

Before the initiation could take place, however,
a final test was ordained, to prove that the woman
was really worthy of the office. On the floor
of a house a figure in three parts was drawn, with
white, red, and yellow powder. In one part the
serpent had its place, in the second the Ellama-

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 69

pot, and in the third the new Matangi was seated.
A little earthenware pot was placed in each corner,
painted with saffron and red dots, representing
Ellama, and filled with buttermilk. Threads
were then tied to the pots, brought to the roof
and back again, crosswise, four times.

After these preparations had been completed,
the Bainurdu began to recite Ellama stories,
accompanying himself with his instrument. The
possession came upon the woman, but she
could not rise up and dance, she had to
remain seated and contain it within herself. If
she could not do this, she was not worthy. The
strings tied across furnished the proof, for if she
moved they would break, and the buttermilk in
the pots would be spilled. In due time the
Bainurdu said soothing words, and the possession
slowly disappeared.

A crowd of people had stood by as witnesses,
and great was the feeling of relief when the new
Matangi had stood the test and proved that she
would be able to carry her office with dignity.
Again the old Matangi was called; this time to
stand by and instruct her colleague in office.

70 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

First she was decked like the old Matangi, with
new clothes, her face and arms were painted with
saffron, rice was tied around her waist, and a
wreath of margosa leaves was hung around her
neck. As her insignia of office, a basket was
placed in her left hand, a stick in her right hand,
and two small plates, one containing yellow saffron,
the other red powder, were held by a woman who
was her female attendant. She stood in the middle
of the crowd, took buttermilk into her mouth,
passed it on a bunch of margosa leaves, and
sprinkled it on all who stood near. It was be-
lieved that whoever was thus sprinkled would be
cleansed from all defilement and pollution ; for
even the touch of a Matangi is thought to have
power. In the night the Reddi's wife and the
new Matangi sat on the goat together ; again
the serpent was worshipped, and there was great
feasting on the day following.

After this the new Matangi went about with
her husband, performing the ceremonies of her
office in the villages of the Taluk. Her husband
was passive, for men can never assume the role
of a Matangi.

THE MATANGI, HER ATTE^•DANT, AND THE BAIiNUNDU.

{Page 70.

The followers of this Matangi were displeased because she allowed her-
self to be photographed, yielding to persuasion and a substantial present.

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 71

Such was the story of the initiation of a Matangi
as told to me. I enquired for legends concerning
the Matangi cult, and found one which is not
without additional information.

There lived, once upon a time, a king whose
name was Dundagheri Rajah. His wife was Jamila
Devi. When the king was holding court one
day, a beautiful maiden appeared before him.
She was an incarnation of the goddess Parvati,
the consort of Siva. The king extended his right
hand to catch the maiden, but she moved away
from him. He and his people followed in pursuit
of her, but she receded, and finally disappeared
into an ant-hill. The king sent for diggers, and
ordered them to dig till they found the girl,
and offered large rewards. They began to dig,
but soon found that the ant-hill was hard as
stone. The king then sent for stone-cutters,
and the queen offered them still greater rewards.
They too failed. Then the king grew angry,
took his spear, and drove it into the ant-hill.
The spear pierced the skull of the maiden, and
as the king pulled out the spear, the brains of
the girl began to ooze out and blood began

72 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

to flow. The king and all his followers, at sight
of this, fell into a swoon.

The maiden then came out of the ant-hill in
great majesty and of divine proportions. She
held the heavens in her left hand (the basket
to-day represents this), in her right hand she
held Adisesha, the great serpent (the stick is
now substituted for this). She held the sun and
moon as plates, in one of which she caught the
spilt blood, in the other the scattered brain.
Upon the foreheads of the people, that lay in a
swoon, she made a mark with the brain and an-
other with the blood. Therefore the Matangi
to-day has two plates, one with yellow saffron,
the other with red turmeric, with which she marks
the foreheads of people. After all those who
lay in a swoon had been thus marked, they re-
covered, and saw the goddess before them in
the form of a maiden. The king and queen
took her into their house. She was afterwards
married to the sage Jamadagni, and had five
sons.

To say that the Matangi cult is a species of
Sakti-worship would be correct, but it would not

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 73

touch upon its real significance. Saktism is the
worship of the female energy in nature, and is
multitudinous in its forms, though nearly all
have their root in Parvati, the consort of Siva.
It cannot be said that it is of simply Aryan
origin, to be traced back to the union of Dyaus
and Prithivi, Heaven and Earth, in the hymns
of the Rig Veda. Nor can it be said that the
worship of the female principle in nature is exclu-
sively of Scythian origin. It is a form of worship
that constitutes an integral part of nature-worship,
as it appears among many of the races of an-
tiquity. The Matangi cult has its root far back in
ancient mother-worship, in the age of the Matriar-
chate. Some of the religious rites of that age find
expression in the Saktism of to-day.

I would point out that in the Matangi cult
some of the most ancient modes of worship of
the human race converge.

As far back as the records of the race can
be traced, serpent worship is found as a means
with which the human intellect sought to pro-
pitiate the unknown powers. Whether invariably
the serpent is so prominent a feature in Matangi

74 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

worship as in the case related to me I doubt ;
but the two cults were evidently thought to blend
harmoniously. In the legend of the Matangi the
maiden disappears into an ant-hill, generally the
home of serpents, coiled up in the passages
which the ants have burrowed for themselves,
feeding on the inmates. Moreover, the stick in
the hand of the Matangi represents Adisesha,
the primeval serpent, showing that the two cults
are linked together.

Tree worship in ancient times went side by
side with serpent worship. Traces of this also
are found in the Matangi cult. When the power
of EUama descends upon an unmarried Madiga
girl, the ceremony of marrying her to a tree
is sometimes performed, leaving her free there-
after to do as she pleases. The wreath of margosa
leaves around the neck of the Matangi, and the
bunch of margosa leaves in her hand, with which
she sprinkles the bystanders, may also be vestiges
of a cult that has the same root as the groves
of Baal and the sacred trees of the Teutons.

The rite of sacrificing a goat, after having
dragged it three times around the hooded serpent,

THE INITIATION OF A MATANGI 75

crushed by the weight of two women, one the
representative of the Matangi cult, the other of
serpent worship, is very significant. The practice
of the Matangi to paint the foreheads of her
worshippers i with saffron and red, explained as
being the brain and the blood of the Matangi, is
equally significant. It points to human sacrifice,
which has been intimately associated with serpent
worship. The two existed side by side in India
from the earliest time. Though the higher cul-
ture of the Aryan was opposed to the sacrifice
of men, and the mild doctrines of the Buddhist
were equally antagonistic to it, yet the British
Government, even in our own times, has had to
take steps to prohibit by law the vestiges of
ancient rites of this kind that still existed
among aboriginal tribes.

The Matangi cult illustrates the exceedingly
complicated nature of modern Hinduism. Only
the great antiquity of the cult can explain the
fact that several other distinct cults have found a
place in it. The desire to work out a scheme
of salvation was the motive power that produced
this readiness to adopt and assimilate other cults.

76 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

Though the Matangi cult is non-Aryan in char-
acter, the Brahmin has yet an interest in it. He,
too, stands by to be sprinkled by the margosa
branch of the Matangi, and be cleansed from
evil. And in all the striving there is the hope
that thus, perhaps, the soul may be saved.

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS AND
STORIES

After gathering from the Madigas all they could
tell me of the Matangi cult, I turned to books to
find corroborative evidence of the antiquity of the
cult, to get an explanation of its rites and customs.
I found that two scholars, Professor Wilson and
Sir Monier Williams, give the same enumeration
of Saktis : " Kali, Tara, Shodasi, Buvaneswari
Bhairavi, Chinna Mastaka, Dhunavati, Vagala,
Matangi, i.e. * a woman of the Bhangi Caste,' Kama-
latnika." The name of EUama is here omitted,
and the Matangi is given a place among the ten
great Saktis. This does not coincide with the
information I obtained about the Matangi. Per-
haps these ten Saktis belong to Northern India,
rather than to Southern India.

There is another enumeration of Saktis in a
book which treats of the gods of Southern India.
It is as follows : " Mariama, Ellama, Ankalama,

77

\

78 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

Bhadrakali, Pidari, Chamundi, Durga, Puranai,
Pudkalai." Ellama here has a place among the
great Saktis. The Matangi cannot be given a
place among them because she is only the Pariah
woman who is at times possessed by the spirit of
Ellama.

The author who thus gave me some slight cor-
roborative evidence was the great Danish mission-
ary, Ziegenbalg. He wrote his book on T/ie
Gvds of Malabar in the year 171 3, and sent it
to Germany for publication. He was informed
that the project of publishing his book could not
be entertained, that he had been sent out " to up-
root heathenism, and not to spread heathenish
nonsense in Europe." The great missionary was
a scholar. His book, not published until 1867,
contains information for which the student seeks
in vain elsewhere.

While I failed to find a description of the Ma-
tangi cult, I yet found traces of the name in several
books, in a way that served as a landmark. There
was a degree of satisfaction in its recurrence, for
the surrounding group of circumstances bore the
mark of similarity. Wherever the name Matanga

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 79

or Maiangi, whether with masculine or feminine
ending, occurred, there was reh'gious aspiration,
and with it the Chandala element.

The earliest mention of the name Matangi is
to be found in the Mahabharata. It is not pos-
sible to give an authentic date in connection with
this Sanscrit epic. Portions of it are of great
antiquity, and the tradition of the sage Matanga
probably belongs to the older parts. He was
one of the limited number of renowned sages of
Indian antiquity who were of degraded origin.

Matanga considered himself the son of Brahmin
parents. One day, however, he made the dis-
covery of his spurious birth. He was travelling
in a car drawn by asses. They walked slowly,
and in his impatience he goaded the colt. " It
is a Chandala who is in the car; his wicked
disposition indicates his origin," said the she-
ass to the colt.

Matanga heard this, and immediately besought
the she-ass to tell him what she knew of his origin.
He learned that his mother was a Brahmin, but
that his father was a Chandala. Determined yet
to earn Brahminhood, Matanga entered upon a

8o ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

course of austerities. Indra, to whom he appealed,
refused his request, because so high a position
cannot be obtained by one who is born a Chan-
dala. One hundred years of austerities passed,
but were of no avail. After Matanga had stood
on his great toe for another one hundred years,
Indra relented to the extent of giving him the
power to change his shape at will, and move about
like a bird. This legend indicates the strength of
the Brahminical hierarchy to exclude all who were
not of purely Brahminical birth.

Centuries pass, and again we meet with a sage,
Matanga, mentioned in the Ramayana^ the second
Indian epic, which is also of great antiquity.
When Rama, the hero of the epic, enters the
great forest Dandaka, he is told that he will be-
hold in the forest the abode of the great ascetic,
Matanga, who was feared by all. " Even the
elephants, though they were many, dared not cross
the threshold of his asylum." Matanga, and the
ascetics with him, had departed to heaven in
celestial cars, leaving an " immortal mendicant
woman, by name Savari," who had been com-
manded to await the coming of Rama, because

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 8i

she would then attain to the abode of the
celestials.

Rama comes ; he speaks to the female ascetic,
who appears before him with matted locks,
clothed in rags and the skin of an antelope : " O
thou of sweet accents, hast thou succeeded in re-
moving all hindrances to asceticism ? Hast thou
observed the commandments and attained to
mental felicity ? "

She approaches Rama with the words : " Fa-
voured with thy presence, my asceticism hath
attained to its consummation."

She shows him the spot known as Matanga's
wood, and the various wild fruits growing on the
banks of Pampa, which she had collected for him.
He has come to take possession of them. Her
work is done, and she announces her purpose
of renouncing her body and approaching " those
pure-souled ascetics " on whom she had formerly
waited.

In an excess of joy Rama exclaims : " O gentle
one, I have been worshipped by thee ! Do thou
depart at thy ease and pleasure." Thus dismissed
by Rama, she surrendered herself unto fire, and

w.s.s. 6

82 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

repaired to that holy region where her preceptors
dwelt.

A more tolerant spirit by far is shown in this
story, as compared to the previous one. The
ascetic, Matanga, belonged to the day when Aryan
hermits adopted conciliatory measures in the
colonization of Southern India. With his dis-
ciples he formed a colony, but they do not seem
to have dwelt in proud isolation. They honoured
a Pariah woman by leaving her in charge of
the deserted hermitage until Rama should come.
They taught her to desire the heaven of Brahmin
ascetics.

Again there is a gap of centuries, and we find in
the Puranas^ which rank next to the Ramayana in
antiquity, a legend which, though it may not directly
refer to the Matangi, yet marks the change which
time had wrought. The Brahmin Rishis had realized
that the worship of the gods of the Aryans did
not appeal to the mind of the aborigines, yet they
desired to control the religious life of all. Thus
it came to pass that Siva, one of the lesser gods
of the Aryan pantheon, in the evolution of cen-
turies, took upon himself the stern qualities which

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 83

the Dravidians revered in their deities. His
consort, Parvati, became the form in which Sakti
worship found expression. She is worshipped
to-day in a multiplicity of forms, not the least of
which is that of the Matangi.

The legend, to be found in the Valavisu Purana^
is as follows : An ineffable mystery was once re-
vealed by Parvati, the wife of Siva, and her son,
Kartikeya. By way of punishment, they were to
be re-born in an infinite number of mortal forms.
But Parvati entreated that the severity of the
sentence might be mitigated to one transmigra-
tion. This was granted. At this time Triamballa,
King of the Parawas, and Varuna Valli, his wife,
were engaged in special acts of devotion in order
to obtain issue. Parvati condescended to become
their daughter and assume the name of Tiryser
Madente. Her son became a fish of immense size,
roaming about in the sea. Swimming south, he
attacked the fishing vessels of the Parawas, and
threatened to destroy their trade. The king made
public declaration that whosoever would catch the
fish should have his daughter as a wife. The god
Siva assumed the character of a Parawa, caught

84 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

the fish, and was re-united to his consort. This
legend is an attempt to bring Siva and Parvati
into very close contact with the aborigines. The
Parawas rank first among the tribes of Tamil
fishermen of to-day, and were once a strong
people and had kings.

A more elaborate attempt, on the part of the
Brahmins, to explain the presence of this aboriginal
cult by the side of Aryan deities is found in the
legend of Ellama. Vishnu, who is distinctly a god
created of Aryan conceptions, here appears incar-
nate as the son of Ellama, in the form of Parasu-
Rama. Saivism and Vaishnavism thus converge
in the person of Ellama, for she was the personifi-
cation of Siva's wife, and the mother of an incar-
nation of Vishnu.

Ellama was the daughter of a Brahmin. Her
life from her childhood was so pure and holy that
a great Rishi took her to be his wife. Parasu-
Rama and three other sons were born to her.
Her chastity was so great that by means of it she
was enabled to roll the waters of the river Kaveri
in huge balls to the place where her husband per-
formed the sacrifice, that he might use it. One

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 85

clay she saw the shadow of something in the ball
of water which she was rolling, and looked up.
She saw the Gandharvas, the celestial musicians,
flying through the air, and she admired their beauty
greatly. Next day the water refused to be rolled.
The Rishi asked, " Why can you not roll the
water ? " She replied : " Yesterday I saw a shadow
in the water, and, looking up, saw the Gandharvas
flying through the air. Beyond this I know of no
sin." The Rishi replied : " Your chastity is lost.
A chaste woman would not have looked up and
admired the Gandharvas."

He called upon his sons to behead their mother,
but they replied, " She is our mother ; how can
we cut off her head ? " Parasu-Rama only was
willing to do it, and the father sent him to find
his mother. She had taken refuge with the
Pariahs, who refused to deliver her to Parasu-
Rama. He, however, killed all the Pariahs, and
brought the head of his mother to the Rishi, who,
greatly pleased, asked, " Son, what do you desire
that I should do for you ? " He said, " I desire
that you give back to me my mother ! " The
Rishi granted his request, gave him the head

86 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

of his mother, and he went in search of the body.
Among the dead bodies of the Pariahs whom he
had slain he could not find the body of his mother.
He therefore placed the head upon the body of a
Pariah woman, and brought her back to life. His
father, when he saw her, said, " She is now a
Pariah woman." Both mother and son were sent
away from his presence. Parasu-Rama became a
mighty king, and Ellama became a goddess.

According to Ziegenbalg, the pagodas erected
to Ellama in the Malabar country contain eight
figures beside her own. One of these is Matangi,
' the Pariah woman, on whose body the head of
Ellama was grafted. Another is Jamadagni, her
husband, who ordered that she should be put to
death. It was Jamadagni whom the maiden mar-
ried, after she rose out of the ant-hill as Matangi.
This establishes a coincidence in two legends.

The legends concerning the Matangi have re-
ceived their most elaborate touches in the legend
of Ellama. The next mention of her I found
in books of local history and biography, where
she stands forth in bold outline, in striking con-
trast to the mythical form of legendary produc-

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 87

tions. She is now " a female warrior of her
tribe," and takes part in the capture of Kampula
in the Carnatic by Mohammed the Third in 1338.
Many warriors from the Telugu country fought
under the hero Kumara Rama, and she was
among them.

The Matangi seems to have been treacherous,
and to have gone over to the King of Delhi,
who was highly incensed at the cowardice of his
commanders, and put a large force of his soldiers
under the command of the Matangi. Not only
did she herself go over to the enemy, but she
persuaded a company of Telugu soldiers to fight
on the Mohammedan side. In the early part of
the conflict that ensued, Kumara Rama was
successful, and drove the enemy back. Not
until then did he hear of the treachery in his
camp, and speedily proceeded to the scene of
danger, where he encountered the Matangi. He
seized her nose-ring, shook it, and told her that
he " disdained to take the life of a woman." His
bravest soldiers, surprised and overpowered by
numbers, fell fast around him, and he was left
alone. After maintaining the conflict for a long

88 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

time, and killing many of his assailants, he him-
self was at last slain, and the Matangi cut off
his head and carried it to Delhi.

The Matangi here has the power of her office.
As Matangi she wielded a powerful influence over
the Telugu warriors, which led the King of Delhi
to regard her as a desirable ally. Kumara
Rama's hesitation to kill her, in the heat of
battle, was probably due to respect for her office,
rather than for her womanhood. She was the
embodiment of a cult which all held sacred.

Looking back upon the recurrence of the name
Matangi at intervals of centuries, far back into
almost pre-historic times, we find one continuous
thread of evidence that the Aryan invader, as
he confronted an aboriginal cult of peculiar
strength and tenacity, sought to find a place for
it, to control it, and conquer it. The first step
is indicated by the legend of the sage, Matanga,
who was refused the boon of Brahminhood,
showing the strength of the Brahminical hier-
archy to exclude one who was of partly Chan-
dala origin. Next we receive a glimpse of the
more conciliatory measures adopted by Aryan

THE MATANGI IN LEGENDS 89

hermits in the colonization of Southern India.
Later we have Siva, the god evolved partly of
Dravidian ideas, and his wife Parvati, taking upon
themselves the form that would endear them to
some of the lowest of the aboriginal tribes. Not
satisfied with this, not only Saivism is brought
in close contact with the Matangi cult, but
Vaishnavism also finds a way to gain a hold
upon it. It might seem as if the Brahminical
hierarchy had now absorbed this strange cult.
Far from it. The bloody ferocity of the " female
warrior Matangi "differs from the loquacious curses
with which the Brahmin sages content themselves.
The aboriginal tribes have clung to their cults
with a peculiar tenacity. In view of the fact
that the Brahmins have interested themselves in
the Matangi cult, it is remarkable that none of
their religious conceptions have penetrated into
it. The legends concerning it they have suc-
ceeded in moulding according to their ideas.
The cult itself they have not been able to reach.
It is an aboriginal cult.

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI

Short of stature, bent with age and nearly
blind, our old gardener in Ongole still came
every day to sit under the large trees in the
heat of the day, or to watch others do the work
which he had done during many a year. His
favourite grandson frequently led him about,
holding him by the hand. At other times he
found his way through the garden paths alone,
leaning on his staff, seldom at a loss to know
where he was, for every foot of ground was known
to him, every tree and shrub had been cared for
by him in the years that had passed.

His memory went back to the olden times,
and mingled with that which had happened in
his own day were the tales which he had heard
his father recount. He was distinctively one of
the oldest inhabitants of Ongole.

" Tell me about Ongole when you were a boy,
gardener," I said one day.

90

MAHALAKSHMI AND HER ATTENDANTS,

[Pa^e 91

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI 91

This opened the flood-gates of his recollections,
and the incident which seemed to him of greatest
importance and interest was given first.

" Ammah, when I was a boy, the Rajah of
Goomsur was taken through Ongole by the
British."

" Why did they do that ? "

" He was their prisoner. There were many
soldiers who guarded him. And the men of his
own household, who were with him, could do
nothing. After five days they moved on to
Madras."

This Rajah of Goomsur had Mahalakshmi as
his goddess. He had dedicated all his fortunes
to her, and sacrificed to her all that her priests
demanded. Every day she had to have the
blood of two buffaloes, and much other food
besides. It was said that sometimes she refused
to be satisfied with anything but human sacrifice.

After he had been taken prisoner, the Rajah
could do nothing more for Mahalakshmi, and she
waxed angry. One day she approached him, and
said : —

" You offer me nothing. What am I to do ? "

92 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

The Rajah replied : —

" The English Government did me this evil.
Go to them, spoil everything they have, bring
cholera and smallpox to their regiments." The
goddess left him, thirsting for blood.

Great trouble and distress came upon Ongole
three days after the Rajah had passed by. Never
before had any one in Ongole known what
cholera and smallpox were, but now they learned
and trembled. The wrath of Mahalakshmi was
very fierce. She slew all before her. Twelve
died on the first day after she had begun her
work. Many more died during the weeks that
followed. No one could count them all. Not a
village in the region round about was spared.
So great was the thirst of Mahalakshmi for blood,
that when a man fell sick he died on the spot.
She let none escape.

Many were numb with terror. Others said :
" If Mahalakshmi must have blood, give her the
blood of beasts. Let it fiow in streams ! Per-
haps she will spare us while she drinks it."

Hundreds of sheep, buffaloes without number,
were sacrificed. Shrines were erected to Maha-

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHIMI 93

lakshmi. Hands reeking with blood were raised
in supplication by those who saw one after
another in their households succumb. Men and
women in the frenzy of excitement danced the
wild dance of possession, while instruments were
played all day long, and priests were busy saying
mantras.

Gradually it became evident that the thirst
of Mahalakshmi was quenched. She grew mild
as the years passed, and sometimes men who
seemed doomed escaped her hands and returned
to life.

" And do you doubt," the old gardener asked,
" that these things surely took place ? Look
around in Ongole and in all the villages, and
see the Mahalakshmi shrines. Not one of them
was there before the Rajah of Goomsur passed
through, when I was a boy."

I looked up the matter, and I found that there
was a curious blending of fact and superstition
in the story of the old gardener. It is a fact
that a rebellion took place in the State of
Goomsur, about three hundred miles north of
Ongole, in the year 1835. The Rajah was taken

94 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

prisoner, and was brought to Madras, probably
through Ongole. It is also a fact that the first
epidemic of cholera in the Madras Presidency,
within the memory of that generation, had broken
out a few years before ; so that in the perspective
of later years the two events easily became
identical.

It is a coincidence to be noticed that the
people of Goomsur, who are Khonds and are of
Dravidian origin, have a goddess called Jugah
Pennu, who " sows smallpox upon mankind as
men sow seed upon the earth." When a village
is threatened with this dread disease, it is deserted
by all save a few persons who remain to offer
the blood of buffaloes, hogs, and sheep to the
destroying power. Human sacrifice was not un-
known among the Khonds. The character of
Jugah Pennu is very like that of Mahalakshmi,
even down to the hint concerning human sacri-
fice. Perhaps some of those who travelled In
the retinue of the Rajah brought the germs of
the disease to Ongole. The terror of the weeks
that followed gave to the Rajah's sojourn and the
outbreak of disease the relation of cause and effect

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI 95

in the minds of the people ; and Mahalakshmi
thus became one of the most dreaded characters
in the demon-worship of Ongole.

Numberless are the fiends worshipped in the
Indian villages who are thirsting for blood, or
who are busy night and day maliciously planning
to injure and destroy. If any one falls sick, if
the crops fail, if cattle die, or harm of any kind
befalls the village, it is considered the work of
some evil demon, whose vengeance and hatred
must be kept in check by offerings.

A Brahmin once told me: "The god Vishnu
stays in his holy place, but Poleramah, Ankalamah,
and a host of other fiends and demons have their
eyes ever directed to this earth, and go about
seeking whom they may destroy." Though of
Aryan stock, he leaned decidedly in the direction
of Scythian demonolatry when he tried to explain
to himself the phenomenon of positive evil. " The
one supreme god," he said, "is too good to do
harm to any one. But the demons stay close
to the earth, and to do evil is their delight."

I have found in my enquiries among the Ma-
digas that they continue to worship demons of

96 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

a locality long after the reason that led to the
worship is forgotten. I could only conclude that
in generations past a man or woman had died
under peculiar circumstances, that the spirit was
thought to be restless and wandering about, and
that, for some reason, a certain margosa tree had
been fixed upon as its home. So, in accordance
with ancient Dravidian rites, a stone was placed
under the tree, painted with saffron, adorned
with the usual red dots and then worshipped.
Sometimes these local swamis are the spirits of
good men and women, who are revered as kind
and beneficent deities. But they too may turn
into angry demons and refuse to defend men, if
they are offended by a lack of devotion and by
the paucity of offerings from the worshipper.

Once only my oft-repeated question as to the
reason why some local swami was so faithfully
worshipped brought me a satisfactory reply. I
thus learned the origin of a beneficent village deity.

Not many generations past, for she is still
remembered, there lived a Sudra woman, Chal-
kamah by name. Her father-in-law was a wealthy
man. With considerable outlay of money he

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI 97

was digging one of those large square wells, so
often seen in Southern India, which have the
fountain in the centre, and the four sides ter-
raced by stone steps, so that those who would
fill their pots with water could easily descend.
The diggers had gone to considerable depth, but
there was no water. What should be done?

There was much talk and deliberation in the
village, for a well with a plentiful supply of
water is a matter of much importance in an
Indian community. The general opinion was
that some swami, some higher power, was with-
holding the water. An attempt must be made to
propitiate the swami. It was decided that the
owner of the well and his daughter-in-law,
Chalkamah, should offer sacrifice. She was a
young woman in the full strength of her prime.
Her husband was still living, and she was, there-
fore, a woman who has power with the swamis.

They took pots, rice, saffron, incense and fire-
wood, and descended to the bottom of the ex-
cavation. There they cooked the rice, set up
three stones in the spot where the fountain
should appear, painted them with saffron and

W.S.S. 7

98 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

made the usual red dots on the surface. They
laid the rice before the stones as an offering,
burned the incense, and then worshipped the
three stones as if they represented the deity
withholding the water.

The two worshippers came away. They had
climbed half-way out of the well when Chal-
kamah turned back. She had forgotten the cop-
per cup which she had used in cooking. De-
scending again, she stood at the bottom, and as
she bent to pick up the cup, behold ! the water
rushed forth to meet her.

Her father-in-law, still standing half-way, called
to her, " Come up quickly ! " An inarticulate
sound came back as an answer. Again he called,
and again the same sound rose up amid the rush
of water. He dropped everything in his hands
and turned to the rescue of Chalkamah. He called
to her again, as he began to descend. Now
there was a distinct answer : " Don't call me
again ! " Thus Chalkamah expired.

Many stood at the top of the well, and saw and
heard all. They said, " She could have fled and
escaped if she had wished ! "

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI 99

But the water was rising. There was great
abundance for the use of the village. It was
said of Chalkamah, " She must have been a holy
woman or the water would not have rushed forth
to meet her ! " As a beneficent matri, who was
supplying the village with water, she was hence-
forth worshipped.

A matri like Chalkamah belongs to the village.
Similar worship as a household institution I found
among the Madigas under the name Perantalu,
meaning "a good and fortunate woman." I was
told that other castes, too, worship Perantalu.
In fact, I saw the significant yellow and red
markings on the door of a Sudra house.

When a woman in a Madiga family dies who
has been what the Madigas consider a virtuous
woman, one who was devoted to the swamis, and
leaves behind her at death a husband, it is be-
lieved that she will go where she will have easy
access to the gods and can intercede for the
family. Widowhood among the Madigas does
not mean the life of privation that makes the
widowhood of caste-women so pitiful a state.
Yet the Madigas think a woman leaves this

100 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

world under fortunate auspices when her hus-
band is left behind to mourn her death.

To facilitate communion with the departed one,
a place on the inner wall of the house is painted
yellow with saffron ; red dots are made on the
yellow surface, and a necklace with beads at-
tached is fastened in the middle of it. This
becomes the shrine of the family, before which
they bow every day, and especially when they
propose to go on a journey or enter upon any
new undertaking.

It is possible that the Perantalu is a local
superstition, for I have not found it mentioned
in books. Yet it stands in a line with other forms
of Saktism. The spirit of a highly-favoured
female member of the family is credited with
mysterious powers of an occult character, with
a control of the secret forces of nature. It is
the mother-worship of antiquity in a form that
makes it a household institution.

But I would suggest that another element is
present in the Perantalu as well as other species
of mother-worship found among the Madigas.
There is a persistent recurrence of the yellow

THE FIEND MAHALAKSHMI loi

saffron and red dots everywhere. In the worship
of beneficent matris, when fiends and demons are
to be propitiated, in the Matangi cult, everywhere
the yellow and red markings are a necessary ad-
junct. Many a time I have seen a stone under a
margosa tree, with the markings on the surface,
and frequently a necklace of beads hung around it.

Is it not possible that this points to human
sacrifice ? Both Brahmanism and Buddhism were
opposed to human sacrifice, yet with great per-
tinacity the spilling of human blood, in order to
appease the gods, has endured among aboriginal
tribes, even down to our own times. The British
Government has had to deal with the vestiges
of the cruel rites.

The Abbe Dubois, one of the keenest ob-
servers of Hindu customs, wrote at the close of
last century : " Old men have told me that this
horrible custom was still practised when they
were young. I have visited several places where
these scenes of carnage used to be enacted." He
says there is not a province in India where the
inhabitants do not point out to the travellers
places where their Rajahs offered up to their idols

102 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

unfortunate prisoners captured in war. This was
one hundred years ago.

In the Kali-Purana the god Siva lays down
the rules for blood-offerings. By a human sacri-
fice, he says, his consort is pleased a thousand
years. By the sacrifice of three human beings
one hundred thousand years. Kali and Durga,
both belonging to the ten great Saktis, are al-
ways represented with the evidence of their thirst
for blood conspicuous in some way. Perhaps a
necklace of human skulls adorns the neck, or the
tongue is stretched forth to indicate the thirst for
blood. Alas ! for the gloom of such worship.

Of the tribe of the Matangas the poet Bana-
bhatta wrote about the year 606 A.D., " Their one
religion is offering human flesh to Durga." Per-
haps there was a time when the victims for
sacrifice were allowed to escape, and in their stead
a stone was painted with yellow saffron to resem-
ble human flesh, and the red marks took the place
of the blood that did not flow. It was hoped the
thirsty gods would be appeased by this substitute,
especially if the reeking blood of goats accom-
panied it.

SECRET MEETINGS AND MIDNIGHT
ORGIES

Saktism does not assume its most revolting
form in the Matangi cult, nor in the worship of
matris and fiends and demons. The frenzy of
possession, the mad excitement of the dance, the
slaughter of beasts, and the shouts of the by-
standers, may be sufficiently hideous ; but they
are not an outrage upon human nature.

In the Chermanishta sect there are meetings
that need the cover of darkness. Vague reports
only reach the outer world of that which is done
in secret.

Once a year the members of the Chermanishta

sect meet in the house of one of their number.

They may belong to any other cult or religion

and yet come to this secret meeting. Religious

103

104 ANCIENT MOTHER- WORSHIP

distinctions and caste distinctions are wiped out
for the time being. Strange to say, Brahmin,
Sudra and Madiga are, during that night, on a
basis of equality. But the utmost secrecy is
required of all. In the morning all resume their
own caste, and no one dare divulge the know-
ledge of the presence of the others during the
orgies of the night.

As midnight approaches, the Guru enters the
house of meeting ; the rest follow, one after
another. After all are seated, the Guru goes
around with a vessel containing sarai, and lets
each one take a sip. In the other hand he has
a piece of meat, and touches the tongue of each.
He himself finally eats and drinks of both. Then
nine kinds of meat, previously cooked, are passed
around : fowl, pigeon, pig, goat, cow, donkey, cat,
dog and buffalo. Each one puts a little of each
on a plate made of dried leaves and eats it, while
sarai flows plentifully.

While eating, all sing : " We have now severed
both caste and fainily connection. We have joined
together both ruling caste and servants. We desire
to be saved by the Gum. This is the time''

MEETINGS AND MIDNIGHT ORGIES 105

The piece of meat, which touches the tongue
of each, seems intended to wipe out every social
distinction between them. Later in the night a
woman is brought in — generally, it seems, a
Madiga woman — and there are orgies that form
a loathsome representation of the creative force
in nature. At last the Guru announces the place
for the next meeting, and all steal away silently,
one after another, as they came.

The fact that the Madigas are admitted to the
rites which join kulapathi and dastilathi, " ruling
caste and servants," is not without its own sig-
nificance. Perhaps the Brahmins learned the
mysteries of the cult from the aborigines. The
members of the sect claim that the deeds of the
night are free from lust and vice, because the
mind is filled with thoughts of worship. It is
nature-worship in the most revolting form, and
may well be called the most corrupt aspect of
modern Hinduism.

Nowhere in books could I find a reference to
the Chermanishta sect. I concluded that perhaps
it was Sakti worship under a local name — perhaps
the name of the Guru who first taught its rites

io6 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

in parts of the Telugu country. I thought it
would have to be classified as a worship of Siva,
because Saktism generally centres in Parvati, the
consort of Siva. But I was told repeatedly, by
those who claimed that they knew, that it was
part of the Ramanuja sect.

An explanation was given me which is a mix-
ture of fact and hearsay. My informants knew
that there was once a great teacher, Ramanuja,
who made disciples of all castes and of both sexes.
He did not initiate his followers into the mysteries
of his doctrines, but wrote them in a book, which
he concealed from them. At the time of his
death no one was with him, and the book of secret
doctrines fell into the hands of the Brahmins,
who characteristically kept it to themselves. But
his other followers, too, wanted to know of the
teaching of their Guru. Two of his disciples, who
were women of the caste of dancing-women, and
were, therefore, versed in the art of reading and
writing, sought to meet the emergency by writing
each a book. They claimed that these books
contained the teaching of Ramanuja, imparted
to them on his death-bed. From one of these

MEETINGS AND MIDNIGHT ORGIES 107

books sprang the Ramanuja sect, from the other
the Chermanishta sect.

This is a curious instance of the way in which
the common people explain to themselves that
which is beyond their comprehension. It is
probably true that at the death of Ramanujacarya,
who lived in the twelfth century, and was the first
of a line of Vaishnavite reformers, the Brahmins
took possession of his books. The abstruse reason-
ing which they contained concerning a triad of
principles— the Supreme Being, the Soul, and
Non-Soul— was not of a nature to satisfy the
wants of the multitude.

His followers corrupted his teaching. The sect
was divided into the northern and the southern
school. The struggle between the two schools was
fierce, and was really the controversy between
Arminian and Calvinistic doctrine in Indian guise.
The northern school claimed that the soul lays
hold of the Supreme Being as the young monkey
clings to its mother, of its own free-will. The
southern school have " the cat-hold theory." They
argue that the soul remains passive and helpless
until acted upon by the Supreme Being, as the

io8 ANCIENT MOTHER-WORSHIP

kitten remains passive until the mother-cat trans-
ports it from place to place.

Not only on the question of free-will did the
Ramanuja sect divide, but also on the question
of the place to be assigned to the consort of
Vishnu. The northern school regard her as in-
finite and uncreated, like her consort, while the
southern school maintain that she is simply a
mediator, not an equal channel of salvation. The
story told me of the books written by the two
dancing-women probably points to this division
of the Ramanuja sect.

There is incongruity in giving to a sect that
inculcates a hideous form of Saktism a place
among the followers of Ramanuja. The teachings
of Ramanuja were moral. He forbade the use of
animal food and intoxicating drinks. He prob-
ably came in contact with Christian missionaries,
for his insistence on the spiritual equality of all
men points to Christian principle. He demanded
personal devotion to a personal god, and this god
was Vishnu.

The secret orgies of the Chermanishta sect
date back thousands of years previous to the time

MEETINGS AND MIDNIGHT ORGIES 109

of Ramanuja. To find for them a place in the
Ramanuja sect is simply an attempt, uncon-
sciously put forth, perhaps, of finding in the more
modern religious movements a place for an ancient
cult.

CHRISTIANITY AND THE
GURUS

A Search for Truth
Six Gurus in Succession
The Silence of Ramaswami

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH

I knew Bangarapu Thatiah seventeen years ago,
when he was yet in his prime, honoured and loved
by all. I saw him again when old age rested
heavily upon him and his memory failed him
when he tried to recall the happenings of yester-
day. But when I asked him about the far-away
past, his almost sightless eyes seemed to peer into
the distance, and he told me many things.

" I called our Dora and he came," he said to me,
and then relapsed into silence. I looked about on
the mission-houses, the school-houses, and the
busy activity of the mission compound. And I
remembered how this man, many years ago, came
to this spot, his heart burning within him, to see
whether the white teacher had not come. He
found it overgrown with cactus, and Gundla
Pentiah living in a hut in one corner of the com-
pound, a faithful man, who told him that the

W.S.S. "3 8

114 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

Ongole Missionary was yet in Nellore, but was
soon coming.

Thatiah's plea was the last link in the chain of
circumstances that brought the Ongole Missionary
to this place. He could justly say before the
younger generation, when he leaned heavily on
the sturdy shoulders of the young men, " I called
our Dora, and he came."

I said, " Thatiah, tell me about the old days."
He looked about helplessly, and one of the
younger men said, " Grandfather, the Dorasani
wants to know about the time when the Dora first
came here."

" When the Dora first told me to go and preach,
I said, ' How can I go about alone all the time ? '
But he said, ' Take your wife with you and you will
be two.' After that Satyamah and I always went
together. Sometimes she carried the bundle,
sometimes I put it on my shoulder. What I
preached, she preached ; what I ate, she ate.
Satyamah was always with me."

" Did not men persecute you in the old days ? "

Thatiah's face, grown passive with age, brightened
with animation, as he assured me, " No one ever

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 115

abused me, no one persecuted me ; men always
treated me kindly and respectfully."

" They tell me that you were much with Rajayogi
Gurus. Did you learn anything from them ? "

" Did I learn anything from them ? They told
me that there is one God, and that He is Spirit ;
that He has created all things, and pervades all
things. It was well that they told me this, and I
believed it. But nothing satisfied my soul till I
heard of Jesus Christ."

Thatiah told me this, without hesitation, as one
of the facts of his life. He was too old for medita-
tion. Thus I had the summary of Thatiah's
search for truth. He had found a nugget of gold
in the Rajayogi sect, but the pearl of great price
he had found when he heard of the Christ.

Thatiah had, years before, written a sketch of his
life, at the request of the Missionary. This was
supplemented by the story of many a man, who
could not tell of the old days without bringing in
Thatiah at decisive points. A singularly pure and
holy life this man led before the eyes of thousands
of his people.

He was born when his parents were advanced

lib CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

in years. The duty of caring for them fell upon
him. It never occurred to him that he might
learn to read. There was no one in those days
who would teach a Madiga boy to read. He
learned of his father to tan leather, and sew the
sandals which the Sudras ordered.

In the time of his grandfather, a Guru of the
Ramanuja sect had been invited by the family
to come with the idols of Vishnu and perform
sacred rites before them. This was repeated
on special occasions, and the fees demanded by
the priest were paid out of the scant earn-
ings. When his father died, Thatiah took pride
in having the funeral ceremonies performed
according to the dictates of a Guru of the
Ramanuja sect. This was considered an advance,
both religiously and socially, upon the cults and
customs of the ordinary Madiga.

Neither Thatiah nor any other Madiga has ever
told me that he had gained in spiritual truth by
joining the Ramanuja sect. The Madigas know
nothing of the doctrines of the sect, nor do they
see any deeper meaning in the several incarnations
of Vishnu. This utter lack of apprehension con-

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 117

cerning the tenets of a sect which they had joined
shows that the Aryan cults do not find congenial
soil among the aborigines. With the worship of
Siva, in the Rajayogi sect, it was different. It
was from this direction that a strong influence
made itself felt in Thatiah's life.

A very old woman, bent with age, came to
Thatiah's neighbourhood to visit her married
daughter. This old woman, Bandikatla Veeramah,
was a disciple of the Yogi Pothuluri Veera-
bramham. She must have been a spiritually-
minded woman, and of strong personality. Thatiah
and several others soon sat at her feet and learned
of her.

The Yogi Veerabramham was one of the many
reformers who rise up in India, influence thousands
during several generations, and are then forgotten.
This Yogi's influence seems to have been more
far-reaching and more pure than that of many
another. He has inspired thousands with a hope
which in some of its features resembles the
millennial hope in the mind of the Christian, who
looks forward to a speedy second coming of the
Christ. He taught that God is spirit, and must be

ii8 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

worshipped in spirit. That which is not of the
spirit was denounced by him. " Those who say
* Rama ! Rama ! ' will fall away," he said, " because
it is lip-service, and not of the spirit." In the
book in which his disciples preserved much of his
teaching, he calls upon the multitude to turn from
wickedness and look forward to a coming in-
carnation. This expectation of a re-incarnation of
the Deity was the central thought in his preaching,
and he has so filled the minds of his followers
with this hope that they look for its fulfilment in
the immediate future.

The personal history of Veerabramham is clothed
in much that is legendary. His father was a
devotee of Siva ; he himself, when a young man,
saw a vision in the field, which invited him to a
certain shrine, where he henceforth often held
converse with the Deity. After the manner of the
Yogi he entered his grave alive, and ordered to
have the door closed. His chief disciple, Siddapa,
who had been absent, came to the grave and called
aloud to his master, for he had not given him the
final initiation. With an invisible hand, the words
which his master had to say to him were written

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 119

on his tongue. He departed, and directed his
preaching mainly against caste ; and prophesied, in
the name of his master that in the day when God
again became incarnate caste would vanish and
all men would be equal.

This was the teaching which Thatiah received
from Bandikatla Veeramah. Her life was an
illustration of her precepts. People of all castes
came and went in her house, even Madigas,
though she belonged to the goldsmith caste, and
was, therefore, far above them.

The woman in whose house she and her daughter
were living began to object to the custom of her
tenants. She said, " All these people are coming
and going. They may touch our cooking utensils,
and thus spoil our caste. You can look for another
house." Rather than ask her followers of low
degree to stay away, Veeramah looked for another
house. Her heart was large, she loved them all.

When she went away, she talked most lovingly
to them : " You must be like the children of one
mother, for you are the followers of one Guru. Be
full of faith, don't go and sin. Strive without
ceasing to earn salvation."

120 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

Thatiah had received his initiation as a Rajayogi
Guru from Bandikatla Veeramah. For an hour
every day he sat in meditation, his eyes closed, his
fingers pressed over ears and nostrils, so that
objects of sense might be completely shut out, and
the soul might perceive the great, all-pervading
Divine Being. He was much with the Rajayogi
people, and seems to have been looked upon as
a leader among them, because of his religious
fervour.

In the Kanigiri Taluk, where Thatiah lived, the
soil was dry and hard, and the Sudras had to dig
wells in their fields to water the growing crops.
In large buckets they brought the water to the
surface, and these buckets were made of leather,
and had to be made and kept in repair by the
Madigas. Thatiah heard that much cattle was
dying in the Godavery district, stung by a
poisonous fly, and that, therefore, hides were cheap.
He decided, with a kinsman, to go north on trade.

It was during his stay in that northern district
that Thatiah first heard of the Christ. A Madiga,
who was also bent on trade, told him of a Dora
who was preaching this new religion. They de-

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 121

cided to go and see him, and were kindly received.
They went again. Thatiah said, " This religion is
true. My soul is now satisfied." The Padre said,
" You are going back to your home. Inquire
from time to time, for soon a white teacher is
coming to Ongole. Go to him ; he will tell you
more about this religion."

When Thatiah turned toward home, he was
determined to break away from the old life and
begin the new. He refused to bow before the
village idols. He told the Rajayogi people that
he was no longer one of them, that he had found
something far better than they had to give. When
they asked him which swami he was going to
worship, he told them that he bowed to one, Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, who had died for men.
A Dora had told him, and another Dora was soon
coming who would tell him more.

So bold a declaration from a man of the in-
fluence of Thatiah was not to be accepted with
indifference. Some of the Madigas, who feared
the demons and fiends of the village, predicted
that their vengeance would smite them all, because
of Thatiah's daring words. Nor were the Sudras

122 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

pleased with his determination. His friends
reasoned with him, " You are believing a God not
of this country, but a new God. You are bringing
new standards of living among us. Our old-time
gods, Poleramah and Ankalamah, you no longer
come to worship ; you stay away when we beat
the drums on their festal days. Don't you know
that they will turn from us and curse us on your
account ? "

Thatiah was not a man to be abused. No one
dared to insult him or ill-treat him. All the more
keenly he felt the isolation when all withdrew from
him. Those who had heretofore looked up to
him as a spiritual leader now passed him by.
Work that had been promised him by the Sudras
was quietly withdrawn ; the pay for work which
he had done was not forthcoming.

But the grief that was deepest in all his sore
trial came through the desertion of his wife Sat-
yamah. She did not stand by him. Perhaps she
was not greatly to blame ; for she had not been
with Thatiah when he opened his heart to the
religion of Jesus Christ. He had told her all
when he returned, but at the same time she saw

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 123

him opposed on every hand. The change in him
seemed like a wall between them ; she felt that
she was losing her husband, and when relatives
and friends, who knew that Thatiah held her dear,
told her that she must save him by sternly op-
posing him, she lent a willing ear.

Her former care for his comforts was turned
to neglect. His food was often late or unsavoury,
and sometimes he had to go hungry. When he
wanted to drink there was no water. His re-
monstrances were met by reproaches from her.
Finally he said to her : " By thus plunging me
into all kinds of trouble, you cannot keep me
here. I shall join the people of the Christian sect
as soon as I can find them, and I shall eat with
them." The strife was ended. When referring to
this circumstance in later life, Thatiah said simply,
" God in His great mercy changed her mind."

In all the forsaken condition of those days,
Thatiah never forgot that a missionary was coming
to Ongole. Could it be that he had already
come ? Satyamah agreed with him that it might
be well to go and see.

Tired and footsore Thatiah came to the com-

124 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

pound in Ongole, which was said to belong to
the Nellore Missionary. In the midst of it was
a little bungalow, but no white teacher living in it.
As Thatiah went about the compound, he must
have looked like a man who wanted something,
for Gundla Pentiah saw him, and came out of
his hut toward him, and asked, " Why did you
come here ? "

" I have come to look for the white teacher.
Why is he not here ? "

Pentiah was a Christian from Nellore, sent to
Ongole to watch the compound and await the
coming of the Missionary. He took Thatiah
into his hut, and they talked it over. Pentiah
grasped the situation ; he sympathized with
Thatiah, and he knew that there would be joy
in the mission house at Nellore should a mes-
sage be received that there was a man in On-
gole, that spot of many prayers, who was hunger-
ing and thirsting after righteousness.

Pentiah knew of a way to do. He said, " Come
with me to the house by the hillside, to a lady
who is a friend of the Nellore Missionary. She
will know what to do." They went, made a

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 125

respectful salaam, and Pentiah, as spokesman
said : " Ammah, this man, Thatiah, as he went
north on trade, saw a missionary who told him
that a white teacher would come to Ongole. He
believes in Christ as God, and has come to see
this teacher. As he does not find him here, he
is very sad, and wants to know the reason of
the delay. We have, therefore, come to make
his request known to you."

The lady understood. She said to Thatiah :
" I shall write to the Nellore Missionary. Be
ready to come at any time when I send for
you."

Not many days had passed when a cooley
arrived in Thatiah's village, asking him to come
to Ongole, for the Missionary had come. With
his wife, Satyamah, he hastened on his way, barely
taking needed rest as they walked the fifty miles.
The joy when he saw the Nellore Missionary,
and with him a younger man, who was soon to
become the Ongole Missionary, is described by
Thatiah as unspeakable. The older of the two
men had been stoned in the bazaar of Ongole
in the years gone by. But now, in the spot where

126 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

his message had been spurned, he had a man
before him who could not hear enough. A holy-
joy shone in the face of the one man ; a yearning
desire to hear more was in the face of the other
as he sat hour after hour quenching his thirst.

Outcasts from their own community, Thatiah
and his wife had made their way to Ongole.
Received into the religious fellowship of the
race that rules over India, they returned home.
They could not have had more than a very dim
conception of the fact that they were now counted
among the hosts of men and women who repre-
sent the salt of the earth, yet they knew that
their days of isolation were over. With a bundle
of tracts and books on their shoulders, as many
as they could carry, with the words of benediction
from their white teachers ringing in their ears,
and a new light in their countenances, they re-
turned to their own village.

And now that ceaseless activity began that
bore such abundant fruit. With untiring devotion
Thatiah journeyed from village to village, his
wife Satyamah always with him. The women
loved Satyamah, and would gather about her

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 127

and ask her whether she was not tired and thirsty
after her journey, and take her away to refresh
her. Late in life a mild insanity rendered her
helpless. With a display of the same faithfulness
which she had shown in accompanying her hus-
band during twenty years, he now cared for her
with a gentleness which called forth comment in
the Madiga community. When her mind wan-
dered, he took her by the hand, bade her sit
down, and gave her to eat.

Thatiah stood like a granite pillar in the early
days of the mission. He was a leader among
his people, when the Madiga community was
astir in discarding the old beliefs and accept-
ing the new. He carried himself like a man of
experience, of authority, in his humble sphere,
to whose opinions deference should be paid. His
bold features, measured gait, and a certain innate
dignity, blended with a childlike humility, won
for him the respect of all whom he addressed.

In his preaching he was not like other men,
who had not pondered Rajayogi problems. He
was wont to begin his discourses with some of
the peculiar combinations of the Shastris. He

128 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

would say, " The alphabet has five lines each
way, thus also the body is composed of five
elements. There is another five : two to hear,
two to see, one to speak. But there is yet another
five : the five wounds of Christ." By this time
the interest of his hearers was aroused ; it was
a mode of proceeding congenial to the Hindu
mind. In later years, when men trained in the
Theological Seminary made their influence felt,
critics arose, who said Thatiah might at last
wheel into line. It was a species of the old
strife between philosophy and theology. But
Thatiah held his own. Hundreds believed in
the Christ through his preaching. Spiritually-
minded to an eminent degree, there was power
in his words and his example.

In his old age Thatiah journeyed to Ongole
once more. Slowly they brought him to his
accustomed place on the platform of the chapel
on Sunday morning. The Missionary stopped in
his sermon to put him in his own chair. He
saw the look of wonder on the faces of some of
the younger generation, who knew little of the
old days and its leaders. His heart was very

A SEARCH FOR TRUTH 129

tender toward the man who had never moved
an inch from his God-appointed task, who had
stood by his side in the days of small begin-
nings, in the days of calamity and of overwhelm-
ing responsibility.

He turned to the hundreds of listeners before
him : " Do you want to know who this man is ?
I will tell you. When you get to heaven — and
I hope you will all get there — you will see some
one who looks radiant with light, far above you.
You will almost need a telescope to see him
distinctly, the distance between you and him
will be so great. And you will ask some one,
' Who is that man clothed in exceeding bright-
ness ? ' Then you will be told, * That man is
Bangarapu Thatiah from the Telugu country.'
And you will strain your eyes to behold him."

There was a look of reverence on many a
face as the Missionary proceeded with his sermon.
A year later Thatiah's spirit took its flight.

W.S.S.

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION

In the language of Western civilization Pullikuri
Lukshmiah would have been called " a fast young
man." He decked himself with earrings, finger-
rings, bangles, belts, and various jewels, all of them
conspicuous for glitter — not for their value. Red
turbans and bright-coloured jackets lay in the
box ready for use. He frequented places where
there was dancing, singing, and festivity of every
kind. Sin and lust grew apace, until a sense of
disgust with the whole situation began to creep
into his soul. He was weary of it all, and one
day, he did not know from whence, the thought
came : What if I should die ?

At this juncture one of the wandering disciples
of the Yogi Veerabramham came into the village
and attracted Lukshmiah's attention. All his
earnings were now spent on paying fees and

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION 131

giving gifts to this wandering Guru. He was
bent on finding out something that might show
him a way to salvation ; he desired to secure a
blissful state of the soul after death. But the
days passed and he heard nothing definite, and
one morning the Guru had taken his staff and
wandered to the next place. But soon another
came. Lukshmiah hovered around him. He did
his share in giving the Guru to eat bountifully.
He saw him partake of the intoxicating sarai
freely, and then roll into a corner to sleep off the
effects. After a few months he too went his way,
and Lukshmiah found that he was none the wiser
in knowledge. •

Six Gurus were thus supported by Lukshmiah,
wholly or in part, some for weeks, some for
months. The rumour had spread in the Madiga
community that he had lost interest in fine clothes
and jewels, and was sitting at the feet of Rajayogi
Gurus. Soon one after another of those who
could claim some degree of kinship to him came
to take advantage of this circumstance. They
were his guests while they inquired of him con
cerning the hymns and mantras which he had

132 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

heard, and the initiation through which he had
passed. They were introduced to the Guru who
happened to hold sway for the time being, and
there was much inquiry and interest among them.
Some of the friends came again and again.
Bangarapu Thatiah, too, was sometimes among
them, especially after Bandikatla Veeramah had
gone away. A sense of cohesion was established
among these men which lasted through many a
year, for almost every member of this group
became a strong force in Christian propaganda
in the years that followed.

An honest search for truth is never wholly in
vain. Lukshmiah and his friends had risen above
the superstitions of the ordinary Madiga. They
wanted something better, which shows that they
had outgrown the beliefs of their childhood. Each
individually tried what the abstractions of the
Yogi could do to still the hunger of the soul.
Friendship and a common interest had led them
to meet and find out what the result on each
might be. Each in his way had grown dis-
heartened.

One after another of the friends went north to

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION 133

trade in hides. Lukshmiah remained behind with
the Guru Balli Somiah, who had been his in*
structor for two years. He lived in the village
proper, with the Sudras, but his chief supporter
was Lukshmiah. This meant a constant drain
upon his resources. He was already deeply in
debt. The Komati who had lent him money at
different times demanded the interest, and it
was compound interest. The hospitality freely
offered to his friends and co-searchers in truth
had cost him far beyond his means. They were
gone, and there was a rumour that they were
again banded together in the north, and that now
they were investigating a religion which had come
from the land of the English.

Lukshmiah decided to go north, and hoped that
by the lucrative trade in hides he might cancel
a part of his debt. But what should he do with
the Guru Somiah, who showed no intention of
leaving? It might prove dangerous to tell him
that he could no longer support him, or to simply
go away, leaving him in the lurch ; for could he
not pronounce a curse over him? But the pre-
sence and the sway of the Guru Somiah grew

134 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

daily more irksome, till finally a way appeared
to get rid of him. Lukshmiah knew that the
Guru had a brother living in that northern dis-
trict. He said to him : " Your disciples are all
in the north, earning much money. I must go
too ; for my debts are very heavy. If you will
come with me, you will find support." Thus the
journey was undertaken.

Disappointment awaited the Guru Somiah when
he reached the little settlement of his former fol-
lowers. They wanted him no more. For the
sake of old relationship they gave him food, but
they omitted the sarai. He complained bitterly
because the customary beverage was withheld.
The friends talked it over and agreed to help
Lukshmiah to get rid of his burden. They put
together ten rupees and sent the Guru to his
brother. Bangarapu Thatiah alone stood aloof,
and said : " I shall give nothing. Send him
away empty-handed as he came." But Pullikuri
Lukshmiah rejoiced ; for the presence of the Guru
had hindered him greatly in making any progress
in finding out what this new religion was.

To Lukshmiah, in the years that followed, the

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION 135

mere mention of his former Gurus seemed like a
breath of poison. It was the worthless character
of the men that had obliterated anything of truth
which might have lain hidden in their teaching.
He says of those days : " I took hold of the feet
of the disciples of Pothuluri Veerabramham and
hoped to get salvation through them, but it was
all in vain. What is the use of trusting in a
bundle of wind ? I thought I was doing pious
deeds when I drank sarai with those Pothuluri
people, but there was not the smell even of piety
about me. However much husk you eat will
hunger go ? "

He had taken the lead among the friends in
trying to get salvation in the Rajayogi sect. It
had all come to nothing. He had wasted his
substance on Gurus. In the investigations con-
cerning the new religion he found the others in
advance, and he must follow. One after another
of the little colony of Madiga traders up in the
Godavery district started on his homeward jour-
ney. He and his kinsman, Ragaviah, remained
behind, intent on speculations that would bring
financial gain.

136 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

Rumours had been brought to them that a
missionary had come to Ongole, that everybody
was talking about the new religion, and that some
had said they would join this Christian sect.
They longed for certain news, and were glad
indeed when one day a friend and neighbour came
from the old home on business, and visited them
to tell them what had happened. The Ongole
Missionary had come to Tallakondapaud and
baptized twenty-eight, among them Lukshmiah's
brother and his son, Ragaviah's son, and others
of their friends and relatives.

After the visitor had left, the two men sat down
together, sad at heart ; they could hardly keep
back the tears. Lukshmiah said : " The brother
born after me and my own son are on the way
to heaven before me. I cannot stay here longer."
The next day they proceeded to hire sixteen
bandies, to load one hundred hides on each, and
to start for home. Eight bandy-loads were sold
on the way, and with the remaining eight they
arrived at home. Their sons, they found, were in
Ongole in school, and they were glad that that
which had been denied to them was being granted

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION 137

to their children. The Missionary had been in-
formed of their return home, and a preacher was
sent to tell them much about the religion of
Christ that was new to them.

Lukshmiah was heavily in debt when he bade
farewell to the last of the six Gurus of the
Rajayogi sect on whom he had spent his sub-
stance. His former associates in the search for
truth had become preachers, and were enduring
the toil and enjoying the honours of their posi-
tion. Lukshmiah held aloof When questioned,
he pointed to his debt. The fact was that the
debt was an excuse, for as the years passed all
was paid, with the exception, perhaps, of some of
the compound interest. Lukshmiah was a man
who preferred to be his own master. He did not
want to become a link in the chain of organized
preachers' work, but wanted to go about on his
trade, make money, preach when and where he
liked, and be answerable to no one.

Six years thus passed. The Missionary asked
him, whenever he came to Ongole to the monthly
meeting, whether the time had not come for him
to cease going about on trade and to stay and do

138 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

God's work in earnest. He always replied he
would come, but never came. Finally the scales
were turned. It was a word from the Missionary
that compelled him. Lukshmiah's son was leaving
school and returning home for vacation. The
Missionary told the young man to say to his
father that the Dora sent salaams to him. He
added : " When I call your father to work, he
does not come ; he runs about the country like a
masterless dog." This word travelled over the
country. Lukshmiah laughed at the time, and
laughs to-day as he tells the story. The preachers
all laughed ; for they saw that Lukshmiah's un-
determined position was well characterized by the
Dora's words. But Lukshmiah's son said, ".You
must go " ; and the father, still laughing, agreed
that he must, but not just at present. What
pleased Lukshmiah was that he had measured
his strength with that of the Missionary, and in
honest combat had been outdone. He was strong
in holding aloof, but the Missionary was stronger
in wheeling him right about and making him
face his real position.

Soon after this the Missionary made an exten-

SIX GURUS IN SUCCESSION 139

sive tour through the Kanigiri Taluk. He saw
that Lukshmiah, who joined the other preachers
in accompanying him, was in fact the spiritual
leader and pastor of a number of Christians in
all the region round about his own village. Before
they separated he had a talk with Lukshmiah and
his wife. He said, " What would you like to do,
Lukshmiah ? " He replied, " I would like to
engage in the Lord's service, but have a debt."
The Missionary knew that this was all by way of
excuse. He took a piece of paper that was lying
on the table, tore it into small shreds, threw the
handful of them over Lukshmiah, so that they
flew to every corner of the tent, and said, " That
is how your debt is gone." He gave him a
friendly tap on the shoulder and sent him home.
On his way to his own village, Lukshmiah was
stung in the face by a poisonous insect. Soon
there was a painful swelling, and people said,
" He will surely die ; a Komati was thus stung
and died." Lukshmiah was very anxious about
this, and on the second day took the Bible to see
whether he could not find something to comfort
him at the prospect of a speedy death. He hap-

140 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

pened to turn to the chapters on the prophet
Jonah's experience, and thought to himself that
he too had fallen into trouble for refusing to
preach as he was sent. He dictated a letter to
the Dora : " I am coming, and will go to work."
Two days later the swelling disappeared. He
arose, visited a number of villages, preaching
everywhere, and arrived in Ongole at the time
of the monthly meeting.

The Dora saw him among the other preachers
and smiled knowingly. " Have you come, Luksh-
miah ? "

* I have come."

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI

As the Madigas of Yerrapallem came home
from the fields at noon one day, they noticed
some one sitting at a little distance from the vil-
lage, as if taking rest from a journey. They
said among themselves : " Who is this ? Let us
enquire his errand." One of them called the
stranger to come under the large trees near their
houses. .

As he approached the group of men, he said :
" My name is Bandaru Pulliah. I have come
from Ongole, and have a way of salvation to
make known to you. Will you hear it?" It
was the noon hour, and the shade of the trees
was pleasant. Why should they not hear some-
thing that was new and that excited curiosity?

There was a shrine of Ramaswami under one
of the trees, where the Madigas of the village

141

142 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

offered puja at stated intervals. Those who were
ready to listen had grouped themselves in various
attitudes, suggestive of ease and rest, but all at
respectful distance from the shrine of the swami.
PuUiah, to the astonishment of all, seated him-
self under the projecting roof of the shrine, and
placed his feet, still covered with his sandals,
against the wall of the shrine. They were a-
peaceful people before whom he thus displayed
his contempt for the god, Ramaswami ; they
showed no sign of anger, but they feared for
Pulliah. They had never dared go near the
shrine with their sandals on their feet, lest the
god smite them in wrath ; but Pulliah smiled at
their ejaculations of astonishment and fear. " Is
the holy God in this shrine ? Don't fear ; no
harm will come to me."

They watched him all that afternoon, and as
they listened to this fearless man, who talked
freely of Jesus Christ, his sandalled feet mean-
time boldly defiling the Ramaswami shrine, their
respect for their god ebbed low, and they began
to regard Pulliah in the light of an honoured
guest.

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 143

When evening came, a little hesitation was
felt with regard to asking him to eat with them ;
for he had told them frankly that Christians
considered the practice of eating carrion both
injurious and disgusting ; yet they intended to
care for his wants. The Madiga headman of the
village asked him, therefore, whether he would
come and eat with them of boiled rice and a
little pepper sauce, or whether they should ask
a Sudra to prepare his food for him. The lat-
ter course had to be taken whenever a Hindu
Guru came to instruct them ; but Pulliah de-
clined this. He said, " Never mind ; I'll eat
with you."

They took him right in with them as one of
themselves. The wife of the headman gave him
to eat on a plate made of dried leaves sewn to-
gether, while she laid the food before her hus-
band and sons in little earthenware bowls. The
plate of leaves had never been used, and would
be thrown away when Pulliah had ended his
meal. This was considered a very genteel way
of respecting the stranger's ideas of cleanliness.

That night the villagers sat in the white moon-

144 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

light for hours listening to the stories of the
divine life and death of the Christ, and to the
explanations concerning the precepts of the new
religion which Pulliah gave to them. They
agreed that all he had told them seemed like
a bright light as compared to the darkness in
which they had thus far been living.

Pulliah was urged to remain with these kindly
people for two days, and it happened while he
was with them that their Guru came to look
after the spiritual welfare of his followers, and at
the same time after his own material interests.
He generally sat down and said : " Cut a fowl !
Make rice and curry ! Bring sarai ! " The lads
of the family would press his limbs, saying,
" The Guru is tired," and hope in this way to
receive divine reward.

But this time the reception given to the Guru
lacked that element of devout reverence for his
person to which he was accustomed. The vil*
lagers poured water and washed his feet, but
they omitted to catch it again in bowls, and to
drink it in the hope of eternal reward. The
Guru met with a quiet air of resistance when,

A HINDU GURU.

[Pai-e 144-

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 145

as usual, he demanded fowls and intoxicating
drink for his meal. As he sat under the tree no
one asked for his mantras, but, instead, he heard
how Pulliah told the villagers that, if they wanted
to become Christians, they must have their juttus
cut off, for no Christian could have a lock of hair
growing on his head to afford a dwelling-place
for a swami. Pulliah carried a pair of scissors
ever in his pocket ; for hundreds of juttus was
he called upon to cut off in his wanderings. The
men of the village bent their heads and said,
"Cut them off." While all were thus engaged,
and even the young boys came and asked to be
shorn of their top-knots, the Guru arose. He
looked neither to the right nor to the left ; he
made salaam to no one ; he went away and
never returned.

It was decidedly in Pulliah's favour as he went
about, gaining access to many a Madiga house-
hold, that he was generally considered well-
connected by family relationship. The Madigas
manifest their clannish spirit by seeking to es-
tablish new relationships by intermarriage of
families, and such connections, though often re-

W.S.S. 10

146 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

mote, are cherished. Many a door was opened
to PulHah because his family had had an in-
terest in a marriage that had at some time been
celebrated between a man of one family and a
girl of another.

Another circumstance in his favour was the
fact that he had been much with the Rajayogi
people in his boyhood. He was familiar with
their phraseology, their customs and beliefs ; in
short, he spoke their language, and was, therefore,
recognised as one of them wherever he went.
Pulliah was related to Bangarapu Thatiah and
other men who for a time took an interest in
the Rajayogi sect. In his wanderings he sought,
therefore, first of all for Rajayogi people ; for they
had gone beyond the swamis of the Madiga vil-
lage, and had at least the desire to know and
see the one God, whom they had been taught to
worship. It was a joyful mission to tell such
seekers that God had become incarnate in the
man Jesus Christ.

When Pulliah left Yerrapallem, the heads of the
several leading families of the village assured him
that idol-worship would from henceforth be

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 147

stopped, that Sunday should be a day of rest,
and that no carrion should be brought into the
village. They promised to pray to Jesus Christ,
on their knees, as they had seen him do. Some
months passed ; Pulliah came often. Two of the
older men began to ask, " Why should we not
be baptized ? " Pulliah offered to take them with
him to Ongole at the time of the monthly meet-
ing, and with a staff in their hands and a little
bundle of cooked rice on their shoulders they
began their journey of forty miles.

There were others who were journeying on the
same road. Here and there they were joined by
fellow-travellers. If the little company stopped at
some Madiga hamlet by the road, to ask for
water to drink, they had to give an account of
their motives for undertaking this journey. They
met Yettis on the way, who carried the news far
and near that more Madigas were on the way
to Ongole. Toward evening of the third day
they entered the mission compound. Groups of
men and women were sitting around the little
fires kindled under pots of rice, waiting till the
women should announce that it had cooked

148 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

enough. There was much talking, much question-
ing, much interchange of experience. There was
a hospitable, brotherly spirit, too, as they cared
for each other's wants.

The preachers took an interest in the experi-
ence of the two men from Yerrapallem. The
Missionary talked with them. They felt some
hesitation when they saw his white face, for they
had never before seen a Dora. He spread mats
on the floor and asked them to sit down, since
they were unaccustomed to chairs. And then the
Dorasani came and put plantains into the hands
of her little children to take to these visitors, and
she talked with them. Their fears soon went.

One of them was received for baptism ; con-
cerning the second, Papiah, a serious obstacle
arose in the way. He had two wives, and was,
therefore, put off. The men were astonished, for
it had not entered their minds that this might
be an objection. They said to themselves : " We
did not know that this was sin. We Hindus do
such things. But if it is not God's will, then it
must be stopped."

It was an arrangement which had been made

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 149

by Papiah's mother. Her niece, whose husband
had deserted her, was destitute, and the old
mother saw no reason why she should not be
brought into Papiah's house as a second wife, for
thus she would be provided with a home. The
first wife was made unhappy by this arrange-
ment ; but she had only a daughter, no son, and,
therefore, was not given a voice in the matter.
She was deeply angry with her husband, and
refused to be on friendly terms with the new
wife ; but there was no help for her : she had to
bear the ills of her new position in silence, lest
she should be harshly treated, or even beaten.

When the travellers returned from Ongole, the
matter was thoroughly discussed in the village.
The old mother was angry, and wanted to know
who had ever heard that a man should not have
two wives. The preachers came and went during
the weeks that followed, and tried to explain
matters to those who enquired for the reason why
Papiah should have been refused baptism. They
spoke of Adam and Eve, that God gave to Adam
only one wife ; they insisted that, according to
the teachings of the New Testament, the man and

150 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

both the women would lose the salvation of their
souls. The preachers were themselves men who
until recently had not been aware of the religious
and ethical transgression involved in the practice
of polygamy. The Madigas, among whom the
standard of social morality is, in some of its
aspects, very low, were thus suddenly brought
face to face with the purer conceptions of mar-
ried life as upheld by Christian civilization.

After the matter had been thoroughly discussed
by all the family, and those who objected to the
introduction of ideas contrary to the customs of
Indian village life had been silenced, a way was
found out of the difficulty. The second wife
had relatives in the village, who offered her a
home with them. She had a child, but it was a
girl ; had it been a boy, her fate might have been
different. There had been no marriage ceremony ;
she, therefore, went as she had come. Her child
died soon after, and she went to live with another
man, again without ceremony. The first and only
legitimate wife of Papiah now had peace once
more.

There was a social as well as a religious up-

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 151

heaval wherever Christianity entered the Madiga
community. The pure precepts of the new reli-
gion were taken up by one family after another.
The juttu was cut off as the outward sign of a
religious change. But when a man sat apart at
meal-time because carrion was boiling in the pot,
it was regarded as the signal of a change of a
social nature. " Do you see him ? He will not
eat ! He, too, is going to that Ongole religion ! "
Sometimes persecution within the family circle
followed, and there were sad and weary days and
months for the heretic.

When Christian families had visitors who still
continued the old customs, they gave them to eat
as much as they wanted, but refused to let them
touch the earthen plates of the family. Their
food was put on old plates that could be thrown
away when they had finished. They gave them
to drink from the brass cup, because it could after-
wards be scoured with sand. They said : " We
turn sick when you touch our food. You are un-
clean." Instead of being ostracized, they were the
ones who ostracized the others.

Many a man and a woman who was deaf to

152 CHRISTIANITY AND THE GURUS

spiritual advice first leant an ear because he was
despised by the family on account of his noisome
food. Legends and traditions spoke of the curse
pronounced over the Madigas, that they should be
carrion-eaters. Nothing had had power to lift
the curse until now it was fought in Christian
family-centres. Argument was unnecessary. Did
not many among them succumb to disease, the
direct consequence of their loathsome food ? Did
not the suffering of the children in the villages
bear evidence of the filthy habits of their parents ?
...- A new day had dawned. The gospel of cleanli-
ness had entered in. When filth departs, ignor-
ance must go with it. Only a few years after
the day when Pulliah had fearlessly placed his
sandalled feet upon the shrine of Ramaswami, a
teacher came from ,Ongole to settle in the village
Yerrapallem. Willing hands offered to raise
the mud walls of the little school-house. Each
household contributed to the thatch for the roof
The beam, too, was finally paid for, and made
ready by the village carpenter.

As for the site of the school-house, it was
decided that the shrine of Ramaswami must yield

THE SILENCE OF RAMASWAMI 153

its place. The Sudras shook their heads in doubt,
but when several preachers came to help' make
room for the school-house, the courage of the Chris-
tians rose high. They took the pick-axe and
shovel. The walls of the shrine fell. A little snake
that lay in a crevice was disturbed. It raised its
head and hissed but once before the death-blow
fell. But Ramaswami must have been afar off
He gave no sign of wrath.

FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

Nasriah the Reformer
Longing to See God ;
His Mother's Curse

NASRIAH THE REFORMER

It happened again and again that men and
women told me, " Before I became a Christian I
belonged to the Nasriah sect."

I naturally enquired what this sect was.

"The Gurus of the Nasriah sect came to us
and said, ' Don't steal, don't worship idols, don't
drink sarai.' It was a good religion, for they
taught us that there is only one God."

" Did many Madigas belong to it ? "

The answers were vague. One man said there
were at least one hundred. The next man said
there must have been one thousand. The third
man said, " How can I know ? "

I asked many questions. Who was this
Nasriah? When did he live? Where in the
multiplicity of Hindu cults was his teaching to be

157

158 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

classed ? I found a man who said he had been
in Tiprantakamu at the annual feast of the
Nasriah sect. Another said he had seen Sund-
ramah, the last surviving disciple of Nasriah.

Finally I heard of a man, a Madiga, who was
said to have seen Nasriah himself. I sent for him.
He came — a stern old man, with Roman nose and
shaggy brows. " Did you, yourself, see Nasriah ? "

He laid five finger-tips in each eye ; he bent
towards me, and the attitude and tenseness of his
body emphasized his words : " With these eyes I
saw Nasriah."

Thus I had Nasriah placed as to time. This
man was seventy years old, at most seventy-five.
His father had been carried away with the reli-
gious movement produced by Nasriah, and had
taken him, as a little boy, to Tiprantakamu.
There the lad had seen Nasriah, a few years before
his death, which must have occurred about the
year 1825.

I hoped to hear something about the personality
of the remarkable man, Nasriah, whose influence
was so wide-spread, even after many years. But
the stern old man before me could tell me no-

NASRIAH THE REFORMER 159

thing about the man, though he was ready to tell
me much about the sect which bears his name.
For years he was an initiated Guru of that sect.
I gathered from him all he could tell me, but the
more I heard the more I desired to know who this
Nasriah was. I sent word in several directions
whether there was any man living who remembered
hearing his father tell any story about the Guru
Nasriah. Thus a Mohammedan was discovered
whose father had been an initiated disciple of
Nasriah, and had often told him the story of the
way in which Nasriah became so great a Guru.
He himself had seen him when a young boy.
He was now an old man, and the story which he
told is characteristic of the religious life of India.
There lived, a hundred years ago, a Moham-
medan of the Syed sect, who was a wealthy trader.
He owned several ships, and often went on long
voyages. On one of his voyages, Galep Sherif —
for such was his name — met with a Guru whose
teaching attracted him. He asked for instruction,
and then proceeded to obey his teacher implicitly.
His lucrative business was given up. In the
Baputla Taluk he built himself a temple, where he

i6o FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

dwelt, and many came to hear his teaching. His
main doctrine was that there is only one God.

The Rajah of Narsaravapetta heard of Galep
Sherif and the supernatural power which he pos-
sessed to work miraculous deeds. He sent his
messenger to invite the Guru to his palace, inti-
mating that he had some inclination to become
his disciple. Galep Sherif came. He waited a
day or two, but the Rajah delayed to summon
him to his presence. Not willing to wait longer,
he arose and started on his homeward journey.

Now the Rajah had an attendant, Nasr
Mahomed by name, of the Shaik sect, who was
deeply interested in this Guru. He followed him
as he left the palace, fell at his feet, and begged
to be instructed as his disciple. The Guru de-
manded an initiation fee of four hundred rupees.
So intent was Nasr Mahomed on receiving the
desired instruction that he promised the fee,
though he knew he had nothing wherewith to pay
it. After he had been taught even the power to
perform miracles, the day approached when he
must pay the promised fee. Nasr Mahomed rose
up and fled. He reached Tiprantakamu, where

NASRIAH THE REFORMER i6i

there was a Hindu temple. The attendants at
the temple and the worshippers who came listened
to his teaching, and the number of his followers
increased daily.

Galep Sherif became aware of the hiding-place
of his disciple, Nasr Mahomed, and appeared in
person at the temple to demand the promised fee.
There was deliberation among the followers of
Nasr Mahomed. They said : " He is a great Guru.
Let us pay his debt, and then let us build him a
temple. He will stay among us, and we shall earn
salvation." Galep Sherif received his fee and
went his way. A large temple was built, and ere
long the influence of the new Guru was felt far
and near. The common people gave to the
Mohammedan name Nasr the Telugu ending, and
thus the sect became known as the Nasriah sect.

And what was the creed of Nasriah ? By birth
he was a Mohammedan, yet I never heard that he
or his followers mentioned Mohammed, the prophet.
The Guru with whom Galep Sherif came in
contact on his voyage must have been a Yogi.
The teaching of Nasriah is largely Yogi doctrine.
In fact, his followers called themselves Rajayogi

W.S.S. 1 1

i62 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

people. The Mohammedan and the Yogi alike
assert that there is one God.

The following instructions for devotion, given
by Nasriah, coincide with Yogi doctrine : - " Con-
centrate your mind. Put away all secret thoughts.
Turn the eye upward. Forget the existence of the
body. Let the sight turn towards the coil of hair
on top of the head (as worn by sanyasis). Gaze
with firm mind. The following will appear : Light,
angelic spirits, sacred rivers and places, also Rishis,
the sun and moon, lightning, thunder, fire, water,
sound will fill the heavens, the earth will appear
as if it were an eggy Brahma will be seen, all as
if one."

Nasriah made disciples and sent them out to
preach. He made no distinction of either caste or
sex. Women as well as men passed through the
initiatory rites, and then went forth to make con-
verts. I enquired about these rites, but came upon
a solid wall of silence every time. The most that
any one told me was that something was whis-
pered into their ear which must never be passed
on to any one who was not in turn found worthy
to receive initiation.

NASRIAH THE REFORMER 163

During the life-time of Nasriah his disciples
feared to do what he had forbidden. He rebuked
them when he found that sarai and bhang were
used by them. He frowned on caste distinction.
He was a man whose righteous indignation could
overpower him. Even those who could not tell
me who Nasriah was could tell of his act of
vengeance when he shed blood to mark his
hatred of lust. He heard one day the cry of
one of his female disciples who was being insulted
and injured. He caught the evil-doer, and stabbed
him in the heart. Nothing was done to him, for,
though he was imprisoned, none could hold him.
The common people saw him pass through the
prison walls and walk about in the bazaar while
the keepers stood at the prison door. Such were
the tales told of Nasriah, and they explain much
of the powerful hold which he had upon the
people.

After his death the sect became corrupt. His
disciples said it could do no harm to worship idols.
In their ethical precepts they grew lax. Why
should not a man steal if he could do so without
exposure ? It was irksome to abstain from sarai

1 64 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

and bhang. It seems that even the most revolt-
ing forms of Sakti-worship entered the sect.

I doubt whether the separate temple for the
Madigas at Tiprantakamu was built during the
life-time of Nasriah. He would not have per-
mitted such emphasis on caste-distinction. One
of his earliest converts seems to have been a
Madiga, who was made a Guru, and was sent out
to convert his people. To belong to the Nasriah
sect meant advancement to the Madigas.
They realized that the theism of Nasriah was
better than the polytheism of their village cults.
One man said to me : " A Yogi first told me that
I am of sinful nature, and must seek to earn salva-
tion. I never before had thought of myself in that
way." Another man said : " Beside our own vil-
lage gods, I worshipped the idols of Vishnu.
But when the Rajayogi people came and told me
that there is one God, and that idols are useless,
I believed them. It was much better than any-
thing I had before heard." It raised the Madigas
in the social scale, too, to belong to the Nasriah
sect, for when they went to Tiprantakamu in the
autumn of the year to the annual feast, they

NASRIAH THE REFORMER 165

stood in a line with people of all castes and
classes.

Whole families went to the feast together.
They took with them a goat, fowls, rice, tamarind,
and the various spices used for curry. All these
they delivered to Sundramah, as they bowed
low before her with special reverence, for she
was the last of the band of disciples who gathered
around Nasriah. They laid flowers on the grave
of Nasriah, and worshipped there. Sundramah
took all that was brought, and passed it on for
the general cooking. The food for all who came,
regardless of caste, was boiled in one pot, and
when it was time to eat, all sat down and ate
together. But the Madigas sat a little to one
side. Not even in the Nasriah sect would the
Sudra sit side by side with the Madiga and eat
with him.

When the movement toward Christianity began
among the Madigas, the men and women who had
sought salvation in the Nasriah sect were among
the first to open their hearts to the divine life that
is in Christ. The followers of Nasriah became the
disciples of Christ. At Tiprantakamu it was said.

i66 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

" The Madigas are leaving us." Some shrugged
their shoulders. " What can we do to hold them ?
They are following a new religion." Others said,
" Let them go." And thus the Nasriah sect
became to many a man as the memory of a
stepping-stone to something higher.

LONGING TO SEE GOD

The fame of the Ulluri family was spread
abroad in the land, not for their wealth, nor for
leadership in great and noble deeds, but be-
cause they were devout. They had given to their
Guru, Poliah, a cow worth sixteen rupees. This
was considered a very noble gift to offer to a
Guru, and established the reputation of the family
for religious devotion.

Chinnapudy Poliah, though wholly illiterate,
seems to have been a man possessed of a severe
type of earnestness, that distinguished him from
others, and supported his claim to being a Guru.
He was a man who indulged in deep meditation,
and was a dreamer of dreams. One day he
reasoned in this wise : " The swami at Kottapa-
konda and the swamis at other places where

167

i68 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

people go to worship were all made by men.
Now who made these men ? Who made earth
and heaven ? Must I die without seeing God ? "
His father was a follower of Nasriah. It was one
of the earliest recollections of Poliah that his
father took him to Tiprantakamu to see Nasriah.
The lad never forgot the man who lived in poverty,
like a sanyasi, ever ready to talk with any one of
his chief doctrine — that there is only one God.
Nasriah planted antagonism to idol-worship into
the mind of the boy, and with it a restless desire
to see God.

In his ministrations to the Ulluri family the
Guru, Poliah, knew how to clothe his ignorance
round about with a mantle of profound reverence.
There were hymns and mantras which he taught
them. He had caught a word here and there of
the philosophy of the Rajayogi people, and gave
a glimpse of his wisdom on special occasions to
his followers ; but as soon as he found himself
going beyond his depth, he withdrew with that
air of mystery which is so fascinating to simple-
minded people. He would promise to tell them
more next time, and thus kept them ever filled

LONGING TO SEE GOD 169

with curiosity, and on the alert, wondering what
he would tell them when he came again.

One of the promises which Poliah was ever
holding out to his followers was that they should
see God. Now the aged father of the family had
a great desire to see God. He was respected by
all, and his sons began to consider the matter in
earnest. They talked with Poliah, who demanded
fifteen rupees as a fee. They thought this was
too much. He waxed eloquent in describing the
severe test which he had to undergo before he
acquired the knowledge of the mystic formulae.
He pointed out that the whole family would
without doubt obtain salvation if one of their
number succeeded through his efforts in seeing
God. Finally, Poliah agreed to be satisfied with
eleven rupees, and the night was decided upon
when the attempt should be made.

Ten men and women, who had faith, and
were filled with the desire to see God, sat to-
gether at midnight in the house of the Ulluri
family. Two little oil-lamps stood in niches in
the wall, shedding a dim light on the scene. The
Guru sat in the centre, his followers in a circle

170 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

around him. He sang hymns and invocations of
the Nasriah sect, and then proceeded to draw
mystic circles, saying mantras as [he drew them.
His demeanour inspired awe, and his followers
held their breath and feared to move.

At last the decisive moment had come. He
motioned to all to withdraw, leaving only the
aged father within. More mantras were said,
more mystic figures were drawn, and then the
father of the Ulluri family laid his fingers against
his eyes, ears, and nostrils, as Poliah had previously
instructed him to do. He understood, too, that he
was thus to shut off all connection with the outer
world, and to perceive God with an inner sense.

A little time elapsed, and then Poliah asked, in
an awed whisper, whether he saw anything.

" All looks red and green, and in it I see some-
thing as if it were the picture of a man."

" It is God," said Poliah ; " you have seen
Him."

Dazed and full of wonder, the old man joined
his children without. He thought it over many
a day, as he sat in the shade of the house, his
grandchildren playing around him. Many came

LONGING TO SEE GOD 171

and went, and he had to tell them how it all
seemed to him. It was a source of deep satis-
faction to the good old man, and his sons did not
begrudge the money it cost them.

Some years had passed when, one day, Wasipogu
Bassiah came to Maduluri to get the tools with
which he did his leather-work sharpened. He
was a friend of the Ulluri family, and went to
them for a visit before he returned to his home,
three miles distant. While they were talking of
this and that, he asked whether they had heard of
the new religion, which a Dora had brought to
Ongole, and which was said to be a good religion.
They had not, but asked for further information.
Bassiah could not satisfy them ; he had only heard
that those who believe in this religion are saved
through one, Jesus Christ, that He must be wor-
shipped, and no other swamis whatsoever beside
Him. Moreover, a Yetti had told him that he
knew several Madigas who had joined this new
sect, and they did no work on Sunday, nor would
they allow carrion to be brought into their vil-
lage.

Bassiah went home. Near his house he found

172 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

a man sitting under a tree, evidently resting after
a journey. He had enquired for the Madiga
headman of the village, and was told he would
soon come. As headman it was Bassiah's duty to
receive strangers, to enquire after their errands, and
lend assistance if there was an appeal to him in
his official capacity. Now when Bassiah heard that
the man before him, Baddepudy Kanniah, was a
follower of the sect which worships Jesus Christ,
he was glad. He cared for his wants ; in fact, he
took charge of Kanniah. The tribal system of
the Indian village community thus lent itself as a
vehicle to Christian propaganda. Next day they
went to Maduluri, and were well received as
guests. They were asked to sit on a raised seat,
made of stone, and as the villagers gathered
around, Bassiah told them why Kanniah had
come to them, and they agreed that it would be
well to listen to all he had to say.

Little was said at the time, but after their
visitors were gone some among the villagers
expressed an opinion that it would be well to
hear more about this religion, and proposed that
they extend an invitation to come again in the

LONGING TO SEE GOD i73

evening, to eat with them, and then to talk more.
This was done. Two men were sent to extend
the invitation of the villagers, which was accepted.
Kanniah had the best of opportunities that night.
All were intent on hearing ; the little children were
asleep, and only the occasional barking of the
village dogs broke the silence of the night. The
hearts of the listeners were stirred within them
when they heard the story of the death of Christ ;
and then, when Kanniah prayed after the manner
of the Christian, who does not hesitate to make
his thoughts known to his Father who is in heaven,
they felt that they had never known anything like
this before, and they said among themselves in the
days that followed: "Why should we go on as
heretofore ? There is no salvation in all that we
have been doing."

As the younger men of the Ulluri family were
discussing the new religion with several young
kinsmen, who had come from a little distance, as
soon as they heard from a passing Yetti that
strange things were taking place in Maduluri, the
aged father of the Ulluri family advised them to
take time to consider. He asked them to remember

174 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

that they had not been without religious zeal here-
tofore. Had not the whole family on one occasion
journeyed to the grave of Nasriah at Tiprantakamu,
with goodly offerings of rice and a goat? Did
they not lay garlands on the grave, singing appro-
priate hymns ? Had they not given to the Guru
Poliah a cow, in return for his ministrations?
And, above all, had not he, their father, at mid-
night some years ago, been allowed to see God ?

Moreover, this Madiga patriarch had a daugh-
ter, Ukkamah, whom he held dear, with a peculiar
love and respect. When about ten years old
she became a widow. In her infancy, in imitation
of the customs of the Aryan Hindu, her parents
had married her to a young lad of a family well
known to them. The second ceremony, when
she would be led as a bride to his house, had not
been performed. And now, like the Brahmin
widow, this little Madiga maid was never to
marry, not because it would have been contrary
to Madiga usage, but because it was thought
well to follow the example of the twice-born
Brahmins.

As the years passed, Ukkamah took comfort

LONGING TO SEE GOD 175

in the religious rites taught by the disciples of
Nasriah. Her parents encouraged her in singing
the hymns of that sect, accompanying herself on
the cithara. It came about gradually, after she
was forty years of age, that she was asked to
come to villages here and there and sing and
play. She was treated with much respect. People
said, " She is not like other women. She serves
God." After a time a cousin also lost her hus-
band, and the two women henceforth went about
together. They were not allowed to go away
from any village where they had sung empty-
handed. Money accumulated in their hands ;
they laid some of it as an offering on the shrine
of Nasriah. Ukkamah gave a part of hers to-
ward the support of her parents.

Ukkamah was now at a distant village, and
her father insisted that, before any decisive step
was taken, her opinion must be asked, for had
she not more piety than any one else in the
family? Condiah, the eldest son, was restless
during the days that followed. Finally, he said :
" Ukkamah is not coming. I shall go to her."
Two days he journeyed. There was welcome in

T76 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

his sister's eyes when she saw him. " Is it well
with all at home?" was her first question. She
told the village people that her brother had come,
and all gathered with a friendly curiosity, and
the wife of the Madiga headman brought butter-
milk in a brass vessel, that he might drink and
be refreshed.

When brother and sister sat down to talk,
Condiah soon found that he had no opposition
to face. Ukkamah said : " I have heard of this
religion. We said in the Nasriah sect that there
is one God. This was right ; but we did wrong,
because we continued to worship idols. It is
well that you have the desire to go to Ongole.
Do not wait for me. Go at once. Soon I shall
return' home, and then I, too, shall make known
my faith in Jesus Christ." These were Ukkamah's
words ; and as Condiah repeated them after his
arrival at home, all were satisfied that the time
had come when they should break away from
the old, and enter upon the new life.

The Ulluri family was sufficiently prominent
to make the change in their various relations a
matter of comment. The Sudras were much

LONGING TO SEE GOD 177

displeased with them. Never before had the
Ulluri family refused to come to work, as they
now did, when called on the Sunday. The
number of Christians was rapidly increasing, and
all showed this same spirit of insubordination,
which the Sudras had never before known among
their serfs. " Let us teach them," they said.

It was harvest time, and since some of the
Christians had helped to plough and till the
soil, it was their right, according to ancient cus-
tom, to receive their share of the grain. To
enforce a lesson, the Sudras thrashed their grain
on Sundays, and the Christians, who showed their
moral courage in staying away, thus incurred
considerable loss.

On a Sunday the Sudras were all out on the
fields at work ; only a few had remained behind
in the village. The old mother of the Munsiff
made a fire to boil a little milk. While away
for a few minutes, the fire touched a basket of
bran standing near, which soon burned lustily,
and, before the people could be called from the
fields, ten of the houses were destroyed by fire.
All the grain that had been gathered on those

W.S.S. 12

178 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

Sundays, to spite the Christians, was burned.
The old mother ran away to hide herself for
half a day, and when she again appeared, half
distracted, she wailed, " God sent it as a punish-
ment ! " She had been specially harsh in her
attitude toward the Christians, and that she
should have been the cause of so much loss
seemed to all a judgment direct from God. The
strife was now ended. Henceforth the Sudras
attended to small jobs on Sunday, and did their
important work when the Christians could join
them.

The vexation of the Sudras was again roused
when they prepared a feast to one of the village
matris, and sent for the Madigas to beat the
drums and dance before the idol. It was one
of the duties which they owed to the community
on the ancient system of mutual service. But
now they sent word that they could not come.

A message came back to them : " Then you
stay by yourselves, and we stay by ourselves.
You need not serve us any more. We do not
want you."

The Sudras thought it would be an easy matter

LONGING TO SEE GOD 179

to supply the places, but found themselves mis-
taken. Those who were not already Christians
had a sense of clannish honour, and refused to
come into work that had been taken from others
of their tribe. Only a few worthless fellows came.
The Sudras, therefore, thought best to make peace.

The Ulluri family was related to a number of
other family groups, and it soon became known
among them all that the^ Guru, Poliah, had been
advised to become a Christian, as the only way
in which he could obtain salvation. But some
of the more distant branches of the family circle
did not grasp the significance of the change.
They thought a change of Gurus had taken place
but that the ancient cults of the Madigas could
not thereby be touched.

It happened one day that a messenger from
a branch of the family, living ten miles away,
brought an invitation to attend a feast to Peran-
talu. Several of the men of the family said : " We
are Christians. What have we to do with
Perantalu ? "

Others said, " Let us go and tell them what we
think of their markings on the wall."

i8o FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

They went, and the unsuspecting hosts were
overcome by the indignant demand that the
markings be scratched from the wall, or their
euests would not touch a morsel of the rice and
curry which had been prepared.

One of them meekly remarked : " Heretofore
it made no difference which sect any one joined,
he could yet worship Perantalu. Is it then
different with Christianity ? "

In the midst of argument and dispute some
one took his sandals and offered to scrape the
yellow saffron and red dots of Perantalu off the
wall. It was done. Harmony was restored.
The feast was enjoyed without being first offered
to the departed female ancestress of the family,
for whom the markings had been made.

" What good thing can she do for us ? What
evil will she ward off? It is God's blessing that
we want," said one of the guests.

Another branch of the family were preparing
for the annual feast to Nagarpamah. They wor-
shipped Naga, the hooded serpent, personified as
a woman, a combination of Sakti worship and
the ancient serpent-worship. The huge ant-hills

LONGING TO SEE GOD i8i

out in the fields, in which the white ants have
their nests, are often the abodes of snakes, that
coil in and out of the passages dug by the ants,
and feed on the larvae. Once a year a feast is
made to Nagarpamah, when her supposed abode
is painted with saffron and red dots. Water is
poured over the ant-hill to induce Nagarpamah
to grant plentiful harvest ; cooked rice is placed
in front of it, and milk is poured into the passages.
Puja is then made, and, whether there is any
trace of a snake in the ant-hill or not, the
worshippers go away satisfied to enjoy their
own feast, for they believe that Nagarpamah is
aware of the worship that has been offered
her.

After hearing of the summary proceedings with
the markings of Perantalu, it was thought best
to put off the annual feast to Nagarpamah. In
fact, it was never held, for Christianity spread so
rapidly it carried all before it.

There were Ellama worshippers in the family
who were ashamed to have anything to do with
the Ellama-house, and the pot with the emblem-
atical shells hung from the roof within. The

i82 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

Matangi of that region looked on with a dis-
pleasure which she did not try to conceal.

Schools were started. The brightest lads were
sent to Ongole to study, and the men and
women who sought for salvation in the Nasriah
sect were singled out one after another to do
valiant service at important centres of the move-
ment of the Madigas toward Christianity.

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE

The young man, Kommu Puniah, wanted to
make sure, before he started on his journey north,
to trade in hides, that when he returned he
might wed the maiden, Subbamah. She was a
comely girl, about thirteen years old, and, as she
was a distant relative, he had often seen her,
but of late years he had not dared to speak to
her, for such was not the custom.

He had spoken to her family concerning her,
and they had agreed to the marriage. But he
loved Subbamah, and one day, as he stood talk-
ing with her grandmother, he knew that Sub-
bamah was behind the door, listening to every
word. He said : " I shall be gone one year,
and when I return I shall have rupees in my
hands. Do not let Subbamah marry any one
while I am gone." The old grandmother replied,

" When you return, we shall give her to you as

183

i84 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

a wife." Something moved behind the door,
and Puniah knew that Subbamah had put her
hand up to her face, and that she was pleased.

Not one year, but five years, Puniah stayed in
that northern district, and never did he hear of a
Madiga returning home with his cart-loads of
hides but he sent word to Subbamah's grand-
mother that he was doing well, and would soon
come home to wed Subbamah.

Puniah belonged to the Nasriah sect, and so
did his kinsman, Seshiah, who was with him in
the north. A Madiga, Darla Yelliah, a trader
in hides, who made frequent journeys back and
forth, came to them once in six months to buy
of them the hides which they had traded from
the Sudras. This man, Yelliah, was a Christian
and the three men began to discuss their religious
beliefs, after they had settled their trade in hides.
Yelliah sang a Christian hymn, and the other two
men sang a Nasriah hymn, but asked to be taught
the Christian hymn.

Yelliah said they ought to let all the forms
and customs of the Nasriah sect go, and pray
to the true God. They wanted to know how

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 185

this was done. It happened that they were on
the bank of a river, on the way to some distant
village. Yelliah took a cloth which hung over
his shoulder, and spread it on the ground. He
told his companions to kneel with him, and to
listen, for he was going to talk with his God,
who was his Father. Before he left them that
day, Yelliah taught them the ten commandments.
They said after he was gone, "We can continue
to sing Nasriah hymns, but it would be well to
pray as Yelliah did."

Whenever Yelliah passed that way he told
them more, and after a time they said, " We will
stop drinking sarai and eating carrion." But the
Malas, with whom they had made a contract for
hides, were displeased. They said : " You are not
living like Madigas. You do not eat carrion.
You are Christians." They refused to fulfil their
part of the contract, and as Puniah had nothing
in his hands by way of proof, he lost all he had
advanced. After that he bought hides outright,
though it was not as lucrative as by contract.

Puniah returned home, married and settled, and
was prosperous. He found a man who could read

i86 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

a little, and asked him to teach him. Through
him he heard that a Dora had come to Ongole,
and decided to go and see. He took a load of
goat-skins and journeyed to Ongole to sell them.
As he entered the mission compound he met
Pentiah, and sat down to have a talk with him
under the trees. He was interested in the pretty
booklets which Pentiah was selling. Books always
had an attraction for Puniah. Years after, when
he was an ordained preacher, he had accumulated
a library of Telugu tracts and books, as many as
were to be had. The fewness of the books gave
evidence of the paucity of Christian Telugu litera-
ture. But Puniah was proud of his library, till
one day, before any one observed it, the white
ants came and ate it all. Later he bought of a
mission family, for a few rupees, a " meat-safe,"
made of teak-wood, which the white ants cannot
eat, and, as he explained to me, " iron windows all
around," by which I understood wire-netting. In
this piece of furniture, made to keep food from
flies and insects and beetles, Puniah felt that his
new library would be safe. With his love for
books even then Puniah readily agreed to take

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 187

a number of tracts away with him, to sell them
for Pentiah in the villages where he went to trade
in hides. Before he left, the two men went to the
bungalow, and Pentiah introduced Puniah to the
Dora as a man who is living like a Christian and
is willing to sell tracts. The Dora invited him
to come to Ongole to school, and he said he would
come.

This invitation was repeated several times as
Puniah came and went on trade. He agreed
every time that he would come, but the trading
instincts were strong within him ; he hesitated
because he had plans for accumulating rupees.
One day he came with a bandy-load of goat-skins
to Ongole, and, as usual, went to see the Dora.
He said, " How are you, Puniah ? "
With the affirmative nod of the head common
among the Telugus, Puniah said, " I am well."
" How much money did you get this time ? "
" I got thirty rupees ; " and he proudly rolled the
silver out of the red cloth which he had tied tightly
around his waist.

The Dora held out his hand and took them, and
said : " This is the fine for your wavering words*

i88 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

Four times you have told me you are coming
to school, and you have not done it. Salaam."
And the Dora went into the bungalow.

But Puniah did not go. He stood outside and
watched the Dora walking about inside. Twice
he came to the door and asked, " Why do you
not go ? "

" I want my money."

Finally, the Dora called him, took him by the
shoulder, gave him a kindly shake which almost
took the young man off his feet, but pleased him
exceedingly. "Here is your money. Will you
come to school ? "

"I will come."

But the Dora called his preacher, and said :
" Jonathan, this young man lied to me four
times. He now says he will come to school. If
he does not come — you are witness — you must
deliver him over to me. Write down his name."
Jonathan wrote his name, and he went home.

After this Puniah was restless. He sold his
cattle, paid his debts, and when everything was
ready, and he was planning to start for Ongole,
his wife, Subbamah, said, " I will not go." Now,

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 189

Subbamah was a good-looking young woman, and
she liked to adorn herself with beads around her
neck and bangles on her arms. When they were
married the Madiga Dasiri had, according to cus-
tom, taken the talibottu from a pile of rice and
handed it to Puniah to tie around Subbamah's
neck, in the presence of all their relatives, as the
sign of marriage. The talibottu was of the size of
a coin, very thin, but made of gold. Her other
ornaments had very little of gold or silver in their
composition, but they looked well.

It seems in the early days, when the first con-
verts among the women saw that the Dorasani
did not wear bangles or beads, they thought it was
part of the Christian religion to do without these
ornaments. Bangarapu Thatiah's wife, Satyamah,
broke her bangles, and wherever she and her
husband went in those days it was remarked that
when they preached in the Rajayogi sect they
wore silver rings, but now they had nothing.

The glass bangles which the women wear are
not merely ornaments : they show that the wearer
is not a widow. Among the Brahmins, when a
man dies his relatives take away from his widow

190 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

all the jewels she wears. Sometimes they are torn
from her cruelly. I think it must be in imitation
of this custom among the twice-born Aryans that
the Madigas take the widow to the new-made
grave of her husband and let the Madiga Dasiri
with a stick break the glass bangles on her arm,
so that the pieces fall upon the ground.

It happened during the early years of the Mis-
sion that the wife of one of the preachers went to
a village where she was well known, her arm bare
of the customary glass bangles. " Go away," said
the women to her ; " we do not want your God.
When you were here before, your husband was
living. Now look at your arm — your bangles are
gone. What has your new God done for you?"
After this, it seems, the Missionary and his wife
told the women to keep their bangles, because
they saw that a social custom was involved, with
which it was not well to interfere.

Puniah's wife, Subbamah, had evidently heard
of this, and she said she did not want to go about
without her jewels. But Puniah saw that her
mother and grandmother would not hear of the
plan of letting her go with him to Ongole. He

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 191

went alone. After six months he returned for
Subbamah. The mother and grandmother cried,
and made a great noise in the village. But people
said : " What trouble is there ? She goes with her
husband." Subbamah said, " I am going." When
they were resting under a tree, ten miles out of
Ongole, Puniah said to Subbamah — as he pointed
to a large bracelet on each arm and several toe-
rings, all made of a kind of pewter, " These will
not look well in Ongole." She said, " Then take
them away." Her bangles she kept. With con-
siderable pride Puniah took her to say salaam to
the Dora and Dorasani, and they said, " She is a
nice woman."

The years passed, and Puniah became a preacher
who showed ability to carry every additional re-
sponsibility that was laid upon him. Subbamah
had little children about her, but her mother
helped her take care of them while she taught
in the school which she and Puniah had started.
One day a visitor, Kollum Ramiah, came to them,
who was in trouble. He believed in Jesus Christ,
but most of the members of his family were
against him.

192 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

Puniah had been in this man's village, and had
been invited to his house. Wherever he went
in the village, whether he talked to a group of
women pounding rice or spoke to the children
at play, Ramiah had followed him. In the even-
ing he had killed a fowl and given it to his wife,
saying, " Make a good curry for our guest." And
he heard, where he sat, how the old mother
grumbled and said, " Is this man our relative
that you should prepare such good food for him ? "
That night Ramiah trimmed the wick of the little
oil-lamp, poured in a plentiful supply of cocoa-nut
oil, and placed it on a post in a sheltered corner,
where the wind could not play with the flame.
The rest went to sleep, but Puniah and Ramiah
sat together till dawn, and talked about this new
religion. And Ramiah said: "I believe in Jesus
Christ. All I have done thus far to get salva-
tion was useless."

Ramiah's wife was on his side; otherwise he
stood alone in his family. But she too was full
of trouble. Her husband's mother told her in
spiteful words that she was to blame for all the
evil which was coming upon them. Why did she

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 193

not tell her husband that she would leave him
if he joined those Christians ? But her husband
saw the pressure brought to bear upon her. He
said to her, in the presence of the whole family :
" If you will come with me, I am glad — come. If
you do not want to come, then you must stay, but
I shall not stay with you. On your account I am
not willing to lose the salvation of my soul."
With a sense of great relief she said : " Where you
go, I shall go too. Why should I stay where you
are not ? " No one could, after this, put the blame
upon her.

When Ramiah saw that his baptism would
make him an outcast in his own family, the hope
came that perhaps some of his wife's relations
would unite with him. He made a journey of
sixty miles on foot, and was kindly received by his
wife's uncle and brothers. They belonged to the
Nasriah sect, and, therefore, looked leniently on the
step which Ramiah was about to take. They said,
" Come with us to the annual feast at Tipran-
takamu ; another branch of the family living far-
ther west will meet us there, and together we will
hear what you have to tell us."

w.s.s. 13

194 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

The journey was undertaken ; and under a large
banyan tree in Tiprantakamu the family sat down
together for a council. Ramiah announced boldly,
" There is no other way to salvation but through
Christ. Why should we continue to follow false
roads ? "

The uncle of his wife, by reason of his age and
dignity, was the head of the whole family. He re-
plied, "Nasriahtold us to follow him like children,
and he would lead us on the way to salvation."

Ramiah said : " You do not follow Nasriah either.
He said, ' Do not worship idols.' But you still
bow to Poleramah and Mahalakshmi."

His wife's eldest brother looked at the matter
from a different point of view. He said : " That
Christian religion may be the true religion, but
we cannot bear it. Nasriah said, 'Do not drink
sarai, do not steal, do not commit other sins ' ; but
no one asks us whether we are living by Nasriah's
rule. If we become Christians we 'shall have to
walk carefully. It is too hard. How can a
man live by the Christian rule?"

There was a murmur of approval from the
family circle. It was certainly more convenient

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 195

to remain in the Nasriah sect. The Christian
standard of living seemed too severe.

Ramiah appealed to them to give up their idol
worship and come with him. But the discussion
was losing its interest for them. There was talk-
ing back and forth to no purpose.

Finally, the aunt of Ramiah's wife spoke. She
was a shrewd woman, and was accustomed to
being heard whenever she had a remark to make,
which occurred frequently. She said : " We have
good food to eat now, because we bow to Poler-
amah and Ankalamah. If we stop bowing before
them we may have nothing to eat but a little
porridge with pepper sauce poured over it."

This was a practical solution of the question
which pleased every one. Several rose up and
stretched themselves as a sign that they considered
the discussion ended. Ramiah said, " Then, for
the sake of your food, you are willing to lose your
souls." And he too rose to go, for he knew that
he had failed.

On his way home Ramiah visited Puniah and
talked the matter over with him. Puniah told
him of men who, like him, were outcasts for a

196 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

time, but whose families finally came with them.
Ramiah was full of hope when he found, on his
arrival at home, that his father and two younger
brothers listened to him gladly. But his father
was a meek and quiet man, and feared his wife,
and his brothers hesitated and looked to him to
take the first step. Ramiah felt the time had come
to act. He went to Ongole and was baptized.

As he approached his village on his return from
Ongole, he found his wife sitting by the wayside,
her little boy asleep in her arms. She thought
he might be returning about this time, and sat
there waiting for him. " What shall we do ? " she
said ; " your mother is full of anger, and says she
will not let you come into the house."

" Never mind," was the calm reply ; " we shall
find a place somewhere." They slowly walked to
the house, and found the mother in front of it,
pounding rice for the evening meal. When she
saw her eldest son, and noticed, as he took oft
his turban, that the juttu was gone, she said, in a
voice choked with fierce emotion, —

" I brought you forth and cared for you, in the
hope that in my old age I should be cared for by

HIS MOTHER'S CURSE 197

you. You have gone on a road on which we shall
not follow you. Henceforth I shall not eat food
that comes from your hands. Go away ! You
are to me as those who are dead ! "

Ramiah had too long been a man of weight in
his walks in life to submit to oppression now.
With a firm step he walked into the house as one
who has his home there. His younger brothers
had neglected their few acres of ground during
his absence. He started out to work early next
morning. No one dared interfere with him. But
the rules of caste were stronger than he. When
the family ate, he could not eat with them ; the
tood for him and his wife was put on one side.
The village people objected to letting him draw
water from their well, lest he pollute it, and they
all fall sick. He had to dig a little well for him-
self, where happily he soon struck water. Those
days dragged heavily and wearily.

But the mother's harsh rule could not endure.
Her younger sons were baptized, and she dared
not repeat her curse when they returned home
shorn of their juttus. The old father lay sick, and
death was approaching. His sons knew that his

198 FROM NASRIAH TO CHRIST

soul was thirsting for every word they could tell
him of the Christ ; but he dared not mention the
source of his peace and joy for fear that his wife
might speak harshly to him. He died with a
quiet faith and trust in Jesus of Nazareth.
Ramiah and one of his brothers went to Ongole
to school, the youngest stayed at home to support
his mother. Outwardly unyielding, she was yet
glad to have some one at home on whom she
could lean.

A few years had passed when it happened that
the youngest son journeyed to see his two brothers
at Ongole. While there together, word came to
them that the.ir mother, after a short illness, had
died. The three men looked at each other. Each
knew the thought of the other. But Ramiah hid
his face in his hands and wept : " She said that I
was as one dead to her, and no food would she
accept at my hands in her old age. She has died
with her sons far distant, alone, as she said she
would be."

There was pain in Ramiah's heart whenever he
thought of his mother. Tears came to his eyes
when he told of her curse.

A BATTLE-GROUND FOR TWO
RELIGIONS

Through Much Tribulation
Not Peace, but a Sword
The Persecutor and His End

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION

The wife of Yendluri Rutnam noticed that her
husband frequently stopped his work for a few
minutes, bent his head over his folded hands, and
said as to himself : " O God, I am a sinner. Give
me wisdom that I may find the way." She bowed
with him. He had told her all he had seen of the
Christians in a distant village, where he had gone
on trade, and she said, " It must be a good re-
ligion."

Bangarapu Thatiah came one day to inquire
after the spiritual welfare of his near kinsman.
For some reason Rutnam closed his heart against
him, and put him off by saying: "Perhaps the
Christian sect and the Nasriah sect are only
the same thing. I shall remain where I am."
Rutnam was proud of the fact that he had
been a disciple of the Nasriah sect for ten years.

202 A BATTLE-GROUND

He had been at Tiprantakamu several times at
the annual feast, and had faithfully learned the
hymns and verses he had been taught, and fully
believed that it must be true that there is only
one God. Yet he joined others of the village
people when they went to worship the swami
Gurapudu, who was supposed to have his home in
a margosa tree at one end of the village.

The old men of the village said that there once
lived a man, Gurapudu, who died suddenly in a
very mysterious way. As usual, the relatives took
an earthen pot full of cooked rice to the grave,
and laid it in two heaps. Each in turn took a
handful of the rice from one heap and put it on
the other, to go through the form of giving. Then
they sat down at a distance to watch. Had the
crows come and eaten they would have known
that Gurapudu thought kindly of them. The
Madigas believe that as the crows fly away the
soul of the dead is liberated from the body, and
on the fluttering wings of the crows hastens to
some good place.

But at the grave of Gurapudu the crows
did not come to eat, and thus his relatives

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 203

knew that his soul was hovering near the earth,
and that he would do them harm. Several had
seen peculiar forms hover about a margosa tree
in the night, and it was thought best to place a
stone under it, paint it with saffron, make large
red dots on it, and then worship it. No matter
what form Gurapudu might assume, if thus
honoured and appeased, he could not go forth
to injure the village. The fear of Gurapudu had
passed from fathers to sons, for whenever calamity
of any kind befell the village, it was regarded as
the work of the fiend in the margosa tree.

Thatiah had told Rutnam frankly what he
thought of the swami Gurapudu. He met with
quiet resistance on this point as on every other,
but Thatiah would not be baffled. When a
preacher came from Ongole, he told him to go to
Rutnam's village, and not to pass his kinsman by.
He was a man of tact and education, and had
known service in one of the older mission stations
before he became the right-hand man of the On-
gole Missionary in the early days of the movement
among the Madigas. The whole village gathered
to hear him. Before he had finished, Rutnam

204 A BATTLE-GROUND

knew wherein the difference between the Nas-
riah sect and Christianity lay. Moreover, the
strange preacher had made sarcastic remarks
about the swami Gurapudu, and, while all were
laughing, had asked permission to go to the
margosa tree near by, take the stone, and hurl
it away into a ditch, with all its red and yellow
markings. The swami had not taken notice, for
nothing happened to the preacher.

Later in the day he had a private talk with
Rutnam, and asked him some very searching
questions : " Are you a sinner, or one who has
accumulated merit? Was your worship of swa-
mis good or bad ? You have bowed to idols,
have been stealing grain when your Sudra master
looked the other way, have worked on Sunday,
have eaten carrion ; and now what do you think of
your work ? " Rutnam agreed that it was all bad,
and that he must turn away from it. The preacher
was satisfied that there was conviction here.

Soon after this Rutnam was ordered by the
village Karnam to carry a letter to a distant
village. He had to drop all other work and go
on this errand, nor could he expect to be paid for

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 205

it. Some generations back the family had re-
ceived a grant of four acres of land from the
Rajah of Venkatagiri, and in turn for this they
had to stand ready to do the bidding of the
Karnam. It was Yetti-service, a service exacted
under provisions that closely resemble the serf-
dom of the middle ages. Rutnam tied the letter
into his headcloth and went his way. Arrived
at Petloor, he approached the Government Office,
where the Brahmin clerks and officials sat over
their task. He dare not go near, for great would
be their wrath if even the air they breathed were
polluted by the presence of a poor Madiga. But
he stood afar, holding high the letter he had
brought, and soon a Sudra servant came to take
it from him. They signified to him that he might
go, and, after resting in the shade of a tree, he
took a roundabout way home.

His object was to see his distant kinsman,
Pullikuri Lukshmiah, who, he had heard, had
lately been baptized, and had much to say about
the worthlessness of Rajayogi Gurus. Lukshmiah
received him with every mark of friendship.
Sticks were soon burning under a pot of water,

206 A BATTLE-GROUND

that he might bathe after his journey. Odours
of spicy curry came from the place where the
women were cooking the evening meal ; and, as
they sat under the tamarind tree, in the cool of
the evening, the two men talked together about
many things. Lukshmiah saw that some one
must speak an authoritative word. He asked,
" Have you believed in Jesus Christ ? " With a
firm voice Rutnam replied, " I have." " Have you
been baptized ? " " No." " Then go to Ongole
this very month and be baptized, lest if you die
soon you should go to hell."

Their belief in spirits and demons, in fiends and
matris, gives to the more thoughtful minds among
the Madigas an intense desire to make sure that
they are on the way to a blessed existence beyond
the grave. The Christian conception of a heaven
and a hell was readily absorbed by them. The
hope of the one and the fear of the other are a
powerful influence in their moral conduct and
religious fervour. And thus the injunctions of
Lukshmiah brought to an end the wavering of
Rutnam, and shaped the destiny of one of the
choice workers of the Ongole mission.

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 207

There was an element of refinement in the
appearance of Rutnam. His features were regular
and of a noble outline. Every passing emotion
found expression in his eyes ; hence the look of
anxiety that became habitual in his later years,
stamped there by the many hardships of his life.
When met by kindness his face could light up
with a rare smile. He was a man who in return
for kindness could give devotion.

During the first few years of his ministry he
often took his wife with him, to help him as he
preached in the villages here and there. This
became impracticable. As the converts multi-
plied the vexation of the Sudras grew. Trouble
was heaped upon the preacher and his wife, till
Rutnam said, "It is not safe for a woman to
face these insults." Henceforth he went alone.

A social revolution on a small scale was in
progress during those early years. The Madiga
population was fast being Christianized, and in
consequence there was a breaking away from
economic and social relations that had held the
Madigas during many centuries. There was
novelty in the desire of the Christians to have

2o8 A BATTLE-GROUND

one day in seven for purposes of rest and worship.
To many a Madiga it had been an unknown
accomplishment to remember the days of the
week. It raised him decidedly in the scale of
human beings when he became sufficiently en-
lightened to know the days as they passed. He
found opportunity to cultivate moral fibre when
he began to insist that he must have one day in
seven reserved for the worship of his God.

To the Sudra landholder it was a cause of
constant irritation to be obliged to reckon with
this new spirit of independence on the part of the
Madiga. He was accustomed to call his serfs to
work whenever he required their service. Day
and night, seed-time and harvest, they were to
be ready to obey his call. He did not look upon
their desire for a Sabbath of rest as a legitimate
demand. It seemed to the Sudra usurpation of
authority pure and simple. The Karnam shared
in the vexation of the Sudras, for when he called
the Christian Yettis to work on Sunday, or start
on long journeys with heavy burdens on their
backs, they asked to be allowed to go the next day.

There was tension in all the region round about.

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 209

Whenever some village matri, some fiend or de-
mon, was to receive special worship, the question
arose as to the course which should be pursued
with the rebellious Madigas. It was part of the
service which they owed to the village community,
on the principle of mutual service, that they should
beat the drums when there was a festival to the
swamis. The Madigas had to furnish the leather
for the drums. Who should beat them but they ?
To refuse to perform this old-time duty "meant
loss to them. They received the carcases of
the animals which were slaughtered to please
the gods in question as remuneration for their
special service.

The trouble culminated in the village Balla-
pudy, one of the villages in Rutnam's charge.
The Madigas rebelled against ancient institutions,
and in consequence the organization of the village
community was used against them. The potter is
the village servant, who makes the earthen pots
that break so easily, and, therefore, need frequent
replacing. The washermen likewise serve the
village. They have their group of houses in the
village, and when the village tank is dry, their

W.S.S. 14

210 A BATTLE-GROUND

donkeys take the clothes where there is sufficient
water. There was interdependence of various
kinds. If by the order of the Munsiff and Kar-
nam the mutual helpfulness of the community
was withdrawn from the Madigas, their isolation
was of a peculiarly trying nature.

The Karnam of Ballapudy was not a man of
strong personality. But he knew that he had
power to harass, and decided to take the in-
itiative, and show all the region round about how
to deal with these recreant Madigas. Forthwith
the village washermen were told not to wash for
the Christians ; the potter was told not to sell pots
to them ; their cattle were driven from the common
grazing-ground ; the Sudras combined in a refusal
to give them the usual work of sewing sandals and
harness ; at harvest-time they were not allowed to
help, and thus lost the supply of grain which the
Sudras had always granted them. They were
boycotted and ostracized on every hand. The
Karnam called the heathen Madigas from else-
where to do the work of the village, and the
Christians had no alternative but to go to distant
villages to find a little work, and earn a scant pit-

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 211

tance. This went on for a season. Rutnam
suffered with the distress of his people.

A day of reckoning came when the Ongole
Missionary pitched his camp in a grove near the
village Ballapudy. He rode through the bazaar
of the village, Rutnam and others of the Chris-
tians with him, made happy and full of courage by
his presence. On one side of the road — his arms
deferentially folded over his chest — stood the
Karnam. Rutnam pointed him out to the Dora :
" That is the man " ; and the Karnam made many
and deep salaams. The Dora, however, seemed
not to notice him. Then the Karnam, already
full of fear, grew very anxious, and wondered what
would happen to him ; for he had heard that the
Ongole Missionary was strong in protecting these
Madigas.

Walking at a little distance from the horse, the
Karnam now began to excuse himself. A large
crowd had gathered of all castes. There were
Mohammedans too. Ever since the tent had ar-
rived, and the lascars, who came with it, had told
the people the hour when they expected their
Dora the ^bazaar of the village Ballapudy had

212 A BATTLE-GROUND

been filling with people who had come in from
villages near by. Many were interested in the
issue. If the Dora failed to influence the Karnam,
it would go hard with the Madigas in all that
region; for other Karnams stood ready to resort
to stringent measures.

But here was the Dora not even looking in the
direction of the anxious Karnam ; the little group
of persecuted men and women gathered closely
around him. He did not even seem to hear the
Karnam's excuses, till, finally, insisting on being
heard, the Karnam said : " I did not do that work.
There are no witnesses."

Then the Dora's horse stood still, and it turned
in the direction of the trembling Karnam. It was
a fine white animal ; the preachers in the old days
were proud of it. Once in the early days, when
the mission was in debt, the Dora offered to sell
his horse, that he might give the money to his
preachers, but they pleaded for the horse. " Never
mind about us," they said, " but keep the horse.
What should we say to all who stand ready to per-
secute us if they asked us whether our Dora no
longer rides a horse?"

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 213

As Rutnam told me the story of the encounter
between the Dora and the Karnam, he remem-
bered specially the Dora's horse. " How would it
have looked if our Dora had walked through all
that crowd on his feet ? " And one word of the
Missionary was treasured in Rutnam's heart with
peculiar gratitude. The Dora said to the Karnam :
" You say there are no witnesses. The Christians
have told me what you did. The preacher, who is
like my ' Tamurdu,' has told me. Would my
younger brother lie to me ? You are the liar,
not my preacher." Rutnam's face trembled with
emotion when he repeated to me, several times
over, that before all that crowd of men who were
ready to injure and destroy him and his little
flock the Dora called him his " Tamurdu."

Like a school-boy the Karnam, in deferential
attitude, promised to cease from evil-doing. Not
once, but twice he had to promise that he would
not persecute the Christians any more, for the
Dora was afraid " of his lying words." He and all
who stood there heard to their surprise that these
Madigas were God's children, and in God's special
care. " Their God," the Missionary said, " is not

214 A BATTLE-GROUND

like your swamis, who hear not and see not.
When these poor men pray, God is not far off.
Beware how you touch them."

Deeply humiliated, the Karnam went to his
house. All had seen that he was a coward, who
could oppress those in his power, but trembled in
the presence of one who could call him to account
for his actions. Many a man in that region,
whose heart was full of anger against the Chris-
tians, decided to let others persecute them if they
would, but that he would hold aloof.

Some years had passed, when the priests of the
goddess Ankalamah decided that the annual feast
at her temple in the village Muktimulla should be
held with unusual pomp. There had been cattle-
disease of late, and some of the wells were running
dry. They said the goddess was probably angry
because she had not of recent years been honoured
sufficiently, and they hinted, too, that the Madigas
and their refusal to beat the drums had fanned the
displeasure of the goddess. Now Ankalamah is
one of the ten great Saktis, a form of Parvati,
consort of Siva. The Karnam of the village Muk-
timulla was a Brahmin, seventy years of age, and

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 215

a worshipper of Siva. He decided that Anka-
lamah should have the drums beaten by the
Madigas at her annual feast, just as she had seen
it done during many a century. Moreover, she
should have the pleasure of seeing the rebellious
Madigas humiliated as they deserved.

When the feast was in course of preparation,
and crowds of worshippers had gathered, the
Karnam sent for the Christians to come and beat
the drums. They returned a message that their
religion forbade them to have anything to do with
idol-worship. Five village constables were then
sent to fetch five of the leading Christians. They
were brought by force. Water was poured over
their heads until it was thought the uncleanness
of their Christian religion had been washed away.
Their heads were shaved, and only a lock on top
of their heads — the juttu — was left, that the swami
might dwell therein. And, finally, their foreheads
were marked like those of the other worshippers.
The drums were forced into their hands, and for
three days they had to endure the shame of their
position, while large crowds came to worship the
goddess.

216 A BATTLE-GROUND

Rutnam hastened to the spot. These men were
members of his flock. But what could he do ?
What could be done even if they should unite in
resistance ? They were overpowered by numbers.
The five men had gathered up the hair as it fell
under the razor, and had tied it into their cloth.
As soon as release came, they hastened to Ongole
and told their tale to the Missionary, showing the
hair in their cloth, taking off their turbans to show
the bald heads that represented to them mutilation.

A case was filed in the criminal court. The
English magistrate of Ongole tried the case in
person. He asked the five Christians whether
they considered themselves to have been insulted.
They said, " It was as if our throats had been
cut ; our shame was so great." Rutnam and two
Christian teachers were the witnesses on the one
side, a crowd of false witnesses stood on the other
side. The legal proceedings took some time, and
then judgment was passed. Since the Karnam
was an old man, he was spared the three years
of imprisonment which he deserved. He had
to pay a fine of thirty rupees, and was imprisoned
for three months. As he was a Brahmin, imprison-

THROUGH MUCH TRIBULATION 217

ment meant pollution of the very worst kind. He
died four days after his release. His son took his
place. When I asked Rutnam whether the son
was better than the father, he replied, " Can a
tiger have young jackals as children ? "

Thus the government, which has made itself, in
a measure, the vehicle of Christian principles, took
no notice of Ankalamah's desire to see the drums
forced into the hands of defenceless Madigas.
The violation of the law of religious toleration
carries with it a maximum punishment of five
years' imprisonment. That an aged Brahmin, in
respected position, should have been deeply humili-
ated because he insulted the religious belief of
five men, who were of the outcasts, and in former
days considered too low to come within the same
jurisdiction that applied to the members of other
castes, was, indeed, an indication that a new day
had dawned for the remnant of an aboriginal
tribe that had known nothing but abject servitude
for many centuries.

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD

There were four brothers in the Nambadi
family. Krishniah was the eldest ; upon him fell
the chief care of the family when his father died.
Anandiah, the second, was the pride of the family.
He knew more than was ordinarily expected of
the Mala priest, and his learning gave distinction
to the priestly functions of the brothers. Venka-
tiah, next to Anandiah in age, was quiet and
retiring, and ever ready to do the bidding of
Anandiah. The youngest was Chinna Krishniah.
In honour of the god Krishna, one of the incarna-
tions of Vishnu worshipped by the family, it was
thought well to have two sons by the name of
Krishniah. As is customary in such cases, the
older brother v/as called " big Krishniah," the

younger " little Krishniah."

218

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 219

Anandiah was the most active, and at the same
time most restless member of the family. He was
ever on the alert for something new to learn and
to investigate. He had early learned to read, and
was always ready for new books. He listened to
the singers who relate the events of the past in
a peculiar mixture of the legendary and historic.
If he met any one whose religious views differed
from his own he was ready to argue with him.
With his enquiring spirit to urge him on, it is not
surprising that Anandiah had a religious history,
even before he became a Christian.

The Nambadi family were Malas. They were
thrifty, and were counted a prominent family in the
Mala community. Their ancestors, so far as they
knew, had always been priests. The Vishnuite
reformer, Ramanuja, who lived in the twelfth
century, is said to have founded seven hundred
and fifty priesthoods in Southern India, among all
castes and classes. It is not impossible that this
Mala family derived their hereditary priesthood
directly or indirectly from Ramanuja.

Anandiah, not satisfied with the routine of a
priest of the Ramanuja sect, joined in addition

220 A BATTLE-GROUND

the Chermanishta sect. The brothers were little
pleased with this new phase in Anandiah's career,
but he went his way and kept his own counsel.
Silence and mystery are the characteristics of this
sect. It was a relief to all concerned when Anan-
diah, probably by sheer force of reaction, turned to
the Rajayogi sect, and became a follower of the
Yogi Pothuluri Veerabramham.

That he could pass from one sect to another
without exciting comment among those whom he
and his brothers served as priests gives evidence
of the elasticity and extreme toleration of Hindu-
ism, so long as the institution of caste, which is
the basis of social organization, is left untouched.
After all, to the thoughtful Hindu, Vishnu and
Siva and the many lesser gods of the Hindu
Pantheon are but manifestations of the one great
deity, the Parameswara. This toleration does
not extend to the religion of Christ; the up-
heaval which ensues where it enters is dreaded.
It is inimical to caste, and thus revolutionizes
social relations. Its pure theism, with the divine
incarnation of the God-man, Jesus Christ, raises the
mind above the need of an image, and thus pro-

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 221

duces a radical change, which places a gulf be-
tween the Christian and the members of various
sects of Hinduism.

As Anandiah went about among the people
in his office as priest, he was often asked about
the attractively bound booklets which the faithful
Pentiah from Ongole was selling everywhere.
Though always ready to investigate a new belief,
Anandiah in this case had strong misgivings. He
took the tracts, looked them over carefully, until
he had become fully aware of the contents, and
then told the owners that these were bad books,
and whether it would not be best to tear them
into pieces. Thus he publicly tore up many a
tract which Pentiah had sold in that region.

One day Anandiah met Pentiah in the way, and
in a somewhat hostile spirit asked him concern-
ing himself and his religion. Now Pentiah was
not the man to face Anandiah in argument. But
he had faith, and he had conviction ; he told
Anandiah, with all the force of his simple, devout
nature, that idolatry was evil, and that there was
no salvation in Hindu sects. He spoke of Jesus
Christ as a living reality. His belief in Him as

222 A BATTLE-GROUND

an indwelling presence was the secret of the power
which this simple-hearted man wielded over men.

Pentiah was of Mala extraction, and the Mala
priest, Anandiah, could, therefore, talk with him
about the social aspects of the Christian mission
that had lately been established in Ongole. He
had heard that a number of Madigas had already
joined it ; what became of social relations in a
mixture of castes ? Outcasts equally, the Malas
and Madigas hold aloof from each other. They
have separate wells ; they do not eat together,
nor do they inter-marry.

It was not necessary to convince Anandiah that
caste was a system which could not be upheld as
containing divine truth. He had seen it attacked
in the midnight orgies of the Chermanishta sect,
and he knew that the Yogi Pothuluri Veerabram-
ham had prophesied a day when caste distinction
would cease. He wanted to know what practical
solution Christianity had to offer. Pentiah told
him that there was no caste in the mission com-
pound at Ongole, that all drank from the same
well, nor did they hesitate to eat together. If
any one was found to cling to the old distinction

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 223

between Mala and Madiga, he was rebuked. It
was a new life, of which Pentiah thus gave him
a glimpse. Anandiah did not commit himself,
for his thoughts were seething within him, and
Pentiah went his way.

It happened soon after this conversation that
the four brothers went to a village at some dis-
tance to perform the Bhagvatum. Anandiah
entered upon the undertaking in a half-hearted
way. Six rupees was the price agreed upon for
the night's work, and he was determined to go
through with his part. They began after dark in
the evening, and continued till dawn. A fine,
moonlight night had been chosen. Torches were
held where the actors were in full view. The
people from neighbouring villages had come, and
sat on the ground, in the large open space in front
of the village, ready to enjoy themselves during
their days of leisure, for the harvest was over and
seed-sowing time had not yet come.

The brothers had been joined by relatives who
lived some twenty miles away. The performance
required ten actors. Anandiah played the chief
part ; he recited the accompanying passages of

224 A BATTLE-GROUND

the drama as they passed from one act to the
next. The Telugu of the text was much inter-
mingled with difficult Sanscrit expressions, and he
often stopped to explain the meaning. The main
episodes in the life of Krishna were the subject
of the play. The mother and wives of Krishna
played an important part, and the brothers, there-
fore, wore the apparel of women and decked
themselves with the jewellery of women. It was,
in the Hindu sense, a religious play, yet the
buffoon was not wanting, and his part of the
performance brought the play to a low level.

At last the cocks in the village began to crow,
and the birds in the trees stirred with busy
chatter ; the darkness of night shaded into the
grey tints of dawn ; the little oil-lamps that had
been placed here and there were extinguished, and
both actors and spectators lay down for a few
hours of sleep. Anandiah went away to one side,
sat down under a tree, and busied himself reading
the Gnanabodha^ a book which Pentiah had left
in his hands. Several gathered around him, and
he read to them, and explained also what he had
read.

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 225

Noon came, and the feast which concluded the
performance of the Bhagvatum was ready. Pedda
Krishniah was to perform puja before the idols
of Krishna, and then all were to eat. The sleepers
rose, and the brothers went to call Anandiah.
He said, " I am not coming." " Why will you
not come ? " His reply sent consternation to the
hearts of the brothers : " I have even now believed
in Jesus Christ, and will no longer have anything
to do with idols, nor will I eat anything where
idols have been near the food."

Anandiah had suffered deeply in mind all that
night, and the turning-point had now come. The
brothers grew angry. He had told them of his
intention before the people, and they asked him
right there, " Are you going into that Madiga
sect?" "Yes." "Are you going to eat with
them ? " "I shall eat." " Then we shall not let
you into the house." " I shall not come if you
don't want me."

Anger was out of place in the face of such
determination. The brothers hid their dismay as
best they could, and directed their attention to
the present moment. Anandiah had done the

W.S.S. 15

226 A BATTLE-GROUND

hardest part of the work, and it was now their
duty to see that he had to eat. They said,
" Before we worship the idols, we will send you
of the food ; eat it wherever you like ; even though
you join that sect you shall not go hungry."
He suspected that more mantras would be said
over his food than over the other. His disgust
over night had grown beyond endurance. He
replied, " I will have nothing to do with that
food."

They wanted to know where he would eat. He
pointed to the house of Malas who were friends,
and said they would give him to eat. " But," the
brothers said, " that is not nice food ; we shall
send you nice meat curry." This consideration
had no power to move Anandiah. " Even though
you send nice food, I shall not touch it. I prefer
porridge to what you can give me." Baffled in
their intention, they muttered, " Very well ; eat
what you like," and went away and left him.

The brothers felt more like crying than like
eating the feast that was first offered to the idols
and then placed before them. Heavy losses were
before them if Anandiah failed them. The part

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 227

which he took in the performance of the Bhag-
vatum required more knowledge than they pos-
sessed. After they had eaten, they sat down
under a tree and waited the coming of Anandiah.
" You have lost a very nice meal," they said as he
joined them. " And you have brought punishment
upon yourselves by eating yours," was his reply.

But they were anxious to know their fate.
When Anandiah belonged to the Chermanishta
sect, the brothers knew that midnight orgies of a
very doubtful nature took place twice a year ; but
they knew not what they were, and asked no ques-
tions, for Anandiah still played the Bhagvatum.
They were willing again to bear with his belief,
but the question was : Would he play the Bhag-
vatum after he had become a Christian ? Pedda
Krishniah, therefore, asked him : " When you were
in the Ramanuja sect you played the Bhag-
vatum ; in the Chermanishta sect you played ;
you became a Rajayogi, and yet played. Now
that you have become a Christian are you going
to play ? " Anandiah replied, " I shall never
again play."

The brothers then turned to the financial aspect

228 A BATTLE-GROUND

of the question. They had been asked to per-
form in several villages. Gain, aggregating one
hundred rupees, was in sight. Would he remain
with them for one month more ? He refused to
join them even for one day.

They then tried threats. "We shall influence
your wife so that she will not hear your word."
But threats had no effect on Anandiah ; he heeded
them not.

Once more they appealed to him : " You are a
well-read man ; you write poetry ; but now are
you gone mad. How do you expect to make
your living ? " Anandiah was weary ; he said :
" Don't ask me that ; God will show me. If He
does not see fit to feed me, I'll die."

Argument, threat, and appeal had failed to pro-
duce any effect. The brothers were silent. It
was the lull that precedes the heavier outburst of
the storm. They had been proud of Anandiah,
nor could the angry excitement of the occasion
wholly hide the brotherly affection that shone
from their eyes as they asked him very quietly,
" Then you will not remain with us ? " He shook
his head.

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 229

The four brothers rose to go home. Two of
them hastened, so as to gain time to influence
Anandiah's wife before his arrival. He had
married her about six months previously, soon
after he had become a Rajayogi. She was four-
teen years of age, old enough to meet him with
every display of anger when he appeared. In the
excited fashion of Hindu women she cried, " I
don't want you any more. I shall go back to
my parents ! " The brothers tried to prevent
Anandiah's entrance into the house, but he
quietly came in as usual. They told the mother
not to give him food, and she agreed that she
would not ; but secretly she gave him all he
wanted.

Anandiah was now an outcast. The brothers
told the village people that he had gone mad.
As the days passed Pedda Krishniah's heart grew
very hard within him. He went to the Malas in
other villages and said : " Anandiah has joined that
Christian sect, has eaten with the Madigas, and
a devil is in him. If he asks you for water, do
not give it to him." He never made salaam to
Anandiah, and if he saw him coming one road

230 A BATTLE-GROUND

he took the other. The mother remained firm in
befriending Anandiah. She was first a mother
and then a Hindu. Anandiah was her son, and
she insisted upon giving him an abundant share
of well-cooked food just as before, no matter how
much she might dislike his new belief. Her
presence restrained the angry passions of her
sons.

Though he had lost his previous employment,
Anandiah would not eat the bread of idleness, and,
therefore, began to get the daily supply of grass
for the cattle that belonged to the family. This
was work which had been done by the women of
the household. In turn he demanded his food.
The brothers knew that in justice he could claim
as his own the largest share of their possessions,
and that his self-allotted task was unworthy of his
position among them. But as they went without
him here and there to perform their priestly rites,
they realized how much they had depended upon
him, and daily their vexation grew, for people
asked them about the madness that possessed
Anandiah. In time it was noticed that Venkatiah
was very friendly with Anandiah ; they often

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 231

talked together, and seemed to be of one mind.
The mother, too, was seen to lean toward Anan-
diah.

Pedda Krishniah and Chinna Krishniah now
found that they were on one side, and Anandiah,
Venkatiah, and their mother on the other ; yet
they were the ones who kept the family income
to something approaching their former thrift.
They grew very bitter, and finally they joined
together for a quarrel. Their charge was that
Anandiah and Venkatiah were not helping them
in their work as Gurus ; that the Bhagvatum
could no longer be performed by the brothers ;
that they were preaching this Christian religion
all the time, and besides were doing nothing".

o o

They wanted to know how they expected to
live. They had their grievance ; but the other
side, too, felt that they had borne to the utmost,
and declared that the two Krishniahs had gone
too far in thus beginning an open quarrel. They
signified their intention of leaving. Venkatiah's
wife was already in Morampudy. Anandiah's
wife, who continued in angry reserve, was ready
to go with them, for her father's house was there.

232 A BATTLE-GROUND

Thus they withdrew, and the two Krishniahs
had the field to themselves.

Anandiah and Venkatiah had now turned away
from the old life, and the new lay before them
had they chosen to enter upon it. They left
their wives in Morampudy and journeyed to
Ongole to see the Missionary. They talked with
him and with some of his preachers, and profited
by the experience of others. The Missionary
respected their motives when they finally told
him that they could not be baptized now — they
must first win over the members of their house-
hold, lest their hearts grow still harder. With
faith strengthened and courage fresh, they turned
their faces homeward, though they knew what
their reception would be. Rumour that they
had in fact been baptized had preceded them,
and the two Krishniahs had been told in several
places that they were no longer acceptable as
Gurus. Nothing daunted, Anandiah ,and Ven-
katiah now proceeded according to a definite
plan. They went to the villages round about
to preach, and sometimes stayed away for several
days. There was no lack of food wherever they

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 233

went; they were Christian preachers even before
their baptism.

The two Krishniahs said, " They are growing
more spiritually-minded ; let us take away their
books." Wherever they could find one they
stealthily took it away; but the fountain of
spiritual life in their brothers had a source far
beyond the books which were now so often
missing. It was not long before people began
to come to the house to ask Anandiah to read
to them. This roused the fierce jealousy of the
two Krishniahs. They invariably took the Rania-
yana^ or the Bhagavata-Purana^ and sat near by,
calling Anandiah's listeners to come away and
hear the wonderful tales of their own gods.

The home of the Nambadi family had now
become a battle-ground for two religions. The
two Krishniahs knew they were losing ground,
yet did their best to hold their own, and they
enjoyed all the advantages which conservatism
grants. They had the past on their side ; their
belief and their practices had the sanction of
centuries of usage. Anandiah and Venkatiah
were innovators, heretics, whose end in view was

234 A BATTLE-GROUND

an upheaval of social relations and the sub-
version of old-time faith. Their attitude, how-
ever, was characterized by meekness. Anandiah,
whose word had formerly been respected and
feared, was now silent when treated as one whose
presence was merely endured. The mother had
occasion to tell Chinna Krishniah that Anandiah
was his elder brother and knew more than he,
and that he should not forget this, even though
Anandiah was a Christian.

Months passed, and then it was noticed that
the joy of anticipation shone in the faces of Anan-
diah and Venkatiah. The reason for this joyous-
ness was that the Ongole Missionary was coming,
and would camp in the grove near their village.
In those days, thirty years ago, it was not neces-
sary to send a messenger here and there to ask
people to come and hear what the Missionary
had to say. The word spread, and was rapidly
passed from village to village. From the time
that the tent arrived and was unloaded from the
carts and pitched ready for its occupant, Anan-
diah and Venkatiah were scarcely seen at home.
The mother, with Pedda Krishniah's wife, went

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 235

and listened with an open heart. The two women
believed all that the Missionary said about Jesus
Christ, but they carefully avoided those who might
question them about their belief, and went home
and were silent. The mother could not bear to
allow anything to rise up as a barrier between
herself and her children ; Pedda Krishniah's wife
was afraid of her husband.

The two Krishniahs said, " Everybody is going ;
let us go too." They held themselves aloof, and
proudly stood on one side, for they realized that
it was well known how they had treated their
brother Anandiah, and thought that proud in-
difference was the attitude most becoming under
the circumstances. But Anandiah was bent on
efforts of a conciliatory nature. At the proper
time he called the Missionary's attention to them :
" Those are my brothers." The Missionary spoke
kindly to them : " Why do you not believe in Jesus
Christ?" The brothers showed by their reply
that the spirit of Christ had not yet touched their
hearts. They asked, " How are we to earn our
living?" The Missionary pointed to the birds
fluttering here and there in the trees under which

236 A BATTLE-GROUND

the tent had been pitched. He said, " Does not
God feed the birds of the air and the fish in the
sea ? "

They would not have been willing to admit
it, but the two Krishniahs went home in a gentler
mood and in a kinder frame of mind than they
had known for some time. Pedda Krishniah had
some thoughts about the Dora. He had never
seen one before near by ; but he felt certain that
if this Dora had stayed in his own country he
would not have lacked food and money. This
religion could not, therefore, be worthless if this
Dora thought enough of it to go about preaching
it. None of these thoughts did he mention to
Chinna Krishniah.

Anandiah and Venkatiah could not separate
themselves from the Missionary and those who
were with him. They followed the camp to the
next stopping-place, and not a word that the
Missionary spoke were they willing to lose. When
at last they arrived at home, it was chiefly Chinna
Krishniah who, with some of the village people,
made light of their zeal. "Why do you come
back ? " they asked. " Did not your Guru take

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 237

you straight to heaven ? " Pedda Krishniah said
nothing. The mother busied herself with the food,
but quietly told Chinna Krishniah that his jests
at the expense of Anandiah were out of place.
He asked, "Are you, too, taken with the same
madness ? " The village people, wherever Anan-
diah went, had many questions to ask about the
Dora, his horse, his servants, his tents, about his
manner of living, and his sayings and doings.
Anandiah found that the Dora's short stay among
them had given him a degree of prestige in that
region, of which he was not slow to take advan-
tage.

Pedda Krishniah, meantime, had had an experi-
ence which has always seemed to him a remark-
able one. It happened before the Missionary came
on tour. He had taken Chinna Krishniah with
him to a village at some distance, where a man
had died, and the family had requested him to
perform the usual ceremonies on the twelfth day
after the death, in order to rid the house of all
uncleanness. Pedda Krishniah bathed in the pre-
scribed way, and then, in the presence of the whole
family, he spread a cloth over a large wooden

238 A BATTLE-GROUND

seat, piled rice upon it, and on the rice he placed
the idols sacred to the worship of Vishnu. He
conducted puja before the idols. The savoury
food which had been prepared from the sheep
and several fowls that had been killed, of rice and
pappoo, and the various spices that constitute a
good curry, accompanied by a pot of the intoxi-
cating sarai, was offered to the idols with the
prescribed mantras. There was burning of in-
cense and much feasting and drinking that night
until all lay down to sleep.

At sunrise one after another rose, and Pedda
Krishniah went to the place where the idols had
been left standing on the pile of rice ready for
the concluding ceremonies. But, behold, the
largest of the idols, nine inches high, made of a
mixture of copper, silver, and gold, was gone !
It was a Venkateswarurdu idol, and had been
handed down, with the other nine idols, from
father to son. Pedda Krishniah called the heads
of the family and said, " How is this ? The
largest idol is gone ! " They looked everywhere.
It was not to be found near the house ! They
looked farther, and finally found it on a pile of

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 239

rubbish not far from the house. A dog had come
overnight, while all were sleeping soundly after
their feasting, had bitten the idol to see whether
it was eatable, and had carried it away in its
teeth.

Fear fell upon the household. " Perhaps," they
said, " the swami is angry, and will not save us
from the evil that may fall upon us." They pre-
pared tamarind water, and Pedda Krishniah
washed and cleansed the idol in it. He conducted
elaborate puja before it ; much incense was burned
and many mantras were said, and it was hoped
that the swami, Venkateswarurdu, would take no
offence at the insult that had been offered.

As the two Krishniahs walked home, the bundle
of rice which was the priestly due hung over their
shoulders, Pedda Krishniah had many thoughts,
which, however, he kept to himself He reasoned
in this wise : " If we have a swami to which we
make puja, can the dog carry it off in its teeth ?
We put up a swami to give it food ; it can't say.
It is not enough. It can't say to the dog. Don't
carry me off How can such a swami save me?
This is mere illusion."

240 A BATTLE-GROUND

Pedda Krishniah was a changed man after this
experience. The dog that carried away his Ven-
kateswarurdu idol in its teeth caused his belief
in idols to totter. But he gave no outward sign
of the fact that his intellect no longer furnished
assent to the hardness of his heart and the deter-
mination of his will. The conflict was there, and
the Missionary's visit only hastened the crisis.
He would not yield, however, until he found that
he could no longer perform the offices of a priest,
even though he would. Of this he soon became
convinced.

The two Krishniahs were asked to conduct a
household ceremony in a neighbouring village.
While on their way they talked together. Pedda
Krishniah said : " What do you really think of
this Christian religion? Is it good or bad?"
His brother said : " Why do you ask me ? Say
yourself." Pedda Krishniah then expressed his
conviction that it must be a true religion. " We
are making fun of Anandiah and Venkatiah,"
he said, "but we are doing wrong. What they
are doing is right." It was in a very peculiar
frame of mind that he proceeded to conduct the

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 241

puja. As he took up each idol to put it in its
place, he looked toward Chinna Krishniah with
a smile of contempt.

The household assembled remonstrated : " We
feel weak, for you are not performing the functions
of your priesthood with faith ! " He then tried
to keep up appearances, but his hands shook, he
trembled and could hardly proceed. He won-
dered what would happen, for he had never be-
fore thus trembled. He could not say more than
part of the usual mantras, and prepared to go
home earlier than he was wont. The village people
tried to keep him over night, but he refused.
Chinna Krishniah was now in great sorrow. He
said on their way home : " Brother, it seems you,
too, are going to that religion. Then I shall go
away to another country." But his brother com-
forted him : " Don't be afraid. We two will stay
together as the other two are doing."

Of the experiences of the night that followed,
Pedda Krishniah speaks as follows : " Two men
got into my breast, and there was a big fight till
morning. Good thoughts came, bad thoughts
came. One voice said, ' If you believe in Jesus

W.S.S. 16

242 A BATTLE-GROUND

Christ, you will be blessed.' Another voice said :
' What will you get ? Did not your forefathers
get heaven ? What do you want of this religion ? '
Thus I went on the whole night without sleep-
ing. I could not pray ; I could only say within
myself, ' O God, take away my sins and let me
get to Thy heaven.' Towards morning I looked
on the beam under the thatch of the roof to see
whether Anandiah had left any of his books
there. I took and read, and then peace came
into my mind."

Pedda Krishniah's struggle was now ended, but
where was Anandiah meantime ? " Hope deferred
maketh the heart sick." Perhaps it was partly
the strain of long waiting and patient endurance
that caused his physical strength to ebb low. He
was sick, and was staying with friends in a village
not far away, who had through him believed in
Jesus Christ, but, like him, had not yet been
baptized. Pedda Krishniah asked the mother
on the morning that brought him peace, "Where
is Anandiah ? " She told him, and there was
silent reproach in the tone of her voice which
stung him to the quick.

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 243

He went out on the road by which Anandiah
must come, and ere long saw him in the distance,
leaning on his staff. He, who had often avoided
the road by which Anandiah was to come, now
walked towards him and made a salaam to him.
Anandiah stood still. Not for many months had
Pedda Krishniah said salaam to him. He looked
at him, and, behold, the hard look was gone from
his face. He fell upon his neck and asked : " My
brother, how has God changed your heart ? How
has He given you a mind to come on this better
way ? " They embraced each other, for the
brotherly affection, so long pent up, at last as-
serted itself During eighteen months Pedda
Krishniah had had, as he to-day says, " a hard
devil within." By sheer reaction the tears now
flowed freely as he told Anandiah his whole ex-
perience— of the dog that carried away the Ven-
kateswarurdu idol, of the hands that trembled
so that he could not perform puja, of the sleep-
less night when two men were fighting within him.
Anandiah, too, had an experience to relate.
He had joined with the friends with whom he
was staying in a prayer that, within ten days,

244 A BATTLE-GROUND

Pedda Krishniah might yield and become a
follower of Jesus Christ. "Oh, my brother," he
said, " for eight days have I prayed for you ;
there were yet two days. Last night I had a
dream that you and I were praying together, and
this morning I could not stay, I came quickly to
see whether the change had been wrought."

They went to the house together. Anandiah
said, " Bring your wife, and we will read and
pray." She was sweeping when he called her,
but so glad was she to come, she dropped her
broom and joined them. The mother came, glad
and thankful as such mothers only can be whose
abounding love keeps families united. Venkatiah
came. All in the house came ; and then Pedda
Krishniah saw how they had borne with him in
long-suffering and kindness these many months.
He tried to join them as they sang one of the
Christian hymns they had learned ; he listened as
Anandiah read the seventh chapter in Matthew ;
he could not pray, but he knelt while Anandiah
prayed.

The family then had a talk together. Anan-
diah said : "In a few days Bangarapu Thatiah

NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD 245

will pass through here on his way to Oiigole to
the monthly meeting. Let us go with him and
be baptized." Pedda Krishniah was not ready.
He said : " You go. I have yet to collect a
quantity of grain which is due to me here and
there on account of the puja I conducted. PU
gather that in, and after a month I, too, will
come." Anandiah would not consent to this
plan. He argued with his brother, and finally
capped the climax by asking, " If you should
die while gathering this grain, where would you
go ? " So Pedda Krishniah agreed, and left be-
hind him all that was his as a Mala priest and
turned from his priesthood.

The family was not yet a united one. Chinna
Krishniah was sorely grieved. At night he slept
on one side, and by day he held himself aloof.
He was planning to leave his brothers and to
join other Mala priests. But the brothers talked
kindly to him ; they told him that they wanted
to go to Ongole to be baptized, and asked him to
put away all anger and consider the question
carefully. His heart was softened, and he became
the youngest disciple among them.

246 A BATTLE-GROUND

Bangarapu Thatiah arrived with his staff in
his hand. He would not sit down and rest until
he had heard all. With his quiet dignity and
simplicity he said : " God has given this. I prayed
for it."

The four brothers became Christian preachers.
Three of them left home, and were placed at the
outposts of the movement of the Madigas toward
Christianity. The mother lived to a ripe old
age in the old home with Pedda Krishniah. The
coming of Christianity had strangely affected the
lives of her sons ; all would have been different
if they had remained Mala priests. But she had
no regrets, only joy ; because she knew that
salvation comes through none other but Jesus
Christ.

THE PERSECUTOR AND HIS END

Under the shade of a tree at one end of the
village bazaar of Kutchipudy, a number of Sudras
were sitting in conversation more animated than
usual.

" They will become like Doras, and will refuse
to listen to our orders," said one of the Sudras.

" They now have a school as large as ours.
After they learn to read, how will they do our
work?" said another.

" I had a bullock," said a third, " which was
sick several weeks. It died, and I called the
Madigas. They took it away outside the village,
secured the hide and buried the rest. When I
bargained with them for the sandals which they
must give in turn, they refused to give as much
as formerly. I told them I gave them the whole

bullock ; why did they bury the meat ? ' Such

247

248 A BATTLE-GROUND

filth/ they said, 'shall not come into our village
any more.' What shall we do with them ? They
are undoing the customs of our fathers."

The Munsiff of the village, Ballavanti Durgiah
Naidu, had thus far been silent. Now he took
up the turban that lay by his side, put it on, and
rose up as if to go. " I will teach them," he
said. " Ten more have now gone to Ongole to
be baptized. When they return I shall force
them all to become as heretofore."

Durgiah Naidu was a man of iron will, of re-
lentless harshness, a man who carried to the
bitter end what he had once begun. Several of
the Sudras looked at him as he rose. They
meant no ill. They and their fathers before
them had considered themselves in a sense the pro-
tectors as well as the employers of the Madigas.

One said, in a drawling tone of voice : " They
are not disrespectful. Even when they send
word they cannot come to work on Sunday, they
beg, in polite words, to be allowed to do the
work the next day."

Another, who had not noticed the hard look
in Durgiah Naidu's face, said : " But where will

THE PERSECUTOR 249

it end ? Soon we shall have to look for some
one else to do our work."

After a few days the Munsiff, Durgiah Naidu
called ten of the chief men in the Madiga hamlet
who had become Christians. He said to them :
" You have gone to Ongole and have been im-
mersed into the water in the name of Jesus
Christ. You are thereby unclean. Unless you
here again immerse yourselves in the tank, and
wash off that uncleanness, we shall not allow
you to enter the village." The tank lay between
the Sudra village and the Madiga hamlet, a short
distance away from each. The village Karnam
had come. The Yettis were there to carry
out any orders. Large numbers of Sudras had
come to see what would happen, for they knew
that Durgiah Naidu intended to take extreme
measures. The friends and relatives of the ten
Christian men came running from the Madiga
hamlet, full of misgivings.

The Christians, though in fear and trembling,
refused to do as the Munsiff had ordered. Their
preacher stood by and encouraged them ; more
than this he could not do. The crowd had moved

250 A BATTLE-GROUND

toward the tank, and Durgiah Naidu said, " Go
in there and dip yourselves under water, that I
may know that the Ongole uncleanness is gone."
The men did not move an inch. The Munsift
then ordered the Yettis to put their long sticks
on the necks of the Christians and push them
under the water. They cried and remonstrated,
but the Munsiff shouted : " Dip them under !
The uncleanness must go." Most of the men
were pushed forward with so much force that
they fell into the water. Cruelty was added to
the indignities heaped upon them.

This was not enough for the Munsiff. His
next step was to force the Christians to resume
their former worship. On the bank of the tank
there was a stone idol of the goddess Poleramah.
With much shouting and confusion a buffalo and a
goat were brought and placed before the idol ; the
Yettis struck the blow, and the warm blood flowed
freely over the idol, much to the delight, it was
thought, of the goddess, whose thirst for blood is
never quenched. The Christians were forced to bow
before the idol. Some of the blood was taken
from it and their foreheads marked with it.

POLERAMAH AND HER BROTHER.

{Page. 250

THE PERSECUTOR 251

The horrors of the occasion lasted all night.
Specially trained singers had been engaged to
relate vile stories about the goddess Poleramah,
accompanying themselves by their instruments.
Intoxicated with sarai, people danced round the
idol. The Christians too were ordered to dance,
and again they submitted ; their persecutors were
in a frenzy of excitement, and resistance would
have meant death. A prospective terror was
added to the persecutions of the hour when the
Munsiff threatened to drag them before the
Tahsildar and accuse them of theft. They knew
how difficult and almost impossible it would be
for them to prove their innocence.

The Sudras now thought that Christianity was
literally wiped out of the Madiga hamlet. They
reasoned that if one of themselves lost caste in
any way, all transgressions could be made null
and void if the priest, after performing various
ceremonies, burnt the tongue with a golden wire.
To apply the proceedings of the caste people to
those who were outcasts was out of the question.
But the measures which had been taken were
certainly very rigid, and thus the subject was

252 A BATTLE-GROUND

dismissed for a time. The Christians were in
constant fear, and avoided everything that could
bring their religious belief into unnecessary pro-
minence. They had told the Ongole Missionary
all about the brutal treatment which they had
received. He knew how unequal would be the
conflict should they try to show resistance, and,
therefore, advised them to keep quiet, pray much,
and to trust in God, who would yet help them.

Several months had passed, when the news was
spread abroad that the Missionary was coming on
tour. It was well known that, wherever he
camped, he asked for the village Munsiff and the
Karnam. He was always polite to them, and
asked them to remain and listen to what he told
the crowds who came to the tent about Jesus
Christ and the great salvation He had brought to
'men. And generally the village officials showed
him every courtesy in return. But there had been
occasions when the Missionary found it necessary to
emphasize to village authorities that the welfare of
these despised Madigas was of importance to him.

Even before the tent arrived in the grove near
Kutchipudy the whole village knew what hap-

THE PERSECUTOR 253

pened in a neighbouring village, where the Dora
had his camp. The Brahmins had come to him
en masse to demand redress, because some Chris-
tians, coming from a distance, had passed through
their bazaar on their way to the camp. It was an
old time custom for the Madiga to step far off to
one side whenever a Brahmin passed, for even the
wind that had swept over the Madiga was con-
sidered polluting to the Brahmin. The Christians
were fast outgrowing this aspect of their former
abject condition. When the Brahmins that day
had called to them to leave the road, and had
stood in their way to prevent their advance, it had
happened that a Christian woman, by accident,
had touched a Brahmin. Much indignation, there-
fore, was felt in the little Brahmin community.
No satisfaction, however, was to be gained from
the call on the Missionary. He told them that the
bazaar was a public thoroughfare, and was for all ;
and that if they did not want to be touched, they
must step to one side. This, indeed, meant an
upheaval of the social relations of the past! It
was equivalent to saying that a Brahmin should
step aside to let a Madiga pass !

254 A BATTLE-GROUND

There was great excitement, therefore, in Kutchi-
pudy when the Missionary arrived. He gave the
morning to the Christians, and for the afternoon
invited the Munsiff, Durgiah Naidu, to his tent for
an interview. Few people remained in their
houses that afternoon ; hundreds gathered about
the tent. The Missionary received Durgiah Naidu
politely, offered him a chair in his tent, and talked
and remonstrated with him at length. Those who
were outside, looking into the wide-open tent
doors, were disappointed, for there was no scene.
The preacher of Kutchipudy, and others of the
preachers who accompanied the Missionary on
his tour, sat with him in the tent

It seems the Missionary tried to show to the
Munsiff that he was guilty of a usurpation of
power, and that he was doing contrary to the
spirit of the English Government. The Dora
talked in this wise: "The Queen is our mother,
and you are eating her pay. You ought, therefore,
to treat all her subjects alike ; you have no right
under English law to persecute these Christians.
Many letters have come to me full of the troubles
you have heaped upon them. You are doing

THE PERSECUTOR 255

wrong, and God sees your doings. As a Chris-
tian, and as one who knows that you are doing
contrary to the wishes of the rulers of this coun-
try, I ask you to stop." It was said among those
present that Durgiah Naidu, who was a large,
portly man, for he was rich and lived well, went
into the tent breathing somewhat excitedly, won-
dering what the Missionary, who had travelled so
far to look after his doings, would say to him.
When he saw that he was to be merely admon-
ished, he, in the words of the spectators, " breathed
comfortably like a frog." He agreed, finally, that
he would cease from persecuting the Christians
and would fareat them kindly.

Durgiah Naidu had been under the impression
that the Missionary would leave that night, that
all would be as heretofore, and since he and others
thought that he had forced the Kutchipudy Chris-
tians back into heathenism, it certainly seemed as
if he had thus far proved the stronger in the race.
Great was his rage when he heard that in the
evening, after he had left the Missionary's tent,
thirty had asked for baptism, that the Dora had
put them off, telling them that they needed much

256 A BATTLE-GROUND

faith to stand firmly in this place, but that they
had insisted that they could bear whatever might
come.

In the morning, long before sunrise, the Munsifif
took the Yettis and a few of his own servants,
and walked past the tank in the direction of the
Madiga hamlet. He stood at a distance ; the
Yettis brought to him the leading men among
those who had applied for baptism. In an angry
tone he said : " The Dora was going last night.
You kept him here. Now go away, or I shall kill
you." They saw the look of fierce determination
in his face ; they trembled before it, and went
away across the fields, where his wrath could not
reach them.

Durgiah Naidu determined to remain, and, by
his presence, to control the situation. He stood
on the high bank of the tank, covered with trees,
between the Madiga hamlet and the Missionary's
tent Ten of the prominent Sudras, with long
sticks in their hands, gathered around him. The
sun was just rising when the Missionary came to-
ward the tank. He had heard that some of the
Madigas had fled, and had seen how Durgiah

THE PERSECUTOR 257

Naidu stood and watched every one who ap-
proached his tent.

Now came the encounter which all had expected
the previous day. Two men, endowed with
strength far above the average, met, one strong
in defending the rights of men who, at the hands
of Christian teachers, were taking the first step
out of a crushing serfdom ; the other strong in
holding them with the iron grip of conservatism
where their ancestors had been held. The Chris-
tians gathered around their Dora ; his two faithful
servants, his lascars and bandy men, too, came.
A crowd of Sudras came to see what the issue
would be.

Many a time since then has the preacher of
Kutchipudy been asked to tell what the Dora said
to Durgiah Naidu on that morning. There were
many who could prompt him should he forget.
These are the words of the Missionary as they
to-day live in the memory of the people : " If you
thought that I was sleeping last night you were
mistaken. After I had slept a few minutes, I
jumped in my sleep, and woke up thinking about
you. I talked with you yesterday kindly ; you

w.s.s. 17

258 A BATTLE-GROUND

this morning violate your promise. Don't you
know that the English Government punishes such
evil deeds as yours? You are like the frog that
wanted to be as large as the ox, and breathed so
full of air that it burst. You may yet lose your
position."

With a careless insolence the Munsiff said, " If
I lose it, what is that to me ? "

Then the Dora's wrath knew no bounds. His
eyes flashed with fire. " But you will care when
you find yourself in prison, and, as a convict, work
on the roads, carrying baskets of gravel on your
head. Even if the English Government do not
make you as if you had never been, God will wipe
you out unless you cease from evil-doing. As the
hawk darts upon the chicks, so you destroy these
Christians. I am a Padre, and have only one
tongue, not a double tongue like the snakes, and I
tell you the truth, that God is not dead, and that
He will reckon with you before many months
unless you now stop."

Fear entered the hearts of the Sudras. They
moved away from Durgiah Naidu and said :
" What use is it to worry these Christians ? Why

THE PERSECUTOR 259

don't you let them alone ? " They followed at a
distance when the Missionary went to the well in
the Madiga village, into which, he had heard, the
Munsifif had ordered thuma trees to be thrown —
trees that have so strong an odour that they make
water almost undrinkable. He requested Durgiah
Naidu to let his Yettis remove them, and stood
by until the logs of ill-smelling wood had been
taken out and thrown at a distance. Then he
went to the tank, to the idol Poleramah, and had
the whole story of that disgraceful scene repeated
to him. He was very sad. He told the Christians
to endure for a season, and let all that region
witness the faith that was in them. In due time,
he assured them, God would either make Durgiah
Naidu a changed man, or that He would in some
way overrule events, so that deliverance and free-
dom would be theirs. That day he stayed ; but
toward evening he mounted his horse and rode to
his next camp at Kodalur. His tent followed,
and next day the grove where the Missionary had
camped was deserted.

The Madigas are not without courage. They
will dare and do, showing that long generations

26o A BATTLE-GROUND

past valiant blood flowed in their veins. Those
candidates for baptism who had fled before Dur-
giah Naidu one day determined the next to walk
the fifteen miles to Kodalur and receive the ordi-
nance there. There were eighteen of them. When
the Missionary saw them he hesitated ; but he
could not refuse them, for they said they were
prepared to stand firmly whatever might befall
them.

Durgiah Naidu had seen it clearly demonstrated
that the Christian religion cannot be washed off
with tank water, and that the worship of Poler-
amah cannot be forced upon unwilling men with
the reeking blood of buffaloes and goats. He did
not try this experiment again. Instead, he deter-
mined that, since the Christians had loosened the
old relation that existed between Sudra and
Madiga, they should be shown that under the new
regime the Sudras had no use for them. In con-
sequence they were shut off from contact with the
Sudra part of the village. If they tried to walk
the usual roads there were Yettis there to pre-
vent them ; if they tried to enter the bazaar of the
village they were ordered away ; some who re-

THE PERSECUTOR 261

sisted were cruelly beaten. No one employed
them ; they had nothing to eat.

Some of the Sudras remonstrated with Durgiah
Naidu, but he declared with an oath, " Though
it cost me a cartload of rupees I shall not rest
until there is not a Christian left in Kutchi-
pudy."

After an absence of just two months the Mis-
sionary reached his home at Ongole. He had
made one of the long tours that characterized those
early times. Territory now occupied by ten
mission stations he in those days regarded as his
field. He had visited ninety-eight villages where
there were Christians. In twenty-seven different
places he had pitched his camp. He had baptized
1,067 believers. The item of interest most dis-
cussed by the hundreds who came and went in the
mission compound, he found, was the latest de-
velopment of the Kutchipudy persecution.

At the monthly meeting held soon after there
was a general expression of desire to hear par-
ticulars of the persecution. On Sunday morning
the chapel was crowded with its audience of nearly
one thousand people. Before them all the preacher

262 A BATTLE-GROUND

and ten of the leading Christians of Kutchipudy
stood to tell their story. It was told with tears,
for their hearts were very heavy. It seemed as if
they could not endure more. Their children were
crying for want of food, and many among them
had begun to eat leaves, and were dreading the
starvation that stared them in the face.

Several of the older preachers, who knew by
experience that the hand of God moves with
mighty power, and that the prayer of faith does not
pass unheeded, prayed with an earnestness that
seemed to look for something unforeseen. All
felt that they had a part in this, for if the Munsiff
of Kutchipudy could thus drive a village of Chris-
tians to the verge of starvation, would not the
Sudras everywhere harden their hearts against the
Christians, and plunge them into similar distress ?
The collection was taken ; twenty-seven rupees was
the amount sent to the sufferers, one rupee for
each family. But what could they do with money
when the bazaars were closed to them?

The preachers of that region asked that some
one be appointed to come to the villages where
there were Christians and collect contributions

THE PERSECUTOR 26?.

o

of grain. The choice fell upon one of their
number, who soon arrived at Kutchipudy with
two cartloads of grain which had been given him,
a measure here and a measure there. A new
principle was this, the application of which was
displayed before the wondering eyes of thousands.
The despised Madigas were standing by each
other in brotherly love!

It was on the 30th of April that the Yettis of
Kutchipudy raised the funeral-pyre for the
Munsiff, Ballavanti Durgiah Naidu, applied the
torch, and stood at a distance while the fire con-
sumed his mortal remains. The persecutor was
dead. A letter was sent to Ongole. The Mis-
sionary felt as if in the presence of Almighty God,
for had he not told Durgiah Naidu that if he did
not cease God would cut him off? The message
was passed from village to village. Wherever
Yettis went with loads to deliver they told of the
death of Durgiah Naidu.

Many now recalled the interview between the
Missionary and Durgiah Naidu at sunrise, January
30th. Did he not say, " Within three months
God will kill you unless you cease from persecu-

264 A BATTLE-GROUND

ting these Christians ? ' On the very day, three
months later, he died. Others said they saw the
Missionary in his fierce wrath lay his hand on
Durgiah Naidu's shoulder, as he warned him of
the judgment of the Almighty. In that very
place, it was said, the carbuncle or cancer, which
defied the skill of native physicians, had appeared,
had caused excruciating pain, silently borne, for
none should know that the power that had vowed
destruction to the Christians was being laid low.
And thus death had brought the end. Fear fell
upon all ; and those who had hatred in their hearts
found that their hands trembled when they strove
to do harm to the Christians. But thousands
who bore the name of Christ, though hushed in
awe, took courage, for they saw that their God is
not one who hath ears and hears not, eyes, yet
seeth not, but that He is a God who fights for
those who trust in Him.

There was peace now in the Madiga hamlet of
Kutchipudy. The Sudras had drawn away from
Durgiah Naidu toward the end, and had said :
" You deserve it all. Why did you raise your
hand against the Christians ? " They now called

THE PERSECUTOR 265

the Christians to work, and treated them with con-
sideration. But gloom settled over the house of
Durgiah Naidu. It was commonly said that the
curse of the Missionary rested upon it. The
widow went to Kottapakonda to worship Kotta-
paswami, in the hope that the curse would be
removed from her household. She came home
and fell sick with cholera. She insisted that the
preacher should be called to give her medicine,
hoping that thus the power of the curse might be
lessened. She died. The two sons grew up, and
became heads of families. But there were deaths
in the family, and deaths among the cattle, and
people said, "It is the curse of the Padre Dora."

Fifteen years had passed, when one day the
Missionary again camped in the grove opposite the
Christian hamlet, in sight of the tank. The sons
of Durgiah Naidu feared to go near. They remem-
bered their father's guilt and his end. The preacher
told them not to fear, for were they not kind to the
Christians ? But they said, " We, too, may die."

Their dead mother's elder brother said : " Shall
this go on year after year ? The Missionary must
remove the curse." He went to one of the

266 A BATTLE-GROUND

preachers, who had come with the camp, and
asked him to request the Padre to come to the
house of Durgiah Naidu and pray there, for then
the curse would no longer hover over the family.
The preacher went into the tent with his message.
The Missionary asked, " Are they now kind to
the Christians ? " The preacher assured him that
they were. " Give order to have my horse saddled."

The uncle of Durgiah Naidu's sons hastened
home and gathered the whole family into the
house. They placed a chair for the Missionary,
and on the table they put a large plate of sugar
and fruit to offer to him. He came with two of his
preachers. They were led into the house by the
men of the family with every mark of courtesy
and respect. The women stood on one side
holding their children.

He asked, " Is evil-doing gone out from here?"
They said, " All is gone." " Then why do you
not believe in the true God ? " Several answered
him that they would believe.

But now the uncle, who was in one sense head
of the family, spoke. " We desire," he said, using
very courteous language, " to enjoy the blessing of

THE PERSECUTOR 267

your God upon our household. Your God hears
your prayer, and we believe that if you, here in
this spot, ask Him to look upon us with favour
that we shall once more be a happy family."

This family group knew nothing of Old Testa-
ment dispensation, yet trembled before that law of
Jehovah that visits the sins of fathers upon their
children. The Missionary and his two preachers,
who had come to ask for blessings where he, who
had died in iniquity, had cursed the believers of
Jehovah, represented the New Testament with its
injunctions to " bless them that persecute you."
The Missionary asked for peace upon this house-
hold. The gloom that had hung over it like a
threatening cloud was dispelled. He motioned to
his preachers to accept the gift of sugar and fruit,
and amid the grateful salaams of all mounted his
horse and rode back to his camp.

The idol of Poleramah no longer stands on the
bank of the tank at Kutchipudy. It was packed
upon one of the Missionary's carts, among the
tents, rolled up in huge bundles, and was taken to
Ongole, where it stands in the mission compound
as a relic of the past.

THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

A Great Calamity
A Modern Pentecost
Conclusion

A GREAT CALAMITY

There were many who anxiously watched the
clouds in the year 1876, for if another monsoon
season passed by with cloudless sky a famine was
inevitable.

Various ways and means were used of pre-
dicting the evil days that seemed to be near, but
the old gardener in the mission compound had
a way all his own, and he confidently asserted
to every one that without doubt a famine was
coming.

" Every day," he said, " the Dora came out on
the verandah and looked at a little board with a
thin glass bottle on it, and in the bottle there was
a little mud. And he looked carefully and said,
' Gardener, there is going to be a famine,' and I

said surely it would come."

271

272 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

I did not grasp his meaning. " What sort of
board and glass bottle and mud was it?" I
asked.

" Is there not one on the verandah now ? "
and he pointed to the barometer ; and then I saw
that the old man had taken advantage of the
methods of Western science in predicting what
was to come.

I knew many who lived through the famine of
1876-78. Those who were children during those
years were many of them stunted in growth, and
some had a look of premature age on their faces.
But old men and women remembered a famine
which must have had unusual horrors, for all said,
" Men ate men in that famine." I was not willing
to believe them, for I had heard my husband
say that though thousands died in 1876-78, and
men were fierce with the pangs of hunger, he had
never seen a trace of cannibalism. When, there-
fore, some one told me of the famine of 1836, that
" men ate men," I always asked whether they
knew of any one who had seen it. A woman did
tell me that her mother was told by a neighbour
that she saw a woman put her child into a pot to

A GREAT CALAMITY 273

boil it. Her voice sank to a whisper as she told
me. It seemed too horrible to tell.

A large proportion of the Madigas live so close
to the starvation point all the year round that the
first failure of crops brought hunger to their door.
When another rainy season passed without bring-
ing sufficient moisture to help the seed to sprout,
there was great distress. The Madigas went to
the Sudras for aid, but they had no harvest to
share with them. They themselves had not
enough to eat, and were beginning to sell the
substantial silver belts and gold bracelets of the
family to buy food. But cattle were dying of
hunger and thirst, and the Madigas found an
occasional meal by picking the morsel of meat off
the bones of starved animals. The red fruit of
the cactus became desirable food. Many began to
eat leaves, seeds and weeds.

The Ongole Missionary's daily visits to the
" board, thin bottle and mud inside," showed the
anxiety which he felt. He was thinking of ways
to meet the approaching calamity. Ten years had
passed since he came to Ongole. He counted as
his flock 3,269 Christians, nearly all from the

W.S.S. 18

274 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

Madigas. He had been among them so much, he
knew that they were destitute and poor even when
harvests were plentiful. The emaciated figures of
men and women that were haunting the com-
pound in ever-increasing numbers, calling to him
whenever he appeared in the verandah, " We are
dying ! we are dying ! " showed him that some-
thing must be done.

The preachers came and went with careworn
aces. They knew something of the activity in
the mission bungalow, of appeals for help sent to
America, of correspondence with the Government
in Madras. Ere long they were sent out with a
message that all could earn cooley and enough to
eat if they came to Razupallem, where the Mis-
sionary had taken a contract for digging. The
English Government were undertaking relief work
of various kinds. The Buckingham Canal, ex-
tending from Madras north to Bezwada, on the
East Coast, offered relief work on a large scale.
' The Ongole Missionary had taken a contract to
dig three miles of this canal. The relief camp
was to be at Razupallem, ten miles east of Ongole
and near the coast.

FAMINE-STRICKEN CHKISTIANS.

[Pa£^e 274.

A GREAT CALAMITY 275

One of the preachers, with twenty coolies to
help him, was sent ahead to prepare the camp.
The Missionary came and showed him where to
put up the rows of huts, forming little streets.
There were palm trees and bamboos growing all
along the sea-shore. A man was sent out to nego-
tiate with the villagers for palm leaves and bamboo
sticks, with which to build the little huts. Several
wells had to be dug, not deep, for water was near
the surface. The potters in the surrounding vil-
lages were given an advance for pots, that the
starving crowd might buy for a copper, and boil
their meal over a fire of the dry leaves and sticks
to be picked up everywhere.

At the appointed time the preachers came into
Ongole from far and near with a multitude of
starving people. The Missionary had sent Ko-
matis ahead to Razupallem with bags of grain to
sell. He sent word to the preacher who was there
to be ready, for a great crowd would come in the
afternoon. At two o'clock they began to arrive,
and as the preacher and his helpers looked over
the plain towards Ongole, the advancing multitude
seemed to them like a huge ocean-wave rolling

276 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

upon them. The huts were soon filled. Families
had the first consideration. Those who found no
room had to lie under the trees.

But the tumult and the contentions of that night !
The Missionary, after seeing that each had suffi-
cient in his hands for an evening meal, had come
to the camp. He tried to establish order ; but
who can reason with hungry men? There was
bargaining for pots ; there was wrangling over the
grain. So eager for food were they that three
preachers had to walk up and down among the
huts to see that the palm leaves and the bamboo
sticks were not used for fuel, or that by careless-
ness the huts were not set on fire as the food
was boiling in the pots.

In the morning the digging began. Thirty
preachers were made overseers. Crude picks and
shovels were supplied. The men did the digging ;
the women filled baskets with earth, and carried
them away on their heads to empty on one side
and return.

During those first few days the Missionary in-
sisted that the preachers, too, must dig. "After
you come and show me your hands full of blisters,

A GREAT CALAMITY 277

I shall be certain that you know how it feels to
dig, and you will not be hard on any one." He
feared that some might assume a harsh attitude
when urging the starving people to work. Several
preachers told me they shovelled dirt till the
blisters rose, and they showed them to the Dora,
and he said, " Right ; you will make a good
overseer."

There were Komati Chetties in Ongole, who
thought they would take advantage of the thou-
sands in the camp at Razupallem. They brought
grain into the camp that was only half ripe.
It was cheap, and people bought it. Sickness
increased, and the Missionary, as he went about
giving medicine, enquired about the food. " Show
me the next Komati who brings spoiled grain
into this camp." Soon the preachers sent word
to his tent that two Komatis were coming with
a new supply. As soon as they saw the Dora
coming toward them, they dropped their bags in
fear and ran away. The bags were opened, and
the half-ripe grain fell into the sand. The Dora
stamped upon it with his feet till it was all mixed
with sand, and no one could find it to eat it.

278 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

After this no grain was sold in the little bazaar
of the camp that had not been inspected and
pronounced fit to eat.

Wages were good. Those who had worked
for a time went home and sent friends and
relatives. The sick were brought on litters.
Those who were too weak to work were given a
subsistence allowance. But there was danger
lurking even in the abundance at the camp.
Some who came were too hungry to wait; they ate
the half-boiled grain out of the pot. And then
they lay down and died. Many a time the
preachers tried to keep these half-starved arrivals
from eating. They gave them " congee " to drink
— a kind of gruel — but they would not listen.
" Never mind, let me eat ; I am dying with
hunger"; and the remonstrances of the preachers
only angered them in their craving for a sub-
stantial meal. There were others so emaciated,
no matter how much they ate, they were always
hungry. They ate oftener and more than their
starved bodies could endure. Soon they were
found lying somewhere very still, and those who
looked at them found that they were dead.

A GREAT CALAMITY 279

The death-rate was large. No one knew how
many died each day. The Hving were so full of
trouble they could not dig graves for the dead ;
all they could do was to carry them outside the
camp into the cactus hedge. The jackals, dogs,
and birds did the rest. There were those whose
relations died. None could be found who would
dig a deep grave into the hard soil. Yet love
clung even where the dullness of despair had
taken away the sharp edge of pain. They dug
a few feet deep into the sand, and covered the
dead one well. At night the howl of the jackals,
so like the horrible laughter of fiends and demons,
was heard in the distance, and in the morning
none cared to go near.

Every one in the camp was sad at heart, and
many were full of fear. Cholera was abroad in
the camp, and death stared every one in the
face. One of the preachers told me how his wife
died of cholera on the way to the camp. There
were women there without husband or brother
to care for them ; there were children who had
survived their parents, and were now to learn that
Christianity is tender toward the fatherless. The

28o THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

roadsides everywhere were lined with the bleach-
ing bones of those who had to lie down on the
road to die. The heat was intense, and there
was no shade where they were digging. " Our
hearts were very heavy," the preachers told me
" and our Dora's hair turned white during that
year."

Each preacher had about one hundred people
working under him. He was responsible for the
amount of work which they did, and they received
their pay from him every evening. He became
acquainted with the company working under him,
even though there was much coming and going.
Often during the day some of the diggers would sit
down for a short rest, and then the preacher would
join them and hear them tell, in broken words and
a look of utter misery in their eyes, of the scattered
families and those who had died ; and there was
always the wail, " We are all dying ! " Then was
the time to say comforting words. The people
said afterwards, "They told us words which we
could not forget."

Distress was so great, no one thought of those
demons that have their eyes ever directed to this

A GREAT CALAMITY 281

earth, thirsting for blood. The demons seemed
to have joined together to slay the living, and who
could stop, in the search for a morsel to eat, to
propitiate them all ? The terrors of the famine
were greater than the terrors inspired by demons.
As for comfort and trust and hope, where in all
their cults had the Madigas anything to inspire
the firm belief that there is a hand that guides
all events and guides them in mercy?

As the preachers sat with an occasional group
of those who wanted rest, they said, " Our God
does not send trouble because He is thirsting for ^/
the lives of men. He has let this come upon us
because He saw that men were going all wrong —
that they were doing puja to gods in whom there
is no salvation. Jesus Christ, by dying for us,
has taken all our troubles upon Himself" And "'
then the preachers would take their New Testa-
ment, which they ever had with them, and they
would read verses to the people that seemed like
balm on their sore hearts and troubled minds —
especially " Come unto Me, all ye that labour and
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And
they went back to work. But after a time they

282 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

said, " Read us that verse again out of your holy
book." Never in any of their cults, not in the
Ramanuja sect, nor in the Nasriah sect, had
they heard such words ! And as they were
digging the memory of their old cults grew faint
in their minds. In their misery they turned to
Jesus Christ for His touch of healing.

The contract for three miles of digging was
finished after eight months of work. Rain came.
The seed was sown with many mantras, but it
rotted in the ground. The crowds that came to
the mission bungalow in Ongole were so great
that though the Dora stood on the east verandah
and gave relief to the men to carry home to
their families, and the Dorasani stood on the
west verandah daily giving grain to the women
i who had come with their starving children, it
\ was not enough. Four Christians had to act
\ as policemen, wearing a uniform, the pressure was
so great. When the servants carried the noon
meal the few yards from the cook-house to the
bungalow, they had to hold the dishes high above
their heads and start on a run, for there were
starved creatures everywhere ready to snatch it

A GREAT CALAMITY 283

from them. Every morning the dead were found
in the hedge around the compound. They had
come for help, but now had no need of it.

The preachers came in from the field, reporting
great distress. The Christians were dying, espe-
cially the aged and the children. The Missionary
could not journey here and there bringing relief
His presence was imperative at headquarters.
He had to make his preachers his stewards.
They went about, all over the country, with
money to give to the Christians. But they had
orders not to refuse any one they met in the
way starving who asked for enough to buy a meal.
They found men greedy and grasping in their
demand for help. Even the finer feelings of
family relationship were blunt, as the stronger
members of families wrangled with the aged and
weak, and begrudged them the help they had
received.

Again rain came. Bullocks and buffaloes had
died ; men harnessed themselves to the ploughs.
A crop was growing, but a plague of locusts came
and destroyed it. Ships came into the harbour
at Madras laden with grain, for Government did

284 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

its utmost to save the people. For the third
time, with the help of the Mansion House Fund,
seed-corn was given out plentifully in Ongole to
all who asked. Sudras came, and for ten rupees
carried away bags of seed-corn worth thirty
rupees. They promised to give plentifully to the
Madigas of the coming harvest. Many a Sudra
had gone to Ongole during the famine to tell
the Missionary of his distress, and had come
away helped and comforted. And many re-
membered this in the years that followed. The
activity at Ongole, the ceaseless readiness to
save from starvation the lowest stratum of society,
even the Madigas, was a display of the power
of Christianity that was a wonder in the eyes of
thousands. " It is a good religion," they said,
one and all.

A crop of millet, maturing quickly, tided the
people over several months, and then a sub-
stantial crop of rice was harvested. A great
calamity was over. What were the effects?

A MODERN PENTECOST

As the preachers went about on their fields
toward the close of the famine, they saw that
hundreds were ready for baptism. In villages
where heretofore they had been received in a
half-hearted kind of way they now found an open
door. People to whom they had talked many
a time about Jesus Christ in the years before the
famine now told them that they believed in
Him.

Those early Ongole preachers were a remark-
able group of men. There were several among
them who stood head and shoulders above their
fellows, born leaders of men. Others, more retir-
ing, were spiritually-minded to an eminent degree.
People said of them, " They have faith ; when

they pray to their God He hears them." Several

385

286 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

had the gift of the evangelist ; they went where
others had not been, and left behind them, as they
journeyed, many a village where it was said, " It
would be well to join this new religion." The
majority of the preachers settled as pastors,
making some central village their headquarters,
and directing their efforts to all the region round
about.

Some of his best men the Missionary placed
at the outposts, where they had to hold their own
far away from the mission station. Many a man
developed ability under the stress of circum-
stances. The wave of enthusiasm that carried
with it the strong did not leave behind the weak ;
they too pressed forward with a strength not
their own. The esprit-de-corps of those years must
have been of unusual intensity.

Four years before the famine began, a Theo-
logical Seminary was opened in Ramapatam. Of
the early workers a number were together at
/ school in Ongole for a year. They studied, but
they knew that the days were precious. Mes-
sages came from far and near, sent by those who
had heard only enough to make them eager to

A MODERN PENTECOST 287

hear more. The day came when the Missionary
told them that they must go ; there were too
many calls. He promised them another oppor-
tunity for study, but it never came. They went
forth, and carried such burdens that never again
could they lay them aside even for a season.

Their preaching was characterized neither by
profound thinking nor by brilliant oratory. It
was just the story of Christ and Him crucified
told over and over again. Much as, in the days
of primitive Christianity, simple but earnest men
told the sublime story of the life and death of
Christ to every one, so these men went about
making Christ the centre of their thoughts and
words. A spirit of tender allegiance to Christ
was abroad among the early Ongole Christians
that is seldom found among men. They could
sit together and weep like children as they
repeated to each other the story of the suffering
of the Christ. " Such was our love for Him in
those days," they said to me.

And now these men came to the Missionary
to talk with him about the hundreds, even thou-
sands, who were ready for baptism. But^ he

288 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

always said, "Wait till the famine is over."
Word had gone out some time ago that no more
famine-money would be issued in Ongole ; still
he feared that the hope of further help might
form a motive in the minds of some. During
fifteen months there had not been a single bap-
tism. But he knew his field ; he had refused large
companies who came and asked for baptism. He
knew that when once the flood-gates were opened
none would be able to stay the tide. A letter
came from the Mission Secretary in Boston :
" What is this that I hear of your refusing to
baptize those who sincerely ask for the ordi-
nance? Who has given you a right to do
this?"

In June, 1878, the Missionary wrote to his
assistants to come to Vellumpilly, ten miles north
of Ongole, where there was a travellers' rest-house
by the side of the Gundlacumma River, and a
grove of tamarind trees, that they might re-organize
their work. As cholera and small-pox were still
prevalent in the villages, the danger of bringing
these diseases to Ongole was thus avoided. He
asked them to bring with them only those Chris-

A MODERN PENTECOST 289

tians who had urgent matters to lay before him
and to leave the converts behind. Contrary to
orders, the converts followed the preachers, and
when the Missionary came to Vellumpilly he was
met by a multitude who asked for baptism.

He mounted a wall, where he could look into
their faces, and told them he had no further help
to give them, and they must return home. They
cried : " We do not want help. By the blisters
on our hands we can prove to you that we have
worked and will continue to work. If the next
crop fail we shall die. We want to die as
Christians. Baptize us therefore ! " He hesitated
— again the same cry. Then he withdrew and
talked with the preachers, who, as the spokes-
men of the people, repeated their request. He
dared not refuse longer those who begged to be
received into the Church of Christ.

On the first day all gathered under a large
banyan-tree, sitting close together on the sand.
Many voices tried to join in the hymns that had
become general favourites. The volume of sound
was discordant, but it gave evidence that men
were very much in earnest. And then the Mis-

w.s.s. 19

290 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

sionary preached on those words that all had
learned during the famine — " Come unto Me, all
ye that labour." For an hour and a half he talked,
and none grew weary ; he had borne their trouble
with them, and now he could talk out of the
fulness of an experience in which all had a part.
This sermon struck the key-note of those days
by the side of the Gundlacumma River.

Early next morning an enquiry meeting on a
large scale began. The Missionary told the
preachers to separate the people, each one taking
those who belonged to his special field under one
of the trees. There were many groups thus
scattered ; some counted hundreds, some only a
few. Over each was the preacher, and to assist
him he had the Madiga headmen of the villages
represented, and the heads of households. The
tribal character of the movement made itself felt,
for each group was again subdivided into villages,
and then into families. But this gregarious char-
acter of a tribal movement had its influence only
to a certain extent. There was not a man or
woman who was not called upon to give evidence
that they had entered upon a new life. The

A MODERN PENTECOST 291

individual had to stand for himself, and each one
was made to feel that such was the case.

I asked the old preachers many questions
about those days at Vellumpilly. One of them
told me : " I was on one side with about one
hundred people. The Dora came to me and
said : ' Do you know all these people ? ' I said :
* I do not know them all.' He looked them over
with me ; he had been in their villages. He told
me to send away all those whom I did not know,
but they would not go, they stayed around the
camp. But I wrote down the names of those
only whom I knew." This was evidently the
general mode of proceeding.

They told me the story of one of the assistant
preachers, who to this day likes to magnify his
office, and showed the same characteristic then.
He had brought a crowd of people with him,
five hundred at least. The Missionary saw them,
and called for the preacher who was responsible
for that part of the field. " For how many of
these people can you bear witness that they are
really Christians ? " He selected about ten ; for
the rest he hesitated to take any responsibility.

292 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

It was an evil day for the assistant preacher.
Some plain words were said to him by the Dora
and he and all his company were sent home.
' One of my oft-repeated questions was : " How
could you tell that a man or woman was a
Christian ? " They said : " We had many ways
of telling. When men and women prayed and
sang hymns, we knew that Divine life was in
them. But we knew, too, when they stopped
drinking sarai, and fighting, and eating carrion,
and working on Sundays, there was a change in
them, and we could tell." Most of those who
were baptized at Vellumpilly were really be-
lievers before the famine, but for some reason
they had held back. The preachers could tell by
the attitude of responsiveness that a change had
been wrought. They seem to have felt more care
and anxiety about those who were refused the
ordinance than those who received it. Hundreds
must have been sent away. Even to the present
time there are villages where the preachers are
greeted with words like these : " We came to
Vellumpilly to have our 'juttus' cut off, and to
be baptized, but you refused. Now go away to

A MODERN PENTECOST 293

those whom you then accepted. We do not
want you."

On the first day, July 2nd, 1878, a beginning
was made— 614 were baptized; on the next day
2,222 followed ; on the third day there were 700
more,— making 3,536 in three days. The multi-
tude gathered on the bank of the Gundlacumma
River, where the water at this season of the year
is fairly deep. The six ordained preachers took
turns, two officiating at a time. The names of
the candidates were read. Without delay and
without confusion one followed the other. As
one preacher pronounced the formula : " I baptize
thee in the name of the Father, the Son, and
the Holy Ghost," the other preacher had a candi-
date before him, ready again to speak those words,
sacred in the history of the Church, and to bap-
tize him likewise. And thus it was possible to
immerse 2,222 in one day.

The Missionary stood by, helping and direct-
ing ; he did not baptize any one during those
days. He represented the link between this
event on the bank of an Indian river and the
sentiment of the Christian world. There would

294 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

be joy and gratitude in many hearts at home,
he knew. But critics, too, would not be far away,
who would charge him with undue haste in
admitting into the Church of Christ a multitude
who could not have been taught more than the
most elementary outline of Christian teaching.
Years of excessive toil were at hand, to be spent
in the Christian training of this multitude. More
were coming. Before the year was over 9,606
members had been added to the Church at Ongole,
making a total membership of 13,000. And the
years that followed were but a continuation of
that year. Once again, in 1890, there was a
similar event, when 1,671 were baptized in one day.
But what relation did the famine have to this
mass-movement? The distress of those two
years — the pangs of starvation and the ravages
of pestilence — undoubtedly made many a soul
turn to that great and merciful God, of whom
the Missionary and his assistants preached not
only in words but in deeds. God, in His mighty
power, can make even a calamity like famine
serve as a means to bring about His own Divine
ends. But while the famine was one of the

A MODERN PENTECOST 295

conditions which favoured a mass-movement to-
ward Christianity among the Madigas, it was not
a normal, healthful condition.

It seems to me that a far more prominent
place has been given to the famine, as a condi-
tion favourable to this movement, than it deserves.
It is true, first came the famine, with its relief-
camp at the canal, and then came the baptism
of thousands. There is here a temporal suc-
cession, which seems to indicate the relation of
cause and effect. But I believe the movement
toward Christianity would have taken place in
the same proportion if there had not been a
famine.- The Pentecostal day on the bank of
the Gundlacumma River would not have been
but for the famine ; but those same converts
would in all probability have come, in smaller
companies at a time, but as the outcome of a
steady, normal growth.

The famine ushered in suddenly the second
period in the history of the Ongole mission.
Abruptness is inimical to the principle of growth
in the moral and spiritual, as well as the natural
world. During the ten years preceding the famine,

296 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

the preachers did their pioneer work under favour-
able circumstances, and the Missionary could
widen his borders and strengthen his work
throughout. There was normal growth, and the
converts came as fast as the mission could care
for them. The famine and that which followed
was an overwhelming experience. After the
veteran preachers had told me much of the
years before the famine, and I asked : " Now tell
me about the years after the famine," they asked
in turn : " What is there to tell ? Did not thou-
sands come ? " The events were of such huge
proportion they could not single out incidents
and remember detail.

Starvation implies an experience that is not an
elevating process to members of even a strong
and noble race. The degraded Madiga was
rendered more degraded by the greed with which
he sought for a morsel of food. If he had had
any possessions, a buffalo, a goat, he had lost
them. Emaciated, sick, poor beyond expression,
he had to try to regain his footing when the
famine was over. Any element of sturdy man-
hood in him had suffered a shock ; he was ready

A MODERN PENTECOST 297

to lean upon any one for support. In this con-
dition the mission took him and sought to make
a man of him. It is safe to say that some of
the most difficult problems which have confronted
the mission since that time were born of the
famine.

As men of the early days of the mission told
me their individual experience, I could mark the
steps essential in leading to conversion ; steps
conscious to the Western mind, conscious also to
these Madiga men and women. In their own
way they had come to a conviction of sin — there
was repentance, and there were faith and justifi-
cation. When the mass-movement began, these
steps were taken unconsciously ; the individual
was carried along to some extent by the multi-
tude. The Madiga community was shaken to
the foundation ; individual experience was merged
in the whole. But pervading all there was the
element of that deep spiritual life of the ten
years preceding the famine. It was as the leaven
that leavened the whole lump.

But the Madigas forsook their Gurus of the
Rajayogi sect. They brought to the Missionary

298 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

the idols that were theirs in the Ramanuja sect.
Whole bandy-loads of stone images of the serpent,
of the phallus of the Siva cult, were carted into
the compound at Ongole. The family of the
Matangi consulted with those who had contri-
buted toward the expense of her initiation, and
with their permission the Christian preacher broke
the stick of the Matangi into pieces and tore the
basket into shreds. Pots, decorated with shells,
sacred to Ellama, were smashed by the hundred.
It was a religious upheaval that swept away the
old cults of the Madigas with a powerful hand,
and there was nothing left in their stead but
Jesus alone.

Every degree of spiritual life and energy was
represented in the years that followed. There were
high courage, persecutions unflinchingly borne,
and noble example set. But there was also
spiritual apathy, mental and moral stagnation
Bangarapu Thatiah brought a woman to me,
leading a little boy by the hand, five years after
the famine. "This woman," he said, "has been
an honour to me and to my Master, Jesus Christ,
all over my field. When she became a Christian,

A MODERN PENTECOST 299

her husband said but little. Soon her eldest son
died, a bright lad of sixteen. Her husband
began to ill-treat her, and to say the boy had died
because she refused to worship the old svvamis.
Then another child died. He insisted that she
must forsake the new religion ; he tied her to a
tree and beat her ; he dragged her about the
ground by the hair, so that bunches of her hair
remained in his hand. Through it all her faith
in God and His mercy has not failed. Her hus-
band has left her and gone away with another
woman. Take her into school."

This instance is one of the bright lights that
illumine the scene. Does any one care to enquire
about the shadows, the spurious characters that
have entered in, the crass ignorance and the deep
degradation? I was out on tour among the
villages with my husband some years ago. In
the shade of a tamarind grove he was preaching
to a crowd of Madigas sitting before him. Twenty
Christians from a village where nearly all had
reverted to heathenism were before him. He had
been in their village in the morning, had seen
the swamis to which they were again making

300 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

puja. The men had let their "juttus" grow.
The women went about dirty and uncombed,
quarrelling and using evil words -to each other.
Carrion had been brought into the village. There
were filth and squalor beyond telling.

The Missionary described the condition in which
he had found them, and then broke out into an
appeal : " Oh, men ! I am not ashamed to be the
Guru of poor people, for Christ said He had come
that the sick might be healed and the poor have
the gospel preached to them. But when I some-
times see you in your villages, where you are weak
Christians, then I have a pain in my mind, and
I ask myself : * Why has God chosen me to be the
Guru of such dirty people ? ' " The men looked
at each other, and the women involuntarily stroked
down their unkempt hair.

But I could see, as I watched the faces of
these lowest specimens of an Indian Pariah tribe,
that, blunt as they were to any kind of teaching,
they were not without responsiveness. I could
see the shame in their faces. They were willing
to listen, and this responsiveness proved that
the spark of Divine life was there, for the spiritu-

A MODERN PENTECOST 301

ally dead cannot hear. But alas for the steep
road out of many centuries of almost brute
existence !

While the Missionary comes to one village of
this kind, he comes to many where he can be proud
of his people. Clean and tidy in their appear-
ance and in their houses, they come out to meet
him, the heads of households coming forward to
do the honours of the occasion. A school-house
in the village, and children proudly holding slates
under their arms, give evidence of the status of
the village. The Munsiff and Karnam come over
to say a respectful salaam to the Dora, because
the conduct of the Christians has taught them to
honour this Dora and his religion. Crowds come
to hear him preach, and Sudras are among them,
sitting attentively on one side, saying, " It is a
good religion. Let us listen."

There is an atmosphere of spiritual life and
energy abroad in such a village. And the ques-
tion comes : " Is there any power on earth, save
Christianity, that could thus uplift a community
within the short space of one generation?"

CONCLUSION

During many centuries the Dravidian village
community of Southern India has remained prac-
tically unchanged in its organization. The simple
wants of the villagers were met on the principle
of mutual service. Content with their condition,
there was a tendency to industrial and social
stagnation, while the stimulating influence of com-
petition was little known among them. Of late
years disintegrating forces have been at work, and
ancient Dravidian institutions are giving way to
communal life on a new basis.

In the old days there were common holdings
of land. Groups of craftsmen served the village,
and in turn received their share of the harvest, or
other payment in kind. The village as a whole
was responsible for the revenue to be paid to
the ruling Rajah. The English Government, at

the present time, deals with the individual cul-

302

CONCLUSION 303

tivator for the payment of revenue. Taxes are
paid in coin ; the system of mutual service, there-
fore, becomes unpopular, since each one learns
to reckon the money value of his services. In-
stead of joint holdings of land, the evolution of
individual property is in progress. Formerly
lawlessness and petty warfare necessitated a state
of cohesion in the village community. The peace
and prosperity of the present time permits of
internal rivalries ; there are competition and the
desire to excel. The joint interests of the old
system are giving way to individual interests.
There is disintegration on every hand.

The Madigas, too, are affected by these
changes. They, too, are individually responsible to
Government for the payment of taxes, and they
therefore seek employment which yields payment
in coin. There is a slow but steady breaking
away from their former dependence upon the
Sudras. Their serfdom as a tribe is slowly being
transformed into individual service at stated
wages. The Yettis, as the unpaid servants of
the Karnam, are no longer looked upon as neces-
sary adjuncts of the village administration. Their

304 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

number is gradually being reduced, and their
small holdings of land revert to Government,
because it prefers to pay its servants in coin.

The lot of the Madigas has greatly improved.
No petty Rajah can oppress them and force them
into servitude. They are still the burden-bearers
of the country ; but not as in former times, when
roads for traffic were few and railways unknown.
They have a right to say how heavy a load they
can carry. Nor is the Karnam the recipient of
their pay. When English gentlemen first began
to travel over the district, they asked the Karnam,
when they heard the clamorous entreaties of the
coolies for their pay, how much he was giving
to them. Gradually the rates of payment were
adjusted, much to the advantage of the cooley.

The Madiga is now a free British subject,
though he has only a very dim realization of the
fact. So far as the law can do this, the English
Government has set the prsedial slaves of India
free. Practically the Madiga may be the serf
of the Sudra, who has secured the right to his
perpetual servitude in ways that are lawful
according to ancient custom, and sanctioned by

CONCLUSION 305

the laws of Manu. But in the sight of the
English Government such contracts are divested
of their strong element of slavery.

While formerly law courts did not exist for the
Pariah, the equity of English law to-day, in
principle at least, knows no distinction between
man and man. With a true sense of what it
owes to the despised class among its subjects,
the Government of India has recently decided
upon the name PanchamUy " fifth caste," as a just
and honourable designation for the tribes which
have never found a place in the Hindu caste-
system. Religious liberty has been ensured to
all subjects of the Indian empire, and much is
being done to place education within the reach
of all — even of the most lowly.

Outward conditions have been created that
make it possible for the Pariahs to become edu-
cated and prosperous, even though Sudra and
Brahmin still regard them as outcasts. But who
shall plant in their hearts the desire for advance-
ment ? Much lies in the power of environment ;
yet a motive within to impel forward makes
environment more effective. The moral and

W.S.S. 20

3o6 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

social reformation of India depends to a large
extent upon the action of internal forces.

From what source are these internal forces to
be expected ? Education cannot, single-handed,
produce them. A desire for education must be
created before its beneficent task can be said to
have begun. Can religion form the motive power ?
When Christianity comes to the Pariahs of India,
it comes not merely as a religion. If it is true
to the teachings of its Founder, it comes to create
a new environment, as well as to save the soul
from death. Has Christianity in the case of the
Madigas shown itself equal to this emergency ?

The Madigas in several districts of the Telugu
country have become Christians in sufficient
numbers to make it possible to say that their
communities have been Christianized, so far as
that is possible, in the short period of thirty years.
AVe cannot, as we regard the Christian Madiga
communities, draw sharp lines of demarcation,
and say : This has been achieved by the Mission,
and that by the Government. The action of
internal and external forces has been blended.
The Mission has had a powerful ally in the

CONCLUSION 307

Government, and, in turn, the Mission has deserved
the recognition of Government as one of the most
beneficent forces within its borders.

In the districts where the movement among
the Madigas toward Christianity was strongest, a
social revolution on a small scale has taken place.
The turning to Christianity meant a breaking
away from ancient customs and associations. It
meant a change ni the relation of the Madiga
to the village in general, but also a change in the
Madiga hamlet itself. On the old tribal lines
the Christian community is being built up. Ves-
tiges of tribal characteristics are being assimilated
by the new communal life on a Christian basis.
The Madiga headman, and the heads of house-
holds to assist him, are now the " Peddalu," the
elders, of the Christian village. But their simple
village jurisdiction has undergone a complete
transformation.

An ethical standard has been given to the
Madigas by Christianity that is antagonistic to
the old. Formerly they regarded as sin the
neglect of the household and village gods, the
theft that was detected, the social transgression

3o8 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

so flagrant that it called for reproof from the
Madiga headman. Now they understand that sin
taints the motives of man, and renders him prone
to choose that which is evil. Formerly, when a
man went out to steal, he first bowed before the
swami, requesting help, and promising a share
in the spoil if carried away undetected. Now
" Thou shalt not steal ! " rings out with the un-
mistakable clearness of the Christian ethical code.
The hierarchy of self-appointed Gurus is sup-
planted by an organized band of Christian
preachers. They do not expect devout reverence
for their persons, nor do they sit down and say,
" Boil rice ! Cut a fowl ! Bring sarai ! " Perhaps
the self-support of native churches would be
further advanced if the preachers had more of
the belligerent spirit of the ordinary Guru. Their
connection with the Mission has given the
preachers an air of self-respect which stoops
neither to begging nor demanding. They do not
mystify their followers with mantras and mystic
formulae. Their teaching is pure monotheism ;
and the ethical ideal which they place before the
people is embodied in the God-man, Jesus Christ.

CONCLUSION 309

If the Madlgas could become landholders and
independent cultivators, they would soon be able
to educate their children and support their
preachers. The last resource left to the Sudras,
as they try to keep their former serfs in their
servile condition, is the attempt to frustrate any
move on their part to own land and cultivate it.
Even though a Madiga may come into posses-
sion of land, the Sudras have means of putting
obstacles in his way, so that only with great
difficulty can he raise his crops.

The Mission, aided liberally by Government,
has provided general education for the Madigas.
At Ongole there is even opportunity for the
Madiga lad to obtain a college education. But
the important moral factor of self-help is lacking.
Many families are so poor that they regard it
as a sacrifice, however gladly offered, when they
send their sons and daughters to school, instead
of keeping them at home to help earn cooley
for the family. Not until they are able to carry
the financial burdens of the new communal life,
that has been grafted upon the old, will they
gain the full benefit of Christian civilization.

310 THE POWER OF CHRISTIANITY

Industrial education could do much toward further
emancipating the Madiga. The only industry
now known to him is leather work, done with
crude tools, according to ancient usage. This
need also the Mission is beginning to meet.

Has Christianity been equal to the task of
furnishing the motive for the social as well as
religious regeneration of the Madigas ? Emphati-
cally it has. The Madigas say : " Our ancestress,
Arunzodi, cursed us, saying, ' Though you work
and toil^ it shall not raise your condition. Un-
clothed and untaught you shall be^ ignorant and
despised^ the slaves of aW During many cen-
turies the curse rested heavily upon us. Chris-
tianity has removed it. It is no more."

REFERENCES

A Comparative Grammar of the Dravidian or South Indian

Family of Languages. Rev. R. Caldwell, D.D., LL.D.

London, 1875. Second Edition.
The Indian Village Community. B. H. Baden-Powell,

M.A., CLE. 1896.
On the Original Inhabitants of Bharatavarsa, or India.

Gustav Oppert, Ph.D. 1893.
Tree and Serpent Worship. J. Fergusson, D.C.L,,M.R.A.S.

1873.
Religious Thought and Life in India. Sir Monier Williams.

1885.
Genealogie der Malabarischen Cotter. B. Ziegenbalg. 1867.

See p. 157, Legend of Ellama ; p. 42, Enumeration of

Saktis.
The Shaktas. H. H. Wilson, LL.D. Calcutta Review^

No. 47. 1855.
Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies. Abbd J. A.

Dubois. 1897.
Memorandum on the Progress of the Madras Presidency

during the last Forty Years of British Administration.

S. Srinivasa Raghavaiyangar, B.A,, CLE. 1893.
New India ; or, India in Transition. H. J. S. Cotton,

Bengal Civil Service. 1885.
A Manual of the Administration of the Madras Presidency.

1886.
A Manual of Coorg. Rev. G. Richter. 1870.

3"

312 REFERENCES

The Ramayana of Valmiki. Translated by Manmatha Nath
Dutt, M.A. Calcutta, 1892. See Books III. and IV.

The Mahabharata, Anusana-parvan. Verses 1872 ff.

The Dynasties of the Kanarese Districts of the Bombay
Presidency, by J. F. Fleet. 1882. See p. 10. A later
edition of the same work, to be found in the Official
Gazetteer of the Bombay Presidency^ vol. i. part ii. 1896.
See p. 293. A picture of the Canarese inscription, de-
ciphered by Mr. Fleet, is found in The Indian Anti-
quary^ vol. viii. p. 241. 1879.

The Kadambari of Bana. Translated from the Sanscrit by
C. M. Ridding. 1896. See pp. 30, 31.

The Katha Sarit Sagara ; or. Ocean of the Streams of
Story. By Sri Somadeva Bhatta. Translated from the
Sanscrit by C. H. Tawney, M.A. 1880. Two volumes.
See Matanga in the Index.

The Mackenzie Collection, Calcutta, 1828. By H. H.
Wilson. See vol. ii. p. 41. In the Nalakanara books of
local history the " female warrior Matangi " occurs.

Customs of the Comti Caste. Major J. S. F. Mackenzie.
1878. The Indian Antiquary^ vol viii. p. 36.

On the Study of the South Indian Vernaculars. Rev. G.
U. Pope, D.D. Journal Royal Asiatic Society. XVII.,
New Series, p. 163. 1885. See the story of the poet,
Tiruvalluvar.

An Account of the Religious Opinions and Observances ot
the Khonds of Gumsoor and Boad. Captain S. E.
Macpherson. Journal Royal Asiatic Society^ vol. vii.

1843.
Remarks on the Origin and History of the Para was. Simon
Casie Chetty. Jour?ial Royal Asiatic Society^ vol. iv.

1837.
The Geography of Rama's Exile. F. E. Pargiter, B.A.
Journal Royal Asiatic Society. 1894.

REFERENCES 313

The Rig Veda, Mandala x. 85. See the Bridal Hymn.
Samkhya und Yoga. R. Garbe. Encyclopaedia of Indo-

Aryan Research. 1896.
The Religions of India. A. Barth. 1882. See p. 202 on

Mother- worship.

From Darkness to Light. The Story of a Telugu. Rev
J. E. Clough, D.D. Boston. 1882. Third edition.
The History of the Telugu Mission of the American
Baptist Missionary Union. Rev. D. Downie, D.D. Phila-
delphia. 1893. This book gives the history of the Mission
in general, of which Ongole is a part. During a period of
thirty years the pioneers of the Telugu Mission believed
that, " God has a great people among the Telugus," while
but few cared for their message. Rev. Lyman Jewett, D.D.,
visited Ongole repeatedly, when the Mission had but its one
station, at Nellore. In 1865, after pleading with the Society
at home not to abandon the field, though barren and hard,
he returned to India with Rev. J. E. Clough, D.D,, and his
wife, the missionaries for Ongole. During the first ten years
at Ongole, a town situated 180 miles north of Madras, near
the coast, the foundations were laid, there was a steady in-
crease, and when the famine of 1876-8 began, the Ongole
Church counted 3,269 members. In July, 1878, within three
days, 3,536 were baptized, and during that year 9,606 were
added to the Church at Ongole. In 1883, the Church mem-
bership had increased to 21,000, and the nominal adherents
counted from four to five times that number. The first
division of the large field was therefore imperative. The
four Taluks — small counties — lying farthest away from On-
gole were made separate stations. Ten years later the work
at Ongole had again assumed unwieldy proportions, when a
second similar division took place. The movement spread,
and to-day the Mission counts twenty-six stations, with a

314

REFERENCES

membership of 53,748. Nearly all of these have come from
the Madigas living in the Nellore, Kurnool, and Kistnah
districts of the Telugu country. The Census of 1891 gives
the total number of Christians in the American Baptist
Telugu Mission as 84,158, by counting many of the ad-
herents.

The Numerical Status of the Madigas.

The entire population of India, 287,223,431.

The Leather Workers of India.

Northern Indiaj^^^"^^^^ '
IMochis

Southern India |M^^^§^^^ •
v-Chakilyans

Central India . Bambhi

Other Pariahs in India.

11,258,105
961,133
927,339
445,366
220,596

13,812,539
7,157,740

The entire Pariah population of India . 20,970,279
The Telugu population of Southern India 17,003,358

The Madigas are the leather workers of the Telugu
country, and as a large proportion of the Chakilyans, the
leather workers of the Tamil country, speak Telugu, they
appear to be immigrants from the Telugu districts.

(From the Census of 1891.)

INDEX

Aborigines and Aryans, i6,
25.

— chieftainship of, 29.

— cults of, 16, 89, 105.

— and Siva, 84, 117.

— and Vishnu, 116.

— and human sacrifice, 75,

lOI.

— andEnglishlaw, 217, 305.
Adimata, 63.

Adijambuvu, 13-20, 30, 41.
Adisakti, 14, 16.
Adisesha, 72, 74.
Adivaramu, 63.

Agastya, 55.
Aihole, temple at, 23.
Ankalamah, -]-], 122, 195,

214.
Arminian doctrine, 107.
Arundhati, 55.
Arunzodi, 54-57) 3io-
Aryan race, 9.

— cults, 82, 117.

— conquests, 9, 13.

— hermits, 10, 16, 21, 82.

— customs, II, 31, 174) iQo-

Asceticism, 58, 81.
Atri, 55.

Baal, groves of, 74.
Bainurdu, the, 64, 69.
Banabhatta, 25, 102.
Baputla Taluk, 1 59.
Bhang, 163.

Bhagavata Purana, 233.
Bhagvatam, 223, 227.
Blumenbach, 8.
Brahma and Adijambuvu, 14.

— and Yogi doctrine, 162.
Brahminical exaggerations,

12, 29, 59.

— hierarchy, 11, 80, 88.

— settlers, 12, 34.
Brahmins, the, intrigue of,

34.

— feast for, 29.

— legend about, 49, 52-55,

85.

— and Madigas, 39, 216,

253-

— and Chandalas, 80.

— and Matangi cult, 64, 76.

315

3i6

INDEX

Brahmins and aboriginal

cults, 82, 89.
Buddhist doctrines, 75, loi.
Buffalo, legend of a, 49.
Bundelkhand, 18.

Cabaras, the, 25.
Caldwell, 9.

Calvinistic doctrine, 107.
Canarese country, 17.

— inscription, 23.

— language, 10.
Carrion-eating, 41, 151, 185,

247, 291.
Caste, development of, 11,
32-

— loss of, 251.

— in Nasriah sect, 164.

— and reformers, 163, 222.

— and Madigas, 35,197,222,

253.
Caucasian race, 9.
Chalukya dynasty, 23.
Chandala element, 78.

— maiden, 28.

— origin, 7^. 88.
Chermanishta sect, 103-109,

220, 227.
Coorg, 59-61.

Delhi, ^^.

Dewan, 36, 2)^.

Dora — gentleman, 113, 138,

148, 187, 211, 236, 252.
Dorasani — lady, 114, 148,

189, 282.
Dravidian racial affinity, 8,

61.

— customs, II.

— literature, 10, 21.

— dynasties, 18, 23, -^t^.

— tribes, 8, 32, 44, 59, 94.

— village community, 31

302.
Drums, Madiga, 209, 215
Dubois, Abbd, loi.
Durga, 102.

Durgapisacha, King, 27.
Dyaus, jt,.

Ellama, possessed by, 63.

— and the great Saktis,

— legend of, 84-86.

— worshippers of, 181,297.

Family cohesion, 6.
Famine, 271-284.
Fleet, J. F., 24.

Dandaka, the forest, 18, 26,

80.
Dasiri, Madiga, 55, 190.
Dasyus, 10.

Gandharvas, the, 85.
Gheras, the, 18.
Godavery district, 120, 135.
Goomsur, 91.

INDEX

317

Government, English, and
human sacrifice, 75, loi.

— and famine rehef, 274,

283.

— and taxes, 303.

— and Rajah of Goomsur,

91.

— and Madigas, 35, 126,

217, 254, 306.
Gundlacumma river, 66.
Gurus — religious teachers,

customs of, 131, 144,

168.

— incident of, 133, 169.

— reverence for, 144, 167,

308.

— teaching of, 104, 115, 119,

157-

— worthlessness of, 131, 135.

Haeckel, 8.
Hanuman, 20.
Headman, Sudra, 33.

— Madiga, 44, 64, 143, 172.
Holdings of land, 32, 304.
Hymns of the Nasriah sect,

170, 175, 184.

— Christian, 184, 289.

— bridal, in Rig Veda, 55.

Idols, 164, 168, 176, 226, 238,

241.
Immortality, 202-206.
Incompatibility, social, 16.

Indra, 10, 80.
Inscriptions, 22.

Jamadagni, 72, 86.

Jambavan, 17-20.

Jambavanta, 17.

Jambu, 17.

Juttu — lock of hair — signifi-
cance of, 145, 151, 292,
299.

— incident of cutting, 145,

196, 215.

Kali, 102.

Kamadhenu, 12-15.
Kanigiri Taluk, 120.
Karnam, the office of, 32-

— persecution by, 210.

— and Yetti, 37, 205, 303.

— and Madigas, 252, 304.
Katachchuris, the, 23.
Kausika, 55.

Kaveri river, 84.
Khonds, the, 94.
Kolarian race, 8.
Komati Chetty, dishonesty
of, 277.

— marriage customs of, 47.

— wealth of, 46.

— asmoney-lenders, 46, 133.
Krishna, the god, 218, 225.
Krishna river, 18, 68.
Kshatriyas, 34.

Kumara Rama, 87.

3i8

INDEX

Kurral, the, 57, 59.

Lanka, the island, 19.
Legends, trustworthiness of,
24.

— of Adijambuvu, 13-20.

— of Arunzodi, 54-57.

— of Ellama, 84-86.

— of the Komatis, 49.

— of the Matangi, 71.

— of Vasugi, 57.

— of woman in Coorg, 60.

— of Veerabramham, 118.
Lemuria, 9.

Logan, 9.

Mackenzie, Major, 48.
Madiga, derivation of name,

23.

— clannish spirit of, 145^

179.

— headman, 44, 143, 172.

— idea of immortality, 202.

— poverty of, 42.
Madras, 91, 274.
Madras Presidency, 50, 94.
Madura, 57.
Mahabharata, 79.
Mahalakshmi, 91-94, 194.
Malas, relation to Madigas,

185, 222.

— priests among, 219, 246.
Malabar, 59-61, 78, 86.
Malayalim language, 10.

Mangalisa, 22.

Mansion House Fund, 284.

Mantras — prayers, 145, 170,
226, 239.

Manu, laws of, 305.

Marriage customs, 40, 47, 56
189.

Matanga, masc, interpreta-
tion of, 23, 79, 88.

— the king, 27.

— the sage, 79.

— the ascetic, 80.

— the leader, 25.
Matangi, y^;;z., interpretation

of, 23, 63, 79, 88.
Makkalu, 24.

— and Komatis, 48.

— displeasure of, 182.

— description of cult, 62-76.

— in legends, 79-89.

— the female warrior. By.
Matriarchate, 73.

Matris — mothers, 99, 178,

209.
Migrankadatta, 27.
Miraculous power of Nas-

riah, 163.

— of Arunzodi, 54.

— of Vasugi, 58.

— of woman in Coorg, 60.
Mohammed the Third, 87.
Mohammedan, 87, 159, 211.
Mongolian race, 9.
Munsiff, the, office of, 32.

INDEX

319

Munsiff, persecution by,
248-263.

— mother of a, 177.
Mysore district, 48.

Naga, 180.
Nagarpamah, 180.
Narsaravapetta, 160.
Nasriah the reformer, 158-
161.

— sect, 162-165.

— and Christianity, 204.

— discussion on, 194.

Ornaments of women, 189,
191.

— of men, 130.
Oudh, the house of, 18.

Pallavas, the, 18.
Pampa, the lake, 81.
Panchama, 305.
Paramesvvara, 220.
Parasu-Rama, 84.
Parawas, the, 83.
Pariah, 16, 46, S5) 61, 78, 85,

305.
Parvati, 71, -jz^ 83, 89, 106,

214.
Penoocondah, 50.
Perantalu, description of,

99, 100.

— incident of, 179.
Podili Taluk, 38.

Poleramah, 122, 194, 250,

267.
Polygamy, 149.
Polytheism, 5.
Possession, dance of, 65-69,

93,251.
Pothuluri Veerabramham,

117, 135) 222.
Prithivi, 73.
Puja — worship, sacrifice, 97,

142, 181, 225, 239, 281.
Puranas, the, 83, 102, 233.

Rakshasas, the, 19.
Rajah and King Matanga
28.

— visits of, 36.

— grants from, 36, 205.

— taxes levied by, 29, 39.

— of Goomsur, 91-93.

— of Venkatagiri, 205.
Rajayogi [sect, teaching of,

115, 127.

— disciples of, 117, 135,

146, 220.
Rama, prayer to, 118.

— and Jambavan, 18.

— and Savari, 80-82.
Ramanujacarya, 107, 219.
Ramanuja sect, explanation

of, 106-109.

— and Madigas, 116.

— priests of, 116, 219.
Ramaswami, 141, 153.

320

INDEX

Ramayana, the, 17, 80, 82,

233.
Ravana, 19.
Reddis, the, 65.
Re-incarnation, 83, 118.
Reformers, 117, 163.
Rig Veda, 10, 55, T>>'
Rishis, 10.

Sacrifice, 66, 75, 92, loi.

Saivism, 84, 89.

Saktis, the ten great, ^^^ 'jZ^

102, 214.
Saktism in Nasriah sect, 164.

— and Matangi cult, ']'^.

— and Perantalu, 100.

— and Chermanishta sect,

105.
Sanscrit authors, 25, 26.

— academy, 57.

— dictionaries, 56.

— epics, 22, 79, 80.

— dialects, 11.

— learning, 16, 21, 224.
Sanyasi, 162, 168.

Sarai — arrack, 134, 144, 163,

185, 291.
Scythian, 9, -jz, 95-
Sect, Nasriah, 158-166, 194.

— Chermanishta, 103-109,

220, 227.

— Ramanuja, 106, 116, 219.

— Rajayogi, 117, 146, 220.
Serfdom, 39.

Serpent worship, antiquity
of, T},, 180.

and Matangi cult, 73.

and human sacrifice

75.
Shastra, 26, 127.
Sita, 18-20.
Siva, curse of, 29.

— worshipper of, 64, 118,

214, 220.

— consort of, 71, T"})^ 83, 106.

— and Dravidians, 14, 83, 89.
Slavery, 35.

Somadeva Bhatta, 26.
Sudra servant, 34, 37.

— landholder, 39, 208.

— opinion, 7, 122, 153.

— caste, 34, 65.

— and Ellama, 64.

— and Madigas, 40, 207, 248,

303.
Sugriva, 19.
Swami — god, 97, 171, 215,

239-

Talibottu, 189.

Taluk — a small county, 65,

]20, 159.
Tamil, 10, 57.
Tamurdu — younger brother,

213.
Taxes, 29, 39, 303.
Telugu, 10, Zy.
Teutons, the, 74.

INDEX

321

Theism, 5.
Tiruvalluvar, 57.
Tiprantakamu, 158, 165,

193.
Totems, 18.
Trade, 133, 136, 184.
Triamballa, King, 83.
Tribe, institutions of, 32, 307.

— distinctness of, 6, 44.

— records of, 22.

— wars of, 31.

— head of, 17, 21, 30.

Ursa Major, 56.

Valavisu Purana, S3.
Valluvas, the, 16.
Vaishnavism, 84, 89.
Vaishnavite reformers, 107,

219.
Vaisya traders, 34, 50.
Vasishta, 55.
Vasugi, 57-59.
Vellamanu, 13-16.
Venkatagiri, Rajah of, 205.
Venkateswarurdu, 238.
Vijayanagar, 50.
Village community, 31, 210,

302.
Vishnu, consort of, 108.

— worshipper of, 64, 220.

— incarnations of, 116.

Vishnu, idols of, 116, 164.

— and positive evil, 95.

Widowhood enforced, 174.

— and ornaments, 190.

— of caste women, 99.
Woman and gods, 99.

— and forces of nature, 61,

100.

— the Aryan, 18, 59.
Worship of nature, 73, 105.

— of the serpent, 67, 73.

— of trees, 74.

— of demons, 95, 203.

— of matris, 99.

— of Perantalu, 99, 179.

— of Nagarpamah, 181.

— of Sakti, 73y 180.

Yetti, the, and the Rajah,

36.

and the Karnam, 37,

208, 249, 303.
as news-bearers, 147,

171, 173, 263.
as bearers of letters,

37, 205.
Yogi, the, doctrine, 162, 164.

— teachers, 5, 117.

— practice, 120.

Ziegenbalg, B., 7S, 86.

21

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

A STUDY OF

Mary Wollston'ecraft

AND THE

Rights of Woman.

8vo, 234 pp., price "js. 6d.

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of rare and particular knowledge. . . . She never
shrieks ; she always speaks by the book ; she does not
clamour inelegantly; she traces a big historical event
with assurance and self-confidence ; and she never in-
dulges in wild dreams. Her style is careful, forcible,
terse and clear." — Pall Mall Gazette.

London : LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.

Oi

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