Volume 1 / Part 4 — CHAP. II.

AGRICULTURE.—IRRIGATION.—CATTLE AND CROPS.

AGRICULTURE.—Prior to the arrival of the Bengalis, and even for some centuries after the conquest of Wijayo, before the knowledge of agriculture had extended throughout the island, the inhabitants appear to have subsisted to a great extent by the chase.[1] Hunting the elk and the boar was one of the amusements of the early princes; the "Royal Huntsmen" had a range of buildings erected for their residence at Anarajapoora, B.C. 504[2], and the laws of the chase generously forbade to shoot the deer except in flight.[3] Dogs were trained to assist in the sport[4] and the oppressed aborigines, driven by their conquerors to the forests of Rohuna and Maya, are the subjects of frequent commendation in the pages of the Mahawanso, from their singular ability in the use of the bow.[5]

Before the arrival of Wijayo, B.C. 543, agriculture was unknown in Ceylon, and grain, if grown at all, was not systematically cultivated. The Yakkhos, the aborigines, subsisted, as the Veddahs, their lineal descendants, live at the present day, on fruits, honey, and the products of the chase. Rice was distributed by Kuweni to the followers of Wijayo, but it was "rice procured from the wrecked ships of mariners."[l] And two centuries later, so scanty was the production of native grain, that Asoca, amongst the presents which he sent to his ally Devenipiatissa, included "one hundred and sixty loads of hill paddi from Bengal."[2]

A Singhalese narrative of the "Planting of the Bo-tree," an English version of which will be found amongst the translations prepared for Sir Alexander Johnston, mentions the fact, that rice was still imported into Ceylon from the Coromandel coast[1] in the second century before Christ.

Irrigation.—It was to the Hindu kings who succeeded Wijayo, that Ceylon was indebted for the earliest knowledge of agriculture, for the construction of reservoirs, and the practice of irrigation for the cultivation of rice.[1]

The first tank in Ceylon was formed by the successor of Wijayo, B.C. 504, and their subsequent extension to an almost incredible number is ascribable to the influence of the Buddhist religion, which, abhorring the destruction of animal life, taught its multitudinous votaries to subsist exclusively upon vegetable food. Hence the planting of gardens, the diffusion of fruit-trees and leguminous vegetables[1], the sowing of dry grain[2], the formation of reservoirs and canals, and the reclamation of land "in situations favourable for irrigation."

It is impossible to over-estimate the importance of this system of water cultivation, in a country like the north of Ceylon, subject to periodical droughts. From physical and geological causes, the mode of cultivation in that section of the island differs essentially from that practised in the southern division; and whilst in the latter the frequency of the rains and abundance of rivers afford a copious supply of water, the rest of the country is mainly dependent upon artificial irrigation, and on the quantity of rain collected in tanks; or of water diverted from streams and directed into reservoirs.

As has been elsewhere[1] explained, the mountain ranges which tower along the south-western coast, and extend far towards the eastern, serve in both monsoons to intercept the trade winds and condense the vapours with which they are charged, thus ensuring to those regions a plentiful supply of rain. Hence the harvests in those portions of the island are regulated by the two monsoons, the yalla in May and the maha in November; and seed-time is adjusted so as to take advantage of the copious showers which fall at those periods.

But in the northern portions of Ceylon, owing to the absence of mountains, this natural resource cannot be relied on. The winds in both monsoons traverse the island without parting with a sufficiency of moisture; droughts are of frequent occurrence and of long continuance; and vegetation in the low and scarcely undulated plains is mainly dependent on dews and whatever damp is distributed by the steady sea-breeze. In some places the sandy soil rests upon beds of madrepore and coral rock, through which the scanty rain percolates too quickly to refresh the soil; and the husbandman is entirely dependent upon wells and village tanks for the means of irrigation.

In a region exposed to such vicissitudes the risk would have been imminent and incessant, had the population been obliged to rely on supplies of dry grain alone, the growth of which must necessarily have been precarious, owing to the possible failure or deficiency of the rains. Hence frequent famines would have been inevitable in those seasons of prolonged dryness and scorching heat, when "the sky becomes as brass and the earth as iron."

What an unspeakable blessing that against such, calamities a security should have been found by the introduction of a grain calculated to germinate under water; and that a perennial supply of the latter, not only adequate for all ordinary purposes, but sufficient to guard against extraordinary emergencies of the seasons, should have been provided by the ingenuity of the people, aided by the bounteous care of their sovereigns. It is no matter of surprise that the kings who devoted their treasures and their personal energies to the formation of tanks and canals have entitled their memory to traditional veneration, as benefactors of their race and country. In striking contrast, it is the pithy remark of the author of the Rajavali, mourning over the extinction of the Great Dynasty and the decline of the country, that "because the fertility of the land was decreased the kings who followed were no longer of such consequence as those who went before."[1]

Simultaneously with the construction of works for the advancement of agriculture, the patriarchal village system, copied from that which existed from the earliest ages in India[1], was established in the newly settled districts; and each hamlet, with its governing "headman" its artisans, its barber, its astrologer and washerman, was taught to conduct its own affairs by its village council; to repair its tanks and watercourses, and to collect two harvests in each year by the combined labour of the whole village community.

Between the agricultural system of the mountainous districts and that of the lowlands, there was at all times the same difference which still distinguishes the tank cultivation of Neuera-kalawa and the Wanny from the hanging rice lands of the Kandyan hills. In the latter, reservoirs are comparatively rare, as the natives rely on the certainty of the rains, which seldom fail at their due season in those lofty regions. Streams are conducted by means of channels ingeniously carried round the spurs of the hills and along the face of acclivities, so as to fertilise the fields below, which in the technical phrase of the Kandyans are "assoedamised" for the purpose; that is, formed into terraces, each protected by a shallow ledge over which the superfluous water trickles, from the highest level into that immediately below it; thus descending through all in succession till it escapes in the depths of the valley.

For the tillage of the lands with which the temples were so largely endowed in all quarters of the island, the sacred communities had assigned to them certain villages, a portion of whose labour was the property of the wihara[1]: slaves were also appropriated to them, and an instance is mentioned in the fifth century[2], of the inhabitants of a low-caste village having been bestowed on a monastery by the king Aggrabodhi, "in order that the priests might derive their service as slaves."[3] Sharing in a prerogative of royalty, some of the temples had, moreover, a right to the compulsory labour of the community; and in one of the inscriptions carved on the rock at Mihintala, the "Raja-kariya writer" is enumerated in the list of temple officers.[4] The temple lands were occasionally let to tenants whose rent was paid either in "land-fees," or in kind.[5]

Farm-stock.—The only farm-stock which appears to have been kept for tillage purposes, were buffaloes, which, then as now, were used in treading the soft mud of the irrigated rice-fields, preparatory to casting in the seed. Cows are alluded to in the Mahawanso, but never in connection with labour; and although butter is spoken of, it is only that of the buffalo.[1]

Gardens.—Probably the earliest enclosures attempted in a state of incipient civilisation, were gardens for the exclusion of wild animals from fruit trees and vegetables, when these were first cultivated for the use of man; and to the present day, the frequent occurrence of the termination "watte" in the names of places on the map of Ceylon, is in itself an indication of the importance attached to them by the villagers. The term "garden," however, conveys to an European but an imperfect idea of the character and style of these places; which in Ceylon are so similar to the native gardens in the south of India, as to suggest a community of origin. Their leading features are lines of the graceful areca palms, groves of oranges, limes, jak-trees, and bread fruit; and irregular clumps of palmyras and coconuts. Beneath these, there is a minor growth, sometimes of cinnamon or coffee bushes; and always a wilderness of plaintains, guavas and papaws; a few of the commoner flowers; plots of brinjals (egg plants) and other esculents; and the stems of the standard trees are festooned with climbers, pepper vines, tomatas, and betel.

The Coco-nut Palm.—It is curious and suggestive as regards the coco-nut, which now enters so largely into the domestic economy of the Singhalese, that although it is sometimes spoken of in the Mahawanso (but by no means so often as the palmyra), no allusion is ever made to it as an article of diet, or an element in the preparation of food, nor is it mentioned, before the reign of Prakrama I., A.D. 1153[1], in the list of those fruit-trees, the planting of which throughout the island is repeatedly recorded, as amongst the munificent acts of the Singhalese kings.

As the other species of the same genus of palms are confined to the New World[1], a doubt has been raised whether the coco-nut be indigenous in India, or an importation. If the latter, the first plant must have been introduced anterior to the historic age; and whatever the period at which the tree may have been first cultivated, a time is indicated when it was practically unknown in Ceylon by the fact, that a statue, without date or inscription, is carved in high relief in a niche hollowed out of a rock to the east of Galle, which tradition says is the monument to the Kustia Raja, an Indian prince, whose claim to remembrance is, that he first taught the Singhalese the use of the coco-nut.[2]

The mango, the jambo, and several other fruits are particularised, but the historical books make no mention either of the pine-apple or the plantain, which appear to have been of comparatively recent introduction. Pulse is alluded to at an early date under the generic designation of "Masá."[1]

Rice and Curry.—Rice in various forms is always spoken of as the food, alike of the sovereign, the priests, and the people; rice prepared plainly, conjee (the water in which rice is boiled), "rice mixed with sugar and honey, and rice dressed with clarified butter."[1] Chillies are now and then mentioned as an additional condiment.[2] The Rajavali speaks of curry in the second century before Christ[3] and the Mahawanso in the fifth century after.[4]

Although the taking of life is sternly forbidden in the ethical code of Buddha, and the most prominent of the obligations undertaken by the priesthood is directed to its preservation even in the instances of insects and animalculæ, casuistry succeeded so far as to fix the crime on the slayer, and to exonerate the individual who merely partook of the flesh.[1] Even the inmates of the wiharas and monasteries discovered devices for the saving of conscience, and curried rice was not rejected in consequence of the animal ingredients incorporated with it. The mass of the population were nevertheless vegetarians, and so little value did they place on animal food, that according to the accounts furnished to EDRISI by the Arabian seamen returning from Ceylon, "a sheep sufficient to regale an assembly was to be bought there for half a drachm."[2]

Betel—In connection with a diet so largely composed of vegetable food, arose the custom, which to the present day is universal in Ceylon,—of chewing the leaves of the betel vine, accompanied with lime and the sliced nut of the areca palm.[1] The betel (piper betel), which is now universally cultivated for this purpose, is presumed to have been introduced from some tropical island, as it has nowhere been found indigenous in continental India.[2] In Ceylon, its use is mentioned as early as the fifth century before Christ, when "betel leaves" formed the present sent by a princess to her lover.[3] In a conflict of Dutugaimunu with the Malabars, B.C. 161, the enemy seeing on his lips the red stain of the betel, mistook it for blood, and spread the false cry that the king had been slain.[4]

Intoxicating liquors are of sufficient antiquity to be denounced in the moral system of Buddhism. The use of toddy and drinks obtained from the fermentation of "bread and flour" is condemned in the laity, and strictly prohibited to the priesthood[1]; but the Arabian geographers mention that in the twelfth century, wine, in defiance of the prohibition, was imported from Persia, and drank by the Singhalese after being flavoured with cardamoms.[2]