CHITTOOR in 1850's

Do  you like to know what Chitoor was like in 1854(150 years back). Then read this from the book “PASSAGES FROM THE JOURNALS OF AN OLD  TRAVELLER.—No. VII.
MEERSCHAUM.” 1854

Chittoor is a considerable civil station, distant about ninety miles from Madras, the seat of a collectorate, and formerly containing a Court of Sessions and Appeal similar to those at Tellicherry, Massulipatam. and Trichinopoly, as also a Zillah court, and two companies of a native infantry regiment detached from the military cantonment at Vellore. The ordinary route followed by travellers coming to and returning from Chittoor to Madras is through Arcot, the nearest cavalry station to Madras.

Few up-country stations can boast of so many commodious dwellinghouses as Chittoor contains, and but very few can rival its gardens. The Arcot mango is known to be the largest in the world, but as to flavour nothing can compete with the Chittoor raspberry mango; 


some of the houses were inconveniently large, and consisted of three wings, each separate wing being sufficient in itself to accommodate an ordinary family, and many of them were extremely ancient . One of these, which was occupied by the Zillah judge's family, had an immense organ set up in one of the upstair-rooms of a deserted and ruinous wing: how long it had been there, or how many years had elapsed since it had played its last tune, none of the oldest inhabitants could divine; the cylinders appeared to be in pretty good condition, though perfectly smothered with dust; but vainly have we pumped away at the bellows till our arms were fit to drop, in the hopes of eliciting some faint note of music: the only sound it ever made was when a strong breeze of wind got into the many cracks and crevices in the woodwork, and then it would groan away gloomily like some huge JEolian harp dismally out of tune.

But in India, where everyone keeps a dozen servants, besides one or two sets of palanquin-bearers,—and in addition to this the civilians have a posse of peons or policemen—too much room in a house is seldom the complaint; the greatest fault to be found with the Chittoor houses was the distance placed between them and the outhouses, the kitchen being so far off that the dinner nearly got cold before it was placed on the table. In rainy weather the soup would make its appearance borne in the hands of the dubash, or head servant, and carefully escorted by a couple of peons, holding extensive Indian chutteries, or umbrellas, over it, to keep off the heavy showers of rain.

Every house in Chittoor is surrounded by a large compound full of fruit trees, so thickly set as to afford a pleasant shade during all hours of the day, and affording shelter to legions of noisy squirrels and screaming parroquets, both declared enemies of the gardener, and destroying bushels of fruit, despite every precaution in the shape of scarecrows, traps, &c. Every compound has a space of ground allotted to the cultivation of vegetables, and some of these kitchen-gardens produce abundant supplies. Flowers flourish luxuriantly, and a great number of exotics succeed perfectly when tended with care and attention. There is no lack of water, every compound boasting three or four tanks, each tank being furnished with a pacottah for irrigating the ground.

In the garden attached to the house that we inhabited there grew two peach trees, a great rarity in India, but though they blossomed and the young fruit set, they never came to maturity.

The climate of Chittoor is considered very healthy, and it is almost entirely free of those hot land winds so relaxing to the constitution, and so prevalent in India. This wind is excluded by the high hills in the neighbourhood; and though the days are often very sultry, the sea-breeze generally sets in in the afternoon, and the nights are seldom oppressively hot. The drives and rides in the neighbourhood are numerous and agreeable, and the roads kept in excellent condition by the native criminals, who are daily set to work on some public improvement. The longest and most picturesque drive at Chittoor is the one that conducts you right round a long range of high hills in the very centre of the town, called the Chetah hills, from the fact of chetahs being continually shot or ensnared in that neighbourhood.

We often saw these beautiful, but savage, creatures in our afternoon's drive, high up above us on the craggy points of the hills, jumping from ledge to ledge with kitten-like nimbleness, either sporting with their young ones or tormenting some terrified victim. Young chetahs were occasionally hawked about by the natives for sale, and eagerly purchased by young civilians and officers; but though they grow very tame, and follow one about like a dog, they are never to be trusted, and invariably turn out savage in the longrun.

Dumelgundies, or the laughing hyena, are very plentiful in the neighbourhood of Chittoor: we have sometimes, when returning home late at night from a friend's house, encountered a couple of these ugly customers creeping along the hedges in search of a stray goat or a calf, or something of a convenient size to carry off; but though nearly the size of a donkey, they are the greatest cowards in existence, and run away at the slightest noise.


 We were often surprised to find that the horses evinced no fear of these creatures: we had a pony that had such a dislike to them that it was all we could do to prevent him from rushing after them open-mouthed, with all imaginable malice displayed in his viciously-turned-back ears. On one occasion, it was only just getting dusk when we came up with a pair of dumelgundies, slinking stealthily along from bush to bush: as they must have passed us to get up the hill, or else take to a wide open plain, we endeavoured and succeeded in cutting off their retreat, and gave chase with a good strong hunting-whip—our only arms. Away we went helter-skelter, nothing stopped the way: the pony as evidence of uncontrollable delight, kicking his hinder legs up in the air, rather too frequently to be pleasant to the rider. At last driven to desperation, the brutes came to a dead stop, and facing round, gave utterance to one of those doleful, hysterical cries called their laugh. What they would have done there is no saying had we closed with them: the pony, however, never stopped to consider, but, wheeling round with such amazing rapidity that we all but lost our seat, he got the bit in his mouth and ran away with us, terror lending fresh speed to his swiftness, and never stopped till he pulled up of his own accord at the door of our house; whether the dumelgundies gave us chase or not we arc unable to say, as we had enough to do to keep our seat without venturing to look behind us.

We occasionally heard of the havoc committed by these brutes in the surrounding villages, where, besides carrying off goats and sheep, they sometimes made away with an infant.

Poultry had a great many enemies to contend with at Chittoor, wengles,* bandicoots, and snakes were the most formidable amongst these: the partiality of snakes for eggs is very remarkable. We had a great many turkeys at Chittoor, and in the laying seasons the hens were wont to stray in all directions, as they always do, to deposit their eggs.