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The Colas c11: Chapter III. Cōḷas in Early Tamil Literature

The Cōḷas c11

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Chapter III. Cōḷas in Early Tamil Literature

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The earliest Cōḷa kings of whom we have tangible evidence are those mentioned in the Śaṅgam literature. Scholars are now generally agreed that this literature belongs to the first few centuries of the Christian era.¹ The internal chronology of this literature is still far from settled, and this remains at present an insuperable obstacle in the way of giving a connected account of the history of the period. We gather the names of kings and princes, and of the poets who extolled them; we also learn much of uncommon interest about the life and work of the people. Some of the kings, we can see, were men of real distinction, with a good title to fame; and the poets were often great artists who could add beauty to truth in the manner of their expression. In this body of early Tamil literature, the individuals depicted stand out in bold relief and their characteristic traits are most unmistakably revealed to us; it is thus all the greater pity, that we cannot work it into a connected history. We shall see that when the chronology becomes firm, with the Cōḷas of the Vijayālaya line, literature loses its early qualities of realism and strength, and lapses, particularly in the delineation of persons, into the easy devices of court poetry.

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Two names stand out prominently from among those of the Cōḷa kings known to the Śaṅgam literature; and their memory is cherished in song and legend by a loving posterity; they are those of Karikāla and Kōcceṅgaṇān. There is no sure means of settling the order of their succession, of fixing their relations with one another and with many other princes and princelings of about the same period. If Puhār or Kāvirippūmpaṭṭinam rose in importance only in the time of Karikāla,² then the civil strife between the two branches of the Cōḷas, one of them apparently stationed at Uṛaiyūr and the other at Puhār, may be taken to fall in the period subsequent to the rule of Karikāla. In any event, this strife between the rival branches of the royal family appears to have been a constant factor in the annals of the Cōḷas of the Śaṅgam age. Even Karikāla, the most illustrious among them, had his own troubles in the beginning.³

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Before we proceed to discuss the kings of the Śaṅgam Age, some attention may be given to the legends about the mythical Cōḷa kings known to this literature. The Cōḷas were even then looked upon as descended from the sun⁴—a fact that received elaborate emphasis in later times in the long mythical genealogies incorporated in copperplate charters of the tenth and eleventh centuries, in the Kanyākumārī stone inscription of Vīrarājēndra, and in literary works like the *Kaliṅgattupparaṇi* and the *Vikramaśōḻan Ulā*. Coeval with Agastya and Paraśurāma was king Kāntan, whose devotion to the former brought the river Kāvērī into existence,⁵ and who at the bidding of Pārvati (Kanni) entrusted his kingdom for a time to his illegitimate son Kakandan, in order to escape the fury of Paraśurāma, who waged relentless war against all Kṣatriyas.⁶ He ruled from Campā, later called Kākandi, Puhār and Kāvirippūmpaṭṭinam. Another legendary hero was Tūṅgeyil-eṟinda-toḍittōṭ-cembiyan, who destroyed some mysterious flying fortress of the Asuras⁷ and also instituted in Puhār, at the instance of Agastya, an annual festival to Indra of the duration of twenty-eight days.⁸ The story of the king who sentenced his son to death for having killed a calf by rash driving⁹ and that of another who rescued the dove from the hawk, but not the names of Manu and Śibi, are known¹⁰ to this early literature. The king of the bird-story is, however, once called Śembiyan.¹¹ Some of these legends, like the story of the calf and the prince,¹² the origin of the Kāvēri, and the institution of the festival to Indra, are not found in the anthologies of the Śaṅgam, and make their appearance for the first time in the twin epics of the *Śilappadikāram* and the *Maṇimēkalai*.

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Karikāla, the greatest among the Cōḷas of the Śaṅgam age, was the son of Iḷañjēṭcenni distinguished for the beauty of his numerous war-chariots.¹³ Karikālan means 'the man with the charred leg,' and the name perpetuated the memory of a fire-accident in the early years of the prince’s life,¹⁴ in later times, under Sanskritic influences, the name was explained as Death (*Kāla*)

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to ‘*Kali*’ or ‘Death to (enemies’) elephants.’ Karikāla was deprived of his birth-right and confined in a prison by his enemies for some years. The plucky manner in which he effected his escape and established himself in power is a favourite theme with the poets.¹⁵

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‘Like the tiger cub with its sharp claws and its curved stripes growing (strong) within the cage, his strength came to maturity (like wood in grain) while he was in the bondage of his enemies. As the large-trunked elephant pulls down the banks of the pit (in which it has been caught) and effects its escape by filling in the pit, and joins its mate, even so after deep and careful consideration, he drew his sword, effected his escape by overpowering the strong guard (of his prison), and attained his glorious heritage in due course.’

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Again,

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‘This lord, dreaded by his enemies like Murugan’s anger, inherited the throne from his mother’s womb;¹⁶ he forced his enemies to do his behests, and filled with uneasiness the lands of those that did not submit; like the young sun spreading the rays of dawn on the ocean before rising in the sky, so from the day he began to crawl as a baby, he bore on his shoulders his excellent country, and daily increased its prosperity. As the fierce whelp of the lion, proud of its strength greater than that of Death, while it has not yet given up sucking the breast of its dam, quickly kills the elephant in its first hunt for food,’

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so ‘Karikāla-Cōḻa with the garland of *ār* pleasing to the eyes’ fought a great battle at Veṇṇi in which the Pāṇḍya and the Cēra both suffered a crushing defeat.¹⁷ Veṇṇi has been identified with Kōvil Veṇṇi, a village fifteen miles to the east of Tanjore. Though we know very little of the circumstances that led to this battle, there can be no doubt that it marked the turning point in Karikāla’s career; for in this battle he seems to have broken the back of a widespread confederacy formed against him. Besides the two crowned kings of the Pāṇḍya and Cēra countries, eleven minor chieftains took their side in the campaign and shared the defeat at the hands of Karikāla.¹⁸ Much sympathy was felt for the Cēra king, who was wounded at his back, the last disgrace that could befall a soldier on the battlefield, and who expiated his cowardice by committing suicide;¹⁹ this is how one of Karikāla's own friends, the poet Veṇṇikkuyattiyār, possibly a resident of Veṇṇi and an eye-witness to the battle, addresses the monarch:²⁰

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‘Oh! descendant of that warrior who, sailing on the wide ocean, compelled the winds to fill the sails of his ships!²¹ Oh, Karikāl-vaḷava, lord of mighty elephants! By this victory thou hast displayed the greatness of thy valour which faced the fight and carried it to success. Is not he even nobler than thee—he, who, after attaining great celebrity in the world, feels now the shame of a wound in his back, and starves himself to death on the plain of Veṇṇi watered by the freshes (of the Kāvēri)?’

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If Veṇṇi was the first great battle of Karikāla’s reign which established him firmly on his throne and secured for him some sort of hegemony among the ‘three crowned monarchs’ of the Tamil land, there was no lack of other opportunities for the exercise of his arms. He defeated a confederacy of nine minor chieftains in a battle at Vākaipparandalai: Paraṇar, a contemporary both of Karikāla and his father, mentions this fact,²² but tells us nothing of the cause of the battle or of the enemies of Karikāla. The poet of the *Paṭṭinappālai* describes fully the destruction carried by the forces of Karikāla into the territories of his enemies and the awe inspired by his deeds of valour,²³ and adds that as a result of his campaigns, ‘the numerous

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Oḷiyar submitted to him, the ancient Aruvāḷar carried out his commands, the Northerners lost splendour, and the Westerners were depressed; conscious of the might of his large army ready to shatter the fortresses of enemy kings (Karikāla) turned his flushed look of anger against the Pāṇḍya whose strength gave way; the line of low herdsmen was brought to an end, and the family of Irungōvēḷ was uprooted.’ If we disregard the vague statements about Northerners and Westerners in these lines from the *Paṭṭinappālai*, we see that for all his heroism on the battlefield Karikāla’s permanent conquests did not extend much beyond the land of the Kāvēri. The Aruvāḷar were the inhabitants of the Aruvānād which comprised the lower valley of the Peṇṇār, just north of the Kāvērī delta country. The Oḷiyar were perhaps some nomadic tribe of nāga extraction, whom Karikāla converted to a settled life.²⁴ The description of Kāviri-pūmpaṭṭinam and its foreshore, which takes up so much of the *Paṭṭinappālai*, gives a vivid idea of the state of industry and commerce under Karikāla who is said to have promoted the reclamation and settlement of forest land and added to the prosperity of the country by multiplying irrigation tanks.²⁵

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~-EXTENT OF KARIKĀLA'S KINGDOM

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Of Karikāla’s personal life we hear next to nothing. While Uruttiraṅgaṇṇaṉār, the author of the *Paṭṭinappālai*, tells us vaguely that he enjoyed the society of women and children,²⁶ the late annotator Naccinārkkiniyar, possibly reproducing a correct tradition, states that Karikāla took to wife a Vēḷir girl from Nāṅgūr,²⁷ a place celebrated in the poems of Tirumaṅgai Āḻvār for the heroism of its warriors. A daughter of Karikāla, Ādimandi by name, is the subject of many poems. She lost her husband, a Cēra prince, by name Āṭṭan Atti, who was drowned in the Kāvēri, but subsequently, by the power of her chastity, she is said to have brought him back to life.²⁸

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Karikāla’s faith in the Vedic religion and the poignancy of the grief caused by his death find moving expression in the following lines of Karuṅguḻal-Ādanār:²⁹

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‘He who stormed his enemies’ forts dauntlessly; who feasted his minstrels and their families and treated them to endless draughts of toddy; who, in the assembly of Brahmans noted for knowledge of dharma and purity of life, guided by priests learned in their duties and attended by his noble and virtuous queen, performed the vedic sacrifice in which the tall sacrificial post stood on a bird-like platform (*garuḍacayana*), within the sacrificial court surrounded by a high wall with round bastions; he, the great and wise king alas! is no more! Poor indeed is this world which has lost him. Like the branches of the *vēṅgai* tree, which stand bare, when their bright foliage has been cut down by shepherds eager to feed their cattle in the fierce summer, are his fair queens, who have cast off their jewels.’

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From very early times Karikāla became the centre of many myths which, in modern times, have often been accepted as serious history. The *Śilappadikāram* which, with studied fairness attributes to each of the three Tamil monarchies some conspicuous success against northern Aryan kings, gives a glorious account of the northern expedition of Karikāla³⁰ which took him as far as the Himalayas and gained for him the alliance or subjection of the kings of the Vajra, Magadha and Avanti countries. The raising of the flood-banks of the Kāvērī by Karikāla seems to be first mentioned by the Malēpāḍu plates of Puṇyakumāra,³¹ a Telugu-Cōḍa king of the seventh or eighth century. Nothing can be more typical of the manner in which legends grow than the way in which this story mingles with another stream of legend centring round Triṇētra Pallava, and culminates in the celebrated jingle of the late Telugu-Cōḍa plates: *caraṇa-sarōruha vihata-vilōcana-pallava-trilōcana-pramukhākhila-prithivīśvara-kārita-kāvērī-tīra*,³² which has been made the basis of conclusions of the highest importance to the chronology of Early South Indian History. The choice of Karikāla to the Cōḷa throne by a state elephant which was let loose for the purpose from Kaḻumalam and which discovered him at Karūr, and his conquest of Kāñcī and settlement of agrarian colonies in the Toṇḍaimaṇḍalam are other elements in the Karikāla legends that can find no support from the earliest authorities on his reign. It would seem that the Toṇḍai-nāḍ was ruled by Toṇḍaimān Iḷandiraiyan in the days of Karikāla; and there is no satisfactory evidence in support of the suggestion that has been made that this chieftain was the grandson of Karikāla, or, at least, a viceroy appointed by him after his conquest of Kāñcī.³³

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We now pass on to Nalaṅgiḷḷi and his rival Neḍuṅgiḷḷi who, judging from the civil war between them which lasted till the death of Neḍuṅgiḷḷi³⁴ at the Kāriyāṟu, must have belonged to rival branches of the Cōḷa family which ruled with Puhār and Uṟaiyūr for their respective centres. Nalaṅgiḷḷi had a younger brother, Māvaḷattān; and his memory is preserved to us by the poet Tāmappal-kaṇṇanār who, when Māvaḷattān lost his temper in a game of dice and hit him with a die, so rebuked him that later he felt the need for an apology and composed a short poem,³⁵ which is the only relic of this inflammable princeling and his boon-companion, the Brahman poet of Dāmal.³⁶

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The *Maṇimēkalai*³⁷ mentions a great battle at the Kāriyāṟu in which the Pāṇḍya and the Cēra were defeated by a junior prince (Iḷangōn) of the Cōḷa family in the reign of Māvaṇkiḷḷi, also called Neḍumuḍikkiḷḷi and Kiḷḷivaḷayan in this poem. This battle has been identified with the one in which Neḍungiḷḷi met his fate and the civil strife came to an end;³⁸ from this the inference has been drawn that the Iḷangōn of the *Maṇimēkalai* was no other than Nalangiḷḷi, and that Nalangiḷḷi was the younger brother of Neḍumuḍik-kiḷḷi; some writers go further and argue that because Nalangiḷḷi is called Śēṭcenni-Nalangiḷḷi,³⁹ he may be a grandson of Iḷañjēṭcenni, the father of Karikāla, with the result that Neḍumuḍik-kiḷḷi, Nalangiḷḷi, and Māvaḷattān turn out to be three sons of Karikāla. But there is nothing except the name in favour of identifying the two references to the Kāriyāṟu in the *Puṟanānūṟu* and the *Maṇimēkalai*; nothing is known of the circumstances of Neḍungiḷḷi's death at the Kāriyāṟu, a fact which finds only the most casual mention in the colophon to *Puṟam* 47; we are to infer from this that as there was a civil war between Nalangiḷḷi and Neḍungiḷḷi, a fight at the Kāriyāṟu might, by proving fatal to the latter, have closed the strife. On the contrary, the battle of the Kāriyāṟu described, though briefly, yet with considerable vividness, in the *Maṇimēkalai*, appears as a first-class event in the foreign relations of the Cōḷa kingdom, and not as a petty fight incidental to a quarrel among blood relations; and there is no suggestion in the context that the Cēra and the Pāṇḍya were, on that occasion, engaged in aiding one Cōḷa prince against another. The last argument adduced from the name Śēṭcenni-Nalangiḷḷi is not without force, and it appears quite likely that he and Māvaḷattān were the sons of Karikāla.

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Nalangiḷḷi forms the subject of no fewer than fourteen pieces in the *Puṟanānūṟu*, and Kōvūr-Kiḻār, who contributes half the number implies that the king enjoyed, like Karikāla himself, a sort of vague hegemony among the Tamil states, and sings with intelligible exaggeration:⁴⁰

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'As true wealth and happiness are seen to follow in the wake of virtue, so the two umbrellas (of the rivals Pāṇḍya and Cēra) follow thy peerless umbrella which is raised aloft, resplendent in the sky, like the full-moon. Ambitious of fair fame thou wouldst stay nowhere but in thy victorious camp. Thy elephants chafe, whose tusks are blunt with battering the walls of thy enemies' forts. Eager for fight, thy soldiers who wear anklets, make nothing of marching through wide stretches of forests to reach the enemy country. Thy war steeds starting from the Eastern sea stay not till the waves of the Western ocean wash their hoofs; in fine, the kings of the North keep watch with sleepless eyes as they dread the possibility of thy marching against them.'

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The poet who praised his lord with such strident notes was no base sycophant. In striking contrast with the foregoing, is the moving exhortation to peace addressed to the king when he was besieging Uṟaiyūr in order to reduce Neḍuṅgiḷḷi to submission:⁴¹

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'He does not wear the white flower of the palm. He does not wear the garland of the dark-boughed margosa. Thy garland is a wreath of the *ār*, and so is that of him who wages war with thee. If either of you loses the battle, it is your house that loses; in the nature of things, it is impossible that both of you win. Your action, therefore, forebodes no good to your race; this strife will rejoice other kings who, like you, ride on pennoned chariots.'

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This noble advice of the poet would seem to have fallen on deaf ears; for, as we have seen, the epithet *Kāriyāṟṟut-tuñjiya* applied to Neḍuṅgiḷḷi seems to imply that the war came to an end only with his death.

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Nalaṅgiḷḷi, like several other princes of the age, cultivated literature himself, and of the two poems preserved from among his compositions, one takes the form of an uncanny oath in the following terms:⁴²

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'If gently approaching my feet, one prays for a favour, I shall grant him with pleasure my ancient kingdom, nay, I shall give my life for his sake. If, like a

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blind man who stumbles on a tiger sleeping in the open, one is so foolish as to slight my strength and oppose my will, he shall hardly escape with his life. If I do not advance to the fight and cause (my foes) to suffer like the long-stemmed bamboo trampled under foot by a huge elephant, may my garland be crumpled in the wanton embraces of dark-haired harlots, who can never love with a pure heart.'

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That Kāvirip-pūmpaṭṭinam with its extensive trade was in Nalangiḷḷi's possession,⁴³ and that Vedic sacrifices were common in his reign⁴⁴ are facts well attested by our sources. There is a poignant note of melancholy in some of the poems on Nalangiḷḷi⁴⁵ composed by Uṟaiyūr Mudukaṇṇan Śāttanār, and it is not easy to decide if this is due to the poet's own temperament or to the incidents of the civil strife. It would appear that Nalangiḷḷi died at a place called Ilavandigaip-paḷḷi.⁴⁶

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Neḍungiḷḷi, the opponent of Nalangiḷḷi in the civil war, is addressed in two poems by Kōvūr-Kiḻār, the author of the exhortation addressed to both of them to cease from their strife. These poems add a little to our knowledge of the occurrences in the war. One of them mentions that Neḍungiḷḷi was once shut up in Āvūr which, like Uṟaiyūr, was beset by the forces of Nalangiḷḷi. The poem gives a graphic description of the effects of the siege:⁴⁷

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'The male elephants, not led out to bathe with the female herd in the large tanks (outside the fort), nor fed with balls of rice mixed with ghee, chafe at the posts to which they are chained, heave long sighs, and with their trunks rolling on the ground, trumpet loudly like thunder. Children cry for want of milk, the women plait their hair without flowers, the mansions of the city resound with the cries of people wailing for want of water. It is not possible to hold out any more here, thou, master of fleet steeds! If thou wouldst be kind, open the gates (to the enemy) saying, "This is yours;" if thou wouldst be heroic, open the gates and lead thy soldiers out to victory; to be neither the one nor the other, to close the strong gates of the fort, and to shut yourself up in a corner behind the high walls, this, when one thinks of it, is shameful indeed!'

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Neḍuṅgiḷḷi, then, had ambition without courage, and brought much suffering on himself and his subjects by his pusillanimity. Like all cowards, he seems to have lived in constant dread of treachery and foul play. When he was besieged at Uṟaiyūr, a minstrel, Iḷandattan by name, who had entered Uṟaiyūr from the camp of Nalaṅgiḷḷi, was taken to be a spy, and was about to be killed when Kōvūr-Kiḻār put in a successful plea for his life being spared. The short poem is a fine picture of bardic life in the Śaṅgam age.⁴⁸

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‘They fly like birds and traverse many a long and arid route in search of patrons, and with untutored tongue, sing their praise; pleased with what they get they feast their train, eat without saving, give without stinting, and pine only for honour. Such is their living which depends on the free gifts (of patrons). Does this ever hurt others? No, to be sure. Only, they exult in their triumphs over rival bards, and when their rivals' faces are cast down, then do they walk proudly, and are well pleased; they have thus a primacy of their own, not less than persons who, like you, have attained to the rulership of the earth.’

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Close to Nalaṅgiḷḷi and Neḍuṅgiḷḷi in time, because the same poets are found composing poems in their praise, was Kiḷḷivaḷavan who died at Kuḷamuṟṟam. Another Kiḷḷivaḷavan, the subject of a single poem of Kōvūr-Kiḻār,⁴⁹ is said to have died at Kurāp-paḷḷi. It has been suggested that these two kings are identical,⁵⁰ and if that be so, this poem of Kōvūr-Kiḻār composed after the king had captured Karuvūr, depicts a later stage in his Cēra war than another⁵¹ poem by Ālattūr Kiḻār, which describes Karuvūr still in a state of siege. Kiḷḷivaḷavan is celebrated in eighteen songs by ten different minstrels, and himself figures as the author of a poem in praise of his friend Paṇṇan,⁵² the lord of Śiṟukuḍi. He ruled with Uṟaiyūr as his capital.⁵³ ‘This king, who (we may infer) possessed considerable ability, was both brave and generous, but somewhat headstrong. Hence a great deal of good advice is, in a very tactful way, offered to him by the minstrels; and he seems to have been all the better for it.’ The following lines are by Veḷḷaikkuḍi-nākanar,⁵⁴ who was rewarded on the spot by a remission of the arrears due on his lands.

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The pleasant Tamil lands possess
For boundary the ocean wide.
The heaven, where tempests loud sway not,
Upon their brow rests as a crown.
Fertile the soil they till, and wide.
Three kings with mighty hosts this land
Divide; but of the three; whose drums
Sound for the battle’s angry strife,
Thou art the chief, O mighty one!
Though the resplendent sun in diverse quarters rise;
And though the silvery planet to the south decline;
Thy land shall flourish, where through channels deep,
Kāvēri flows with bright refreshing stream,
Along whose banks the sweet cane’s white flowers wave
Like pennon’d spears uprising from the plain.
Let me speak out to this rich country’s king!
Be easy of access at fitting time, as though
The lord of justice sat to hear, and right decree.
Such kings have rain on their dominions at their will!
The clouds thick gather round the sun, and rest
In vault of heaven:—So let thy canopy
Of state challenge the sky, and spread around
Not gloom, but peaceful shade. Let all thy victories
Be the toiling ploughman’s gain.
Kings get the blame, whether rains fail, or copious flow,
And lack the praise: such is the usage of the world.
If thou hast marked and known this well,
Reject the wily counsels of malicious men.
Lighten the load of those who till the soil.
The dwellers in the land protect. If thou do this
Thy stubborn foes shall lowly bend beneath thy feet.

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The siege and capture of Karūr, the Cēra capital, was, doubtless, the greatest military achievement of this king, and has called forth a number of poems. Thus Ālattūr Kiḻār made an effort to divert the king’s attention from his enterprise and save Karūr from destruction, by gently reproaching him with pitting himself against a foe unworthy of his mettle⁵⁵:—

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Whether thou wilt destroy or wilt release,
’Tis thine to ponder which befits thy name!—
The axe, bright-edged, long-handled, sharp by file
Of smith black-handed, smites the fragrant boughs

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Of guardian trees in every park around;
They crashing fall and scatter the white sands
Of Ān-poruntham's river cool, where sport
The damsels with their golden bracelets gay;
Thro' town, and all the guarded hall are echoes heard,
And yet their king in pleasure slumbers on!
With bow-armed host, thy war-drum sounding loud,
'Twill shame thee to have fought such feeble foes.

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'The intercession was unsuccessful; the fair city fell'; and a poetess, Mārōkkattu Nappaśalaiyār, gave expression to her grief as follows:⁵⁶

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Thou scion of the Cōḷa Lord who saved
The dove from woe,—Chief of the wrathful hosts,
Armed with the gleaming darts that work havoc,
As when a fiery dragon, angry, fierce,—
Bearing five heads, with gleaming poisonous tooth,
Has enter'd the vast mountain-cavern, where
The golden creepers twine;—and from the sky
Fire issues forth and loudest thunderbolt;—
Thou saw'st the lordly city old, whose king
Was circled round by girded elephants.
There in dark deep moat alligators congregate.
In the wide waters of the guarded lake
Are crocodiles that fierce in fight
Dart forth to catch the shadows cast
By gleam of watchman's torch at midnight hour.
Its walls like burnish'd copper shone.
This seemed not fair to thine eyes; for thou didst
Work destruction mightily, glorious king!

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'The delicate lyric warning against arrogance' addressed to the proud conqueror by Mūlam-kiḷār of Āvūr must have been composed soon after the capitulation of Karuvūr:⁵⁷

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'Thou art the mighty one, who sparing not the guarded fort broke thro' and slew its king and made the yellow gold, erewhile his crown, anklets to grace, O! hero! thy conquering foot.

Thy land is so fertile that a tiny piece thereof, where a she-elephant might rest, can nourish seven lordly elephants.

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That we may ever see, as now, the necks of thy traducers bend, and those who laud thee raise their heads, be thou, great king! pleasant of speech, and easy of access.'

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Kōvūr-Kiḻār also described this event at some length in a poem that has not been preserved in its entirety.⁵⁸

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The poems of the *Puranānūṟu* are silent on the relations between Kiḷḷivaḷavan and his southern neighbour the Pāṇḍya; but a poem of Nakkīrar⁵⁹ in the *Ahanānūṟu* makes pointed reference to a defeat sustained by the forces of a Kiḷḷivaḷavan under the walls of Madura at the hands of the Pāṇḍya commander-in-chief, Paḻaiyan Māṟan. In the absence of any indication to the contrary, we may assume that the king whose defeat is alluded to by Nakkīrar was the one that died at Kuḷamuṟṟam.⁶⁰ Kiḷḷivaḷavan evidently waged war in another direction against the Malaiyamān chieftain of Malāḍu, a district on the banks of the Peṇṇār which had Tirukkōyilūr for its centre. Though we cannot be quite certain of it, the Malaiyamān against whom this expedition was directed seems to have been Malaiyamān Tirumuḍik-kāri, who is celebrated in several poems of the *Puṟam* by Kapilar and Mārōkkattu Nappaśalaiyār for the liberal patronage he extended to the minstrels, a trait which is emphasised also by Kōvūr-Kiḻār in the following poem by which he succeeded in releasing the children of the Malaiyamān from a cruel death to which the victorious Cōḷa monarch had condemned them:⁶¹

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'Thou art of the royal line of him who saved the dove from affliction and many another sufferer;

These are children of the race that, in their concern for the learned, share their food with them and save them from want, and under whose fostering care men lead happy lives;

See these little innocents, how first they stood fearing the sight of thine elephants; then, forgetting that, were daunted by the aspect of thy hall; and now stand trembling with troubles ever new!

Hear me, and then follow the promptings of thine own desire!'

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A panegyric by Mārōkkattu Nappaśalaiyār applauds in equal measure and with much art the generosity, justice and heroism of this king.⁶²

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'Descendant of him who to save a dove from grief entered the balance whose beam was tipped with the carved white tusk of the heavy-footed elephant! Giving in grace was born with thee, and is not thy peculiar praise.

And, when one ponders how thy sires of old destroyed the mighty fort suspended in the sky which foes dreaded to approach,---to slay thy foes is not thy peculiar praise!

And since the council of Uṟaiyūr, impregnable city of the valiant Sōḻar, is the home of Equity,---Justice is not thy peculiar praise!

O Vaḷavan, swift horseman, whose stout arms are like fortress-bars, whose wreath attracts every eye, how then shall I sing thy praises?

How shall I tell of thy glorious prowess that withered the fadeless Vañji, destroying the Cēran king with his mighty chariot cunningly wrought, who planted his guarded bow-banner on the immeasurably lofty gold-tipped peaks of Himalaya.'

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Two short odes on the death of the king, though they reveal nothing of the identity of Kuḷamuṟṟam where he died or of the circumstances attending his death, are noteworthy for the quaintness of their conceits. One of them is by the gifted poetess, Mārōkkattu Nappaśalai:⁶³

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If in his mind against thee he were wroth,
Or if in outward act he showed his rage,
Or if he touched thee with afflictive hand,
Thou couldst not have escaped, O Death!
Thou took'st great Vaḷavan, entreating him,
Like minstrels, bowing low, with suppliant hand,
Praising, thou didst bear off his life,
Leader of hosts that crowd the glorious field,
Crowned with gold wreath, Lord of the mighty car!

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The other, by Māsāttanār of Āḍutuṟai, though somewhat commonplace, as observed by Dr. Pope, still does not lack power:⁶⁴

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Death! Right silly art thou, ruthless one:
Through lack of sense thou eat'st thine own seed-corn!
Thou yet shalt see the truth of what I say.
Warriors with gleaming swords, and elephant and horse
Fell on the battle-plain that flowed with blood;
Daily he was insatiate, slew his foes,
And fed thine hunger! Like thyself a strength
He had that knew no ruth nor vengeance feared.
This Vaḷavan who wore great golden ornaments,
Whose flowery garland swarmed with humming bees,
Since thou hast borne away,—who shall appease thine hunger now?

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Another renowned Cōḷa king of the time was Kōpperuñjōḻan who also ruled from Uṟaiyūr. Himself a poet,⁶⁵ he was an intimate friend of two poets—Āndaiyār of (Irum) Piśir and Pottiyār. Āndai (owl) sounds more like a nickname than a name proper;⁶⁶ but the poet is not known by any other name. He was a native of the Pāṇḍya country and gave some good counsel⁶⁷ to the king of that country, Aṟivuḍai Nambi. Pottiyār was a native of the Cōḷa country and resided at Uṟaiyūr. The intimate friendship between these and Kōpperuñjōḻan became a classic example in later literature⁶⁸ like that between Damon and Pythias. Āndai was a jolly good fellow and his poems ring with the true enjoyment of life. Asked once why, though old, his hair had not turned grey, he gave the answer:⁶⁹

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My years are many, yet my locks not grey:
You ask the reason why, 'tis simply this
I have a worthy wife, and children too;
My servants move obedient to my will;
My king does me no evil, aye protects;
To crown the whole, around me dwell good men
And true, of chastened souls with knowledge filled.

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Here is another poem evincing the attachment felt by him to Kōpperuñjōḻan, in preference to the king of his native land:⁷⁰

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'If you ask us 'who is your king?' Our king is he who
To the labourers gives strong palm-wine strained and
[mellow,
And with the fat of turtle satiates their desire,
And fills their mouths with lampreys' rich roast flesh.
They leave short toil for feast; the feast prolong!
In that good fertile land the minstrels with their kin
Find our king the foe of want and hunger's pangs.
He is the lord of Kōḻi, the mighty Cōḻa king.
He loves converse with Potti, whose friendship knows
[no flaw.⁷¹
All the day long he laughs with heart right glad!

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A beautiful poem⁷² by Pullāṟṟūr Eyiṟṟiyanār which deprecates civil strife by a fine appeal to the simple parental emotions of the king is the sole relic left to us of what was possibly a serious quarrel between Kōpperuñjōḻan and his two sons. By a strange irony of fate, this winsome monarch, who engaged the deepest affection of two poets for life and in death, was unable to compose his differences with his own children. His agnostic utterance on suicide is perhaps sufficient proof that he found in it his last refuge from the troubles of life:⁷³

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They who have not assured their minds
By the doubt-free vision pure, that aye endures,
Say not, 'shall we do good deeds or shall we not.'
Who hunts an elephant may gain an elephant;
Who hunts a quail, may come back with empty hand.
Therefore if men have lofty aspirations,
They must carry them out in successful deeds, and so gain
Enjoyment of the world beyond the reach of sense.
Should this not be theirs, in some future birth they may
[win release.
And if there be no future birth,—yet to found
Their fame on earth like Himalaya's lofty peak,
And to pass away with body unstained by evil,
Is surely asceticism's highest gain.

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Two other short poems⁷⁴ express the king's eagerness to meet Āndai before the end came, as also his quiet confidence that his friend would not fail him. When Āndai turned up in good time and joined the king in his resolve to quit the wicked world, Pottiyār evinced⁷⁵ great admiration for the nobility of the king and the wisdom of Āndai, and the deepest concern for the country which was losing a monarch whose great qualities captivated the mind of Āndai, though he owed him no allegiance. Two short pieces⁷⁶ commemorate the suicide of Āndai in the king’s company: One of them records that Āndai starved himself to death under the shade of a tree in the river-bed. When Pottiyār wanted to follow, the king forbade him asking him to postpone his suicide till after his son had been born,⁷⁷ and Pottiyār had to go back. In the following lines the poet gave vent to his feelings as he returned to Uṛaiyūr:⁷⁸

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The keeper who has lost the huge elephant which he
[daily supplied
With its ample meal, and tended for many a year,
Is sad as he surveys the vacant pillar where it stood,
And weeps. Even so, did I not grieve when I beheld
The courtyard in the ancient town where Kiḷḷi lived and
[died;
Kiḷḷi, with wealth of chariots, o’er which waves the
[conqueror’s wreath?

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When, a little later, he visited the spot of the king’s death, marked by a stone (*naḍukal*), he was greatly moved by the recollection of his noble traits.⁷⁹

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He had the praises manifold of minstrels whose wants he
[relieved;
He was most loving to the dancers who resorted to his
[court;
He swayed his sceptre in accordance with the teaching
[of the sages;
His friendship had the firmness honoured of the wise;
He was gentle to women, brave in the face of the strong;
He was the refuge of the spotless learned ones.
Such an one death did not spare, but carried off his
[sweet soul.
Therefore, my afflicted kinsfolk, let us
Embracing one another join in reviling death.
Come, all ye bards, whose words are true!
He hath become a pillar planted in the wild,
Crowned with imperishable praise!
While the wide world in sorrow mourns.
Such is the lot of him who was our protector!

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Perunaṟkiḷḷi must have been a powerful monarch, as he is the only one among the Tamil sovereigns of the Śaṅgam age who performed the *Rājasūya*: it is likely that the Cēra Māri Veṇkō and the Pāṇḍya Ugrapperuvaḷudi both attended this great inauguration of Perunaṟkiḷḷi's rule, and that the fine benediction of Auvaiyār in which she includes all the three was, as suggested by Kanakasabhai, pronounced on this occasion:⁸⁰

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'This heavenlike country with its divisions, whether it is yours or is owned by others who do not go with you but are against you, belongs in truth to the saintly; may you, in your lifetime, pour out with water flowers and gold into the outstretched hands of the Brahmans; drink of the sweet liquor which your servant maids glittering with jewels hold before you in golden cups, and in your exultation, bestow costly gifts without limit on the needy; only the good deeds that you do now will stand by you at the time of your death. Ye monarchs! (lords) of the white umbrella and the pennoned chariot! Seated together, you appear like the three sacred fires which the twice-born preserve day and night with ceaseless vigilance. Only this can I say: may your days be as many as the stars in the sky or the rain-drops in heavy showers.'

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Nothing is known of the events of this king's reign. That he had his share of fighting, we may, however, infer from a poem which gives a rather conventional description of the havoc wrought on enemy countries by his forces,⁸¹ and from the colophon to another poem which mentions a fight between this king and a Cēra Māndarañ-jēral-irumpoṟai, in which the chieftain Tērvaṇmalaiyan fought on the side of the Cōḷa king. Neither the friend nor the foe⁸² of the Cōḷa on this occasion could now be ascertained.

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Before giving an account of Kōccengaṇān who was doubtless among the latest, if not the last, of the Cōḷas mentioned in Śaṅgam literature, the minor celebrities of the Cōḷa line may be briefly noticed. It is certain that many of them were petty princelings, members of the ruling family rather than kings themselves. There are two princes of the name Iḷañjēṭcenni, distinguished by the epithets Neydalangānal and Śeruppāḻi-yeṟinda, both of them celebrated by Ūn-podipaśunguḍaiyār, a poet otherwise unknown. The first is said to have distinguished himself by the capture of Pāmuḷūr, a Cēra fortress;⁸³ how he earned the prefix to his name, Neydalangānal, is not known. Śeruppāḻi, overthrown by the second prince, is also only a name. The Cōḷa Muḍittalaik-kōpperunaṟkiḷḷi (the great good Kiḷḷi, the king with the crowned head) is remembered by a single poem of Muḍamōśiyār (Mōśi, the Lame), who lived in the part of Uṟaiyūr known as Ēṇiccēri. The poem⁸⁴ is a fine piece giving expression to the poet's grave concern for the safety of the Cōḷa who was riding an elephant, which, having suddenly turned mad, was carrying him past Karuvūr. The poet was then in the company of a Cēra prince, and explained to him what was happening before their eyes. The rushing elephant is picturesquely compared to a ship sailing on the high sea.

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Perum Tirumāvaḷavan,⁸⁵ who died at Kuṟāppaḷḷi, was the contemporary and ally of the Pāṇḍya Peruvaḷudi who died at Veḷḷi-yambalam. Kārik-kaṇṇanār of Kāyirip-pūm-paṭṭinam while applauding their alliance, warns them against evil counsellors ever intent on dividing them:⁸⁶

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'Thou art the Lord of the Kāviri and its cool waters; this king is the lion of the warlike race of Pañcavas, who, not disheartened by the death of his elders, valiantly protects his good subjects, like the long shoots of the shady banyan tree, which strike root in the ground and keep the tree alive though the parent trunk is withered; and who, though young, has speedily scattered his enemies like the thunderbolt which smites whole broods of serpents. Thou art the warrior of Uṟandai, where virtue abides; this king, thinking that paddy and water are cheap, has made himself Lord of the mountain sandal and the sea pearl together with the thundering drums, and rules with mercy Kūḍal, the seat of Tamil (learning). Majestic like the two gods standing together, one of whom is white (in complexion) and holds the palm-flag and the other of dark hue carries the wheel, you are now both terrible to your enemies. Is there anything pleasanter than this? Listen, yet, (to my words). May your fame last for ever! May you stand by each other, and if you

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do not break your friendship, you would not fail to conquer the whole of this sea-girt earth. Therefore, without giving heed to the specious words of thoughtless people which, though they appear good and wise and in keeping with ancient tradition, are intended to break the love that binds your hearts, may your friendship continue exactly as it is to-day! May your lances rise victorious on the bloody field of battle! May the lands of your enemies bear on the peaks of their mountains the crests of the striped tiger and the water carp.'

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Tiru-māvaḷavan had the misfortune of being pilloried in song by an irate poet who was kept waiting too long for a gift. In a song of great power and beauty,⁸⁷ the angry bard proudly declares that his race has a greater regard for the poverty of small discerning chieftains than for the vain pomp of heartless monarchs.

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Vēr-pahraḍakkai-peru-viṟar (nar)k-kiḷḷi is the name of another Cōḷa prince celebrated by Paraṇar and Kaḻāttalaiyār, of the age of Karikāla and his father. Three poems⁸⁸ in the *Puṟanānūṟu* describe the sad fate of this prince and his Cēra opponent Kuḍakkō Neḍuñjēral-Ādan, both of whom fell on the field of battle. Another prince with a strongly marked individuality was Pōrvaik-kōpperunaṟk-kiḷḷi who figures in half a dozen compositions, three of which are short lyrics composed by Nakkaṇṇai,⁸⁹ a lady who appears to have loved this erratic prince with a real passion. Śāttandaiyār, the poet of the remaining three pieces,⁹⁰ celebrates the prince's power as a pugilist and his quickness in taking cities. He also suggests that no love was lost between him and Tittan, who is said to have been his father, and who figures in several poems⁹¹ in the anthologies as a celebrated king of Uṟaiyūr. Tittan once forced the chieftain Kaṭṭi and his companion Pāṇan to fall back in disorder after a hasty advance on Uṟaiyūr.⁹² As this incident is recorded by Paraṇar, Tittan and his eccentric son must have preceded Karikāla. Tittan had also a daughter Aiyai.⁹³ Sōlan Nalluruttiran and Nambi Neḍuñjeḷiyan are represented each by a single poem. The former was a poet himself, and in fact we have no knowledge of him except as an author. A whole section on *Mullai*, comprising seventeen songs in the anthology called *Kalittogai*, is said to be his work, and in a short poem in the *Puṟanānūṟu*⁹⁴ he sings his ideal of a felicitous life: to shun misers and seek the company of strong and noble friends. Nambi Neḍuñjeḻiyan forms the subject of a fine eulogium⁹⁵ from Pēreyil Muṟuvalār (the Laughing Man of the Big Fortress), a poem, remarkable for its fine array of short sentences and its vivid portraits.

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The life of Kōccengaṇān, like that of Karikāla, came to gather a haze of legend round itself; and it is necessary to avoid mixing up facts drawn from contemporary sources with the beliefs of later times. A song in the *Puṟanānūṟu*⁹⁶ and the forty verses that constitute the poem *Kaḷavaḻi* by Poygaiyār form the earliest evidence on this king's life. The references to him in the hymns of Tiruñānasambandar and Tirumangai Āḻvār as well as Sundaramūrti take us to the next stage in which the emphasis falls on the religious side of the king's life. He figures also in the legendary genealogy of the Cōḷa copper-plates of the tenth and eleventh centuries though his place in the list is not the same in all.⁹⁷ It is worth noting that the story which, after the manner of the Jātaka tales of Buddhism, makes a spider of this king in his previous birth is first noticed by Appar and repeated by the Tiruvālangāḍu plates⁹⁸ of the reign of Rājēndra Cōḷa. The *Kalingattupparaṇi* and the *Vikramaśōḻan-ulā* more or less agree with the copper-plates, but the main stream of legend flows through the *Andādi* of Nambi-Āṇḍār-Nambi to the *Periya Purāṇam* of Sēkkiḻār, the ocean in which all the streams of Śaivite legend mingle in the Tamil country.

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The *Kaḷavaḻi*⁹⁹ is a poem of moderate length, giving a somewhat conventional, though occasionally gruesome, description of the battle of Kaḻumalam, near Karuvūr in the Kongu country,¹⁰⁰ in which Śengaṇān defeated and made captive the Cēra king Kaṇaikkāl Irumporai. The poet Poygai, a friend of the Cēra, placated the Cōḷa conqueror by singing of his valour in the battle-field and thereby secured the release of the Cēra from captivity. The verse in the *Puṟanānūṟu* to which reference has already been made purports to have been composed by the Cēra, while still in captivity in the Cōḷa prison at Kuḍavāyiṟkōṭṭam (West Gate Prison), and forms a sad confession of his cowardice in surviving the disgrace that had befallen him:

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'Even a babe that dies, and a mole that is born though they are not men, are still put to the sword.¹⁰¹ Can it be, that such a race gives birth to one who, subjected to misery like a dog held in leash, yet begs for water from his unkindly jailors, and drinks it, in his weakness, to allay the fire in his stomach?'

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The story is that he declined to drink the water he had so obtained, and slept away his thirst.¹⁰² Poygai's successful intercession must have taken place soon after. So far the evidence of contemporary literature. There seems to be nothing incredible in the situation thus depicted. No deep-seated grounds of public policy governed the actions of kings and chieftains in those days, and the relations among them were more or less personal. Nothing seems more natural in such a state of things than for a prince, who fell short of the heroic ideal cherished by his age and who pined in captivity, to obtain his release owing to the intercession of a clever bard who made a subtle appeal to the vanity of the victor by celebrating his success in very glowing terms.¹⁰³

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Though we have no contemporary evidence bearing on Kōccengaṇān's religious persuasion, there seems to be little reason to doubt that Tirumangai and Sambandar represent a correct tradition about him in their allusions to his religious zeal. And the probable identity of Poygaiyār of the *Kaḷavaḷi* with the Āḻvār of the same name strengthens this supposition.¹⁰⁴ Tirumangai-Āḻvār in one of his hymns on Tirunaṟaiyūr¹⁰⁵ makes the achievements of Kōccengaṇān and his worship at Tirunaṟaiyūr the refrain of his song. Here is no room for doubting that the Āḻvār was thinking of the great Cōḷa king distinguished for heroism on the field of battle as the Śaiva devotee who was reputed to have constructed seventy beautiful shrines to Śiva, besides offering worship to Viṣṇu in Tirunaṟaiyūr. His pointed mention of the elephant corps of Śengaṇān's enemy, the cavalry of Śengaṇān himself and the part it played in his wars¹⁰⁶ is an important link which establishes a connection with the *Kaḷavaḷi*, which in like manner states repeatedly that the success of the Cōḷa king against the Cēra elephants was primarily due to the infantry and cavalry in his army. Tirumangai also implies that Śengaṇān's sway extended far outside the Cōḷa country,¹⁰⁷ that he fought at Ālunda and Veṇṇi, and that he killed in fight a chieftain Viḷandai Vēḷ. In the hymns of Ñānasambandar and Sundaramūrti the great temples to Śiva at Ambar, Vaigal, and Nannilam are definitely said to have been founded by Śengaṇān. The Anbil plates¹⁰⁸ of Sundara Cōḷa state generally that Kōccegaṇān built temples to Gaurīśa all over the country, while the Tiruvālaṅgāḍu plates, as we have seen, hint at the spider story. The Anbil plates give the name of Śengaṇān's son, Nallaḍikkōn. It is not till we get to the *Periya Purāṇam* that the king gets transformed out of recognition and figures as the son of Śubhadēva and Kamalavati, and the founder of Jambukēśvara. That Śēkkiḻār's account includes the absurd story of the birth of Śengaṇān being delayed by artificial means in order to ensure its taking place at an auspicious moment, is clear proof that we have here a highly embellished account of things long since forgotten. The name Śengaṇān, his birth in the Cōḷa family and the foundation of numerous Śiva temples besides the Jambukēśvara are the only elements in Śēkkiḻār's narration which indicate the ultimate identity of the Nāyanār.

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Before this straggling notice the early Cōḷas is brought to a close, some attempt must be made to fix their age a little more precisely than has been done up to this point. One thing is clear, that these kings are anterior to the earliest time to which we are taken by the existing monuments of the historical period. Though the names of Uraiyūr and Kāvērippaṭṭinam still survive, nothing has been discovered yet in these places that furnishes even a trace of their former greatness.¹⁰⁹ We are left only with the evidence of literature and synchronisms with the history of neighbouring lands. When the suggestion was first made that Gajabāhu, the king of Ceylon, who was the contemporary of the Cēra Śenguṭṭuvan, was no other than Gajabāhu I of the *Mahāvamsa*, who ruled from A.D. 113 to 135, Dr. Hultzsch entered a caveat, saying:¹¹⁰ 'With due respect to Mr. Kumaraswami's sagacity, I am not prepared to accept this view, unless the identity of the two Gajabāhus is not only supported by the mere identity of name, but proved by internal reasons, and until the chronology of the earlier history of Ceylon has been subjected to a critical examination.' Now, the chronology of Ceylonese history has been the subject of considerable discussion, and as a result,¹¹¹ the dates of the early kings of Ceylon are as well established as can be desired. There is only one Gajabāhu in the Ceylon list before the twelfth century, and he ruled from a.d. 173 to 195.¹¹² The only question, therefore, is whether the synchronism suggested by the *Śilappadikāram* between Śeṅguṭṭuvan and Gajabāhu is to be taken into account, or whether, in view of the romantic and the supernatural elements in that poem, this synchronism must be rejected as untrustworthy. If there were no other factors to be considered, our answer to such a question must remain inconclusive. But there are several important factors which render it difficult, not to say impossible, for anyone to reject the synchronism, and with it the scheme of chronology arising from it.

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There is perfect concord between the Śaṅgam anthologies, the notices of South India in classical works of the early centuries of the Christian era, like the *Periplus* and Ptolemy’s geography, and the numerous finds of Roman coins of the early Roman Empire in several places in Southern India. This would lead any unbiassed student to the conclusion that the Tamil anthologies were contemporary with the classical works and the Roman coins.¹¹³

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Attention has been drawn already to the occurrence, in the *Mahāvaṁsa* account of the early relations between Ceylon and the Tamil country, of names of Tamil chieftains which, with variations natural in the circumstances, are repeated in the poems of the *Puṟanānūṟu*, *Pattuppāṭṭu* and so on. The story of Eḷāra in the *Mahāvaṁsa* is doubtless the Ceylonese version of the Tamil Cōḷa story of the king who condemned his son to death for calf-slaughter. The *Mahāvaṁsa* places Eḷāra in the second half of the second century b.c. and the other Tamil princes mentioned in the later half of the first. If we remember that the early chapters of the *Mahāvaṁsa* were composed in the fifth century a.d. from earlier chronicles,¹¹⁴ we shall see that the somewhat confused account of the Tamil invasions of the island in this early part of its history are not bottomless fabrications, but preserve for us the faded memory of real events, and the dates assigned to these events cease to be altogether valueless for Tamil chronology.¹¹⁵

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