from home, for the supremacy of India. Here, too, Hyder Ali and his son Tippoo in 1780 met, and by superior numbers overpowered an English force, slaying or capturing them to a man.
But Hyder and Tippoo have passed away, and British power is here supreme. The inhabitants of the holy city, no more harrassed by marauding bands of robbers or terrified by the approach of hostile armies, have little to think of but their pagodas, their processions, and their gains reaped from the superstitions of Southern India.
The town is long and straggling, covering a space near six miles in length. The streets are broad, level, and finely planted with shade-trees. The inhabitants are mainly Brahmin, who live by the temples. Their houses are often large, and, when compared with those of other Hindu towns, handsome. Though the country around is not rich, the money brought into Conjeveram by its sanctity, and its celebrity as a resort of pilgrims, gives it the appearance of prosperity and ease. The streets cross each other regularly; the temples are of uncommon size and extent, the tanks large, and the choultries (native rest-houses) numerous.
