If interrupted in their industry, by the dread of such events, they retired till the storm had blown over, and returned, after each temporary dispersion, to resume possession of the lands and their village tank.

The desolation which now reigns over the plains which the Singhalese formerly tilled, was precipitated by the reckless domination of the Malabars, in the fourteenth and following centuries.  The destruction of reservoirs and tanks has been ascribed to defective construction, and to the absence of spill-waters, and other facilities for discharging the surplus-water, during the prevalence of excessive rains; but independently of the fact that vast numbers of these tanks, though utterly deserted, remain, in this respect, almost uninjured to the present day, we have the evidence of their own native historians, that for upwards of fifteen centuries, the reservoirs, when duly attended to, successfully defied all the dangers to be apprehended from inundation.  Their destruction and abandonment are ascribable, not so much to any engineering defect, as to the disruption of the village communities, by whom they were so long maintained.  The ruin of a reservoir, when neglected and permitted to fall into decay, was speedy and inevitable; and as the destruction of the village tank involved the flight of all dependent upon it, the water, once permitted to escape, carried pestilence and miasma over the plains they had previously covered with plenty.  After such a calamity any partial return of the villagers, even where it was not prevented by the dread of malaria, would have been impracticable; for the obvious reason, that where the whole combined labour of the community was not more than sufficient to carry on the work of conservancy and cultivation, the diminished force of a few would have been utterly unavailing, either to effect the reparation of the watercourses, or to restore the system on which the culture of rice depends.  Thus the process of decay, instead of a gradual decline as in other countries, became sudden and utter desolation in Ceylon.

From such traces as are perceptible in the story of the earliest immigrants, it is obvious that in their domestic habits and civil life they brought with them and perpetuated in Ceylon the same pursuits and traits which characterised the Aryan races that had colonised the valley of the Ganges.  The Singhalese Chronicles abound, like the ancient Vedas, with allusions to agriculture and herds, to the breeding of cattle and the culture of grain.  They speak of village communities and of their social organisation, as purely patriarchal.  Women were treated with respect and deference; and as priestesses and queens they acquired a prominent place in the national esteem.  Rich furniture was used in dwellings and costly textures for dress; but these were obtained from other nations, whose ships resorted to the island, whilst its inhabitants, averse to intercourse with foreigners, and ignorant of navigation, held the pursuits of the merchant in no esteem.