Anna Liberata De
Souza the Calicut Ayah and Mary Frere the memsahib
Sometimes you come across the most amazing persons in dark
and musty historic alleys. They are coated in layers of dust and grime added on
by the many years which have passed by and the many people who have handled
them. Getting the original persona out of this jacket is therefore enormous
fun, if you are so inclined. And Anna D’Souza made me do just that, just like
she got academicians Leela Prasad at Duke and Kirin Narayan at Wisconsin
interested. I am as you will also understand, borrowing from the intense
efforts of Leela and Kirin in uncovering the story of a remarkable Ayah – Anna
D’Souza, though my work unlike theirs will stick to Anna and not to her tales.
Her tales are something you should read yourself, and a helpful link is
provided at the tail end of this biopic.
Indian folk tales meandered along into world literature, and
that started eons ago. You will find linkages between Greek tales and our
epics, you will find connections and similarities between Western fairy tales
and the Panchatantra or the Jataka and so on. But the person who provided
fodder to a very popular set of tales, the first of their kind entitled ‘Deccan
tales’ was actually one born to ancestors who lived in Calicut. It was also
perhaps the only book of its time which gave the native narrator not only full
credit but also space for introducing herself and telling her own tale. And interestingly,
through these tales, Anna
was the first person to introduce Kannaki’s tale from Chilappathikaram, in her
own way, to the western world..
As we know now, Mary was educated at Wimbledon, she arrived
at Bombay, where her father was governor, and in the following year (1864), in
her mother's absence in England she was the young 18 year old hostess at the government
house. With not much else to do, she accompanied her father on his Mahratha tours,
traveling for 3 months during 1865-66. Quite lonely during the tour and having
only one other female companion the ayah in the whole entourage, Mary started a
conversation with her Calicut Ayah. It was thus that she gathered these tales
from Anna Liberata. Let us see what Mary herself had to say on this
collaboration which continued on for some 18 months.
Mary explains - The
circumstances were as follows. In the cold weather of 1865-6, my father, whom I
accompanied, made a three months' tour through the Southern Mahratta Country,
in the Bombay Presidency, of which he was then Governor. Our party (of around
600 souls) was composed of my father and his Staff, to whom were usually added
two or three friends, and the Officers Civil and Military, who were commanding
in the Districts through which he was passing. Our mode of progress consisted
in riding or driving about twenty-five miles a day, from one of our Camps to
the next….My mother being at the time absent in England, I chanced to be the
only Lady of the party. Anna Liberata de Souza, my native ayah, went with me.
They traveled through Poona, Satara, Kolhapur, Bijapur,
Sholapur, back to Poona and Bombay. It was certainly an eye-opener to Mary, new
to the Indian countryside filled with rich, poor and varying races.
Mary continues - As
there was no other lady in the Camp, and I sometimes had no lady visitors for
some days together, I was necessarily much alone. One day, being tired of
reading, writing, and sketching, I asked Anna, my constant attendant, whose
caste (the Lingaet) belonged to part of the country that we were traversing, if
she could not tell me a story? This she declared to be impossible. I said, 'You
have children and grandchildren, surely you tell them stories to amuse them
sometimes?' She then said she would try and remember one, such as she told her
grandchildren, and which had been told her by her own grandmother when she was
a child; and she told me the story of 'Punchkin;' which was subsequently
followed by the others that are here recorded. Whilst narrating them she
usually sat cross-legged on the floor, looking into space, and repeating what
she said as by an effort of memory. If any one came into the room whilst she
was speaking, or she were otherwise interrupted during the narration, it was
apparently impossible for her to gather up the thread of the narration where it
had been dropped, and she had to begin afresh at the beginning of her story as
at the commencement of some long-forgotten melody. She had not, I believe,
heard any of the stories after she was eleven years old, when her grandmother
had died. As she told me a story I
made notes of what she said, and then wrote it down and read it to her, to be
certain that I had correctly given every detail. In this manner all the stories
that she could recollect were one by one recorded.
Now how did Anna the narrator learn these stories? These
stories were picked up by Anna’s grandmother while living at Calicut in the
late 17th century, a period when the Mysore sultans ravaged the city
and laid it to waste. We also know that they spoke in Malayalam at home (the
Calicut language, with perhaps a bit of Konkani added). Anna also introduces
one to what is known as the ‘Calicut song’, perhaps a ship song based somewhat
on the Portuguese song ‘A Nau Catrineta’ written around Cabral’s exploits. I had written about the Calicut song some months ago.
So I think it is time to get to
know Anna D’Souza and her life. At one point of time, her family belonged to the
Saivite Lingayat (perhaps vania potters (kumbar)) community residing in Calicut.
Whether they drifted from Coorg or the Nelliyalam regions where they had
prospered in the past, is not clear, but we do know that Tipu in particular was
heavy handed with their community, once choosing to single out a Lingayat woman
who according to local practice wore no upper garments. As the story goes he
saw her selling curds (yogurt) on a street and had his soldiers seize her and
cut off her breasts to make it a point that women had to cover themselves, as
was prescribed in his religion.
The British were awarded the
territory of Malabar in 1792 after Tipu lost the third Anglo Mysore war after
which the new rulers settled down to administer Malabar, from Tellicherry. This
was perhaps the period when Anna’s grandfather joined the British army and rose
up to the position of Havildar. Sometime later he moved to Goa, converted
himself and his family to Christianity and settled down there. It is certainly
curious that he took a Portuguese family name, when he could have become a
British Protestant Christian instead. I wondered if Anna’s grandmother, Anna
Liberata was perhaps a Goan girl herself and if a conversion was needed to
marry her, but that would not have been the case since their children grew up
in Calicut and spoke Malayalam, not Konkani.
His father who had continued on
in Calicut, was miffed and threw them out of the house, so they settled in Goa,
but continued to speak Malayalam at home while learning new tongues such as
English, Marathi and Konkani. We can surmise that all this occurred in the
early 1812-1815 period as the British moved into Goa, and this is corroborated
by Anna. Anna’s grandmother, a stately, tall, strong, fine and handsome woman,
the original teller of all these tales, was named Anna Liberata after her
conversion and they adopted the family name D’souza. The grandfather and Anna’s
father continued to soldier on for the British with the latter becoming a tent
lascar (tent-pitcher). We note from
Anna’s tale that her father and grandfather fought Tipu and considering the
mention of Wellesley can also assume that they fought against the Pazhassi
Raja, and were with the army during the same time as TH Baber in Tellichery.
Around 1817, we see that Anna’s
father was in charge of the Khadki stores near Pune when the third Anglo
Maratha war was raging at Khadki. Anna the narrator was born approximately
around 1819-1823 in Calicut. After things had settled down, Anna and her eight
siblings (seven brothers and a sister) moved to Pune and grew up in the
cantonment, in care of their grandmother. Her mother did menial work and even ground
rice for shopkeepers now and then, when she could for the extra income. When
she did not, she took care of the children and to get them off the streets,
told them many folk tales, sometimes over and over again, burning them into
Anna’s memory. Meanwhile Anna brushed up her knowledge of English and became an
Ayah, working as a trusted servant for many British officers. When she was 11,
her grandmother died and a year later she was married off, aged 12. Eight years
and two children later, Anna was widowed, and lost her son, whom she had taken
pains to send to school. Her daughter Rosie however grew up to get married and
bear more children. The stories that Anna heard from her grandmother were
retold to her own grandchildren. This was her story until she met Mary Frere
and the ‘Deccan Days’ project started.
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| Anna Liberata De'Souza |
Mary adds that Anna Liberata de Souza's detailed her own
story in the sum of many conversations she had with her, during the eighteen
months that she was with them. She adds that the legends themselves were
altered as little as possible. To get a
feel of Anna’s narration, read this
My grandfather's
family were of the Lingaet caste, and lived in Calicut; but they went and
settled near Goa at the time the English were there. It was there my
grandfather became a Christian. He and his wife, and all the family, became
Christians at once, and when his father heard it he was very angry, and turned
them all out of the house. There were very few Christians in those days. Now
you see Christians everywhere, but then we were very proud to see one anywhere.
My grandfather was Havildar in the English army; and when the English fought
against Tippo Sahib my grandmother followed him all through the war. She was a
very tall, fine, handsome woman, and very strong; wherever the regiment marched
she went, on, on, on, on, on ('great deal hard work that old woman done').
Plenty stories my granny used to tell about Tippo and how Tippo was killed, and
about Wellesley Sahib, and Monro Sahib, and Malcolm Sahib, and Elphinstone
Sahib. Plenty things had that old woman heard and seen.
Ah, he was a good man,
Elphinstone Sahib! My granny used often to tell us how he would go down and say
to the soldiers, 'Baba, Baba, fight well. Win the battles, and each man shall
have his cap full of money; and after the war is over I'll send every one of
you to his own home.' (And he did do it.) Then we children 'plenty proud' when
we heard what Elphinstone Sahib had said. In those days the soldiers were not
low-caste people like they are now. Many very high caste men, and come from
very far, from Goa, and Calicut, and Malabar, to join the English.
My father was a tent
lascar, and when the war was over my grandfather had won five medals for all
the good he had done, and my father had three; and my father was given charge
of the Kirkee stores. My grandmother and mother, and all the family, were in
those woods behind Poona at time of the battle at Kirkee. I’ve often heard my
father say how full the river was after the battle--baggage and bundles
floating down, and men trying to swim across--and horses and all such a bustle.
Many people got good things on that day. My father got a large chattee, and two
good ponies that were in the river, and he took them home to camp; but when he
got there the guard took them away. So all his trouble did him no good.
We were poor people,
but living was cheap, and we had 'plenty comfort.'
Mary concludes - These
few legends, told by one old woman to her grandchildren, can only be considered
as representatives of a class. "That world," to use her own words,
" is gone ;" and those who can tell us about it in this critical and
unimaginative age,, are fast disappearing too, before the onward march of civilization;
yet there must be in the country many a rich gold mine unexplored. Will no one go
to the diggings?Mary acknowledges that she records it for her ‘Little
sister’- Catherine Francis Frere, for whom the tales were written down and then
‘to all those in India who love England and to all those in England who love
India’.
After adding an introduction and a recommendation with notes
by her father as well as illustrations
by her sister Catherine, Mary Frere
published twenty-four of these tales in March 1868, under the title of 'Old
Deccan Days.' The work was very successful, and was reprinted four times (fifth
impression 1898). She had sent out advance copies to many other luminaries such
as Kingsley, Tennyson, Longfellow and Grant, and not to forget, the Queen
monarch. Max Muller commented that Miss Frere's tales had been preserved by
oral tradition so accurately that some of them were nearly word for word
translations of the Sanskrit in which they were originally told. More editions
followed providing Mary decent profits from the effort.
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| Government House - Poona |
Another reviewer stated (The Eclectic Magazine, Volume 9) - Many an English child has passed its early
years in parts of India without hearing from native servants any one of the
pictures as legends here gathered from the lips of Anna Liberata de Souza. If
this woman still lives, it may convey to her a true pleasure, in the evening of
a life which has had sore troubles, to know that she has made thousands of
English children happy, and that here, if not in her own land, her name will be
remembered with feelings of lively gratitude.
Anna’s words are prophetic - I don’t know what good all this reading and writing does. My
grandfather couldn’t write, and my father couldn’t write, they did very well;
but all that’s changed now. I know your language—what use? To blow the fire? I
only a miserable woman, fit to go to cook-room and cook the dinner?
Other memsahebs had
offered to take her to Britain, but she had no interest. She said - One lady
with whom I stayed wished to take me to England with her when she went home (at
that time the children neither little or big), and she offered to give me Rs.
5000 and warm clothes if I would go with her; but I wouldn't go. I a silly girl
then, and afraid of going from the children and on the sea; I think--' May be I
shall make plenty money, but what good if all the little fishes eat my bones? I
shall not rest with my old Father and Mother if I go '--so I told her I could
not do it. I would come to England with you, for I know you would be good to me
and bury me when I die, but I cannot go so far from Rosie.
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| Khirkee battle |
Anna Liberata de Souza died at Government House, Gunish
Khind (Ganeshkhind), near Poona, after a short illness, on 14th August 1887, 19
years after her tales were published. Her poignant remark about the decline in
story telling with the advent of literacy, is something many of us will agree
with. Mary mentioned this in her notes and that there was a performance aspect
in the art of Anna’s storytelling – ‘half the charm, however, consisted in the narrator’s
eager, flexible, voice and graphic gestures.’ Ironically, Anna as you can see
never travelled to places she wanted to, but her stories spread far and wide, leaving
behind a lasting legacy.
A few words on Bartle Frere would not be out of place. Frere
was educated in the EIC College and
appointed a writer in the Bombay civil
service in 1834. He became the collector of Poona in 1835 and then the PA to
the governor of Bombay in 1842. Then he was the resident at Satara, after which
he became the commissioner of Sindh in 1850. By 1862, he moved back to Bombay
as its Governor. He was back in Britain in 1867. In 1877 he became the High
commissioner of South Africa. His later years did not prove to be good in
anyway with his behavior during the Zulu wars and in 1880 he was recalled and
censured. On his death Mary Frere wrote a glowing obituary, which makes
interesting reading. They used to have a Frere road in Karachi. Leela Prasad
adds - Frere supported the inclusion of natives into governance, encouraged the
vernacular, and developed a native infrastructure, all without compromising his
commitment to British imperialism. He assumed the governorship of Bombay in
1862, and once again distinguished himself through his public works that
modernized the city of Bombay. He encouraged the cotton trade to compensate for
the scarcity of cotton for the mills of Manchester during the American Civil
War years. Bartle Frere retired as governor of Bombay, and returned to England
in March 1867. The manuscript of Old Deccan Days traveled back with him and his
daughter.
Accompanying her father to South Africa when he was appointed
high commissioner (March 1877), Mary Frere continued to mix with the local populace,
like she did at India. She was after her eventual return to London, also invited
by Queen Victoria for an audience. Later on, Mary travelled extensively and
spent time in Egypt, and finally spending time at Jerusalem between 1906 to
August 1908. She paased away three years later in 1911.
As we saw, Mary Frere profited handsomely from her efforts,
aided by the influence her father had, she kept in touch with Anna, but whether
she shared the monetary profits with Anna or her progeny is doubtful. I tried
to find out what happened to Rosie, but as they say the trail had gone cold
years ago. Perhaps there is somebody in Khadki or Poona who vaguely remembers
their great grandmother, who knows?
References
Old Deccan Days or Hindoo Fairy Legends by Mary Frere,
Edited and with an introduction by Kirin Narayan
The authorial other in folktale collections in colonial
India Tracing Narration and its Dis/Continuities - Leela Prasad
Anna’s narrative from Deccan days
Notes
Khadki (referred to previously as Kirkee during the British
Raj) was the site of the Battle of Khadki, fought between the British East
India Company and the Marathas in 1817 in which Baji Rao II, the Peshwa ruler
was defeated. Soon after the war, the British set up a cantonment here. It then
became the base of the Royal Regiment of Artillery's 79 (Khadki) Commando
Battery. Gunish Khind is Ganeshkhind, not far from Khadki.
