The Taj and the Elephant

Strange, you will mutter, reading the title. Well, I had been wondering about elephants in Istanbul after I had finished the research on the embassy of Tipu Sultan to the Rum in 1787. In that large effort, four elephants were sent along as gifts to the Ottoman Sultan, accompanied by a wasteful 700-person retinue. Continuing on with that story, I chanced on the marvelous book (The Architect's Apprentice) written by Elif Shafak, a fictional tale about an albino Indian elephant named Chota in the Ottoman stables and the story of its young Indian mahout Jahan. That book takes you from India to Istanbul and back finally to the Taj Mahal and well, this touches on two of the aspects around whom Shafak, whom I admire greatly, wove her delightful caper. More as we go along, but if you have not, please do pick up the book and give it a read, you will not regret it. Following all that, I visited the elephant stables at Guruvayur with our little granddaughter a couple of months ago and regaled her with the sight of many elephants being tended to. That was indeed a marvelous sight, that too, seeing them up and close.

Shafak mentions that it was a palace painting showing an elephant behind the Ottoman Sultan, which set her mind to the tale. Commencing with Chota’s arrival in Istanbul sometime in the second half of the 16th century, the evocative novel takes you through medieval Istanbul, educating you on the palace intrigues, the scheming of the eunuchs, and Jahan’s collaboration with one of the world’s greatest architects – Mimar Sinan. For me, it struck many chords, simply because I had spent over 5 years in that magnificent city and could follow Shafak through the streets and buildings of erstwhile Constantinople, feel the smells and sounds she wrote about, just like I was right there. I still think often about Istanbul, and in our home, I have two large panoramas of the city, which I look at every time I pass them. Readers, please take note, that this is not a book review, but some aspects of connected history.

In the medieval period, when ships became the camels of the ocean, large objects could thence be moved from place to place. As traders and colonizers came across the elephant in India, an animal that had been a source of amazement since Alexander’s battles with Porus, the desire to take one back to the West became paramount. The indenter of the elephant, usually a king or a sovereign, could now boast of something unique and boast of not only his long reach across the universe but also the extent of his power and wealth with this new ‘larger than life’ acquisition. Many elephants were thus moved across the oceans, and the Indian elephant was perfectly suited for it, as it was the most docile of the lot. Tragically many of them died in transit or soon after they arrived, mainly due to the lack of good attention, bad weather, and wrong diet, as we saw in the case of Suleiman and Hanno. In the initial dispatches, mahouts were also sent with the elephants, but I guess many of them suffered from the same amount of homesickness and perished quickly in foreign lands.

As we read over many articles, the monsoon trade connected India’s south, especially Calicut and Cochin with many Red Sea ports. Egypt became an epicenter for imports, with the establishment of the Mamluk sultanate. Later, when the Ottomans conquered it in 1517, the reins of the Indian spice trade moved to Turkish masters. The Egyptian government was now headed by bureaucratic officials sent from Constantinople and supported by Ottoman troops, though the Mamluks continued to rule as the powerful emirs under them.

Trade with Malabar did not suffer and continued, with the marked regularity of the monsoons. Goods arrived at Egypt after being initially unloaded at Red Sea ports and branched either towards the spice bazaars of Istanbul or Westwards to Venetian ports for disbursement into Europe. To get to the finer details, one may peruse this study of mine covering the final years of the Mamluk era. (See link). There were powerful forces vying to wrest this trade away from the Arabs and so, Western interlopers from Spain and Portugal, as also from Easterly China, were viewing the scene with keen eyes. Spices, textiles, and gems traveled westwards, while horses moved East to buyers in the Sultanates of Deccan as well as the Mughals. Space in the small dhows which traversed these oceans was always at a premium and therefore only prized animals found occasional charter. Transporting elephants was particularly difficult as they needed huge amounts of food and water to be carried along during the voyage, and this took away cargo and crew space. They could as you can now understand, only be afforded by very rich buyers, typically sovereigns.

The first notices of Elephants in Turkey, date way back to the 6th century at Cappadocia and at Constantinople (Pre Ottoman-Istanbul) as well as the menageries at Fustat in Cairo during the 9th century. Byzantine Emperor Constantine IX paraded an elephant during the 11th. These reached their new destinations via Egyptian emirs, as gifts. There were several elephant stables in Byzantine Constantinople, from which the animals were brought to the Ottoman court, on special occasions. Several of these stables were converted into mosques after the Muslims finally captured the city in 1453.

After the 1517 sack of Egypt, the Ottoman capital of Constantinople got itself directly linked to the Indian Ocean trade. Tigers, monkeys, rhinos, birds, and of course elephants were in demand, especially for the menageries in Constantinople. These menageries were located near the great Topkapi palace and curiously, within an ancient church, the St Johns Church near the Hippodrome. Pierre Belon du Mans a visitor, mentions that larger animals were located within the palace grounds. It seems reasonable to assume that a mahout (elephant handler) accompanied elephants on their journey from the subcontinent and then remained in Istanbul for at least some time to care for the creatures. There is, moreover, some evidence suggesting that elephant handlers were in demand in Istanbul since Ottoman authorities occasionally sought them out and paid for their travel to and maintenance in the city. The gifting of elephants continued as a diplomatic practice in South Asia and as a sign of power and prestige. Mentions continue through the 16th century of elephants heralding battles and gracing palaces. 16th century Istanbul exhibited two skilled elephants, the sight of which was recorded by European envoys. By the 18th century, there was always at least one elephant in the royal stables and large budgets were allocated for its upkeep as well as its mahout. By all accounts, being a mahout accorded meant a comfortable life, and by 1742, there were as many as fourteen men tending to a single elephant.

But we now zoom to one of the two elephants possessed by Sultan Suleyman. He used them for his 1521 campaign, and we can also see mentions where these elephants accompanied his army in the 1526 campaigns. Kemalpasazade mentions them walking like graceful clouds before the Sultan as he marched out of the city on 23 April 1526, and so do Bragaddin and Luigi Bassano.

Melchior Lorck was one such artist who did many sketches of Istanbul. N Westbrook writing about Lorck’s panorama explains - The artist Lorcks, who departed the city in 1559, traveled widely, and spent his time in Istanbul making many drawings that recorded Ottoman costumes, customs, and monuments—an elephant and its driver, a funeral procession, women of a harem, and others depicting building structures. It is not known whether he was commissioned by the sultan to make his portrait, but there are several engravings of the Sultan based, presumably, on drawings he made in Istanbul, and which Melchior Lorck included in his book of views of the city. Lorck did in his portraits of Suleiman, while his panorama of the city of Constantinople, was more than 11 meters long. He is also recorded as having painted twelve portraits of the Sultan, though they were later destroyed in a fire.

Marina Warner reviewing a Lorch book (A view of a view) states - Lorck had a brief audience with the sultan, which he re-created afterward in two different prints, both extraordinarily impressive, revealing his underused capacity for psychological insight: a head and shoulders portrait, and a full-length figure positioned in front of the Suleimaniye mosque, completed in 1557 (Lorck was in Istanbul for its opening). In the full-length portrait, Suleiman is standing with his right hand extended in a gesture that admonishes all those who are present to remain alert; everything about him is grave, and imposing; he appears to be 12 feet tall, erect and majestic, with a curved sword reaching down to the floor, his frame flowing with gleaming silk, dwarfing an elephant which is entering the palace through the archway behind him. The painted version, which Lorck sent to the emperor Maximilian II, seems to have vanished.

The engraving of Suleyman II, (the Sultan shown standing, with an elephant with the Süleymaniye mosque in the background, a print of 1574, thought to be based upon a drawing of 1559), was again altered in 1688 to represent Ibrahim I. This above painting, which you can see above is the one that Shafak Elif observed. She explains - Inside the book - Gülru NecipoÄŸlu’s - The Age of Sinan: Architectural Culture in the Ottoman Empire, one particular drawing caught my eye: it was a painting of Sultan Suleiman, tall and sleek in his kaftan. But it was the figures in the background that intrigued me. There was an elephant and a mahout in front of the Suleimaniye Mosque; they were hovering on the edge of the picture, as if ready to run away, unsure as to what they were doing in the same frame as the Sultan and the monument dedicated to him. I could not take my eyes off this image. The story had found me.

So much for the elephant, and though I could gather nothing about its antecedents, I would assume that like many who preceded them and many after, they too had been captured near Nelliyampathy or the Anamalai forests near Palghat, and shipped through a port in Malabar, usually Calicut or Ponnani.

Now we come to the second part which deals with the fictional involvement of Jehan and his dome-building skills being put to test in building the greatest edifice at Agra, the Taj Mahal. But let us see what that story is about. I won’t spill the beans on what Jehan did in the fictional account, but he arrived at Agra in 1632. The draftsman in charge of construction Mir Abdul Karim takes him in, after seeing the seal of Mimar Sinan the great, with Jahan (Mimar Sinan- The son of Greek or Armenian Christian parents, Sinan entered his father’s trade as a stone mason and carpenter and rose to become the most celebrated of all Ottoman architects, whose ideas, perfected in the construction of mosques and other buildings, served as the basic themes for virtually all later Turkish religious and civic architecture) takes him in. Jahan Khan Rumi is then appointed by Shajahan to contribute to the building of the Taj Mahal. Jahan invites his favorite student Isa and they set about designing the magnificent edifice and what the Turkish craftsmen were in those days famous for, building the dome. If only, the story is as pat as Shafak puts it, though the Taj part of the book is hurried through with an aging Jehan, becoming a family man.

In reality, the architecture of the Taj Mahal is still a hotly contested topic. For such a prominent monument, there are no clear records of its architect, and the general conjuncture is that it was the effort of a huge team (1,000 - 20,000) that worked for 10-22 years from 1632 AD, on land/structure purchased from Raja Jai Singh, with even the emperor Shahjahan contributing to its design.

Arguments fly, not without sparks, from some who say that it was a temple complex retrofitted into a mausoleum, with others contesting it stating that the Taj looks like no other temple, while some experts chime in saying it cannot be a retrofit (old structure re-laid with marble, with a single door and decorative minarets around) as there are no clear clues of an earlier construction in the design or in its structure. Then there are comments that the dome is based on the Lotus canopy (bulbous dome) - an old temple concept, and that this dome is unlike any Turkish mosque dome (true, it does look more like most Samarkand domes), especially Mimar Sinan’s Blue Mosque.

P. N. Oak in his book "The Taj Mahal is a Temple Palace” opines that it was originally a temple in the 12th century AD, which fell to Rajput kings during the period of Humayun and was later used as a palace by Raja Man Singh of Jaipur. This according to him, was then commandeered by Shahjahan from Raja Jai Singh of Jaipur and converted into a mausoleum. Proponents of this thinking add further that it does not accurately align (off by 15 degrees) to Mecca, as most Muslim monuments do. Then there is the Aurangzeb letter of 1652 which records that the master architects had no solution to dome leaks, suggesting they were washing their hands off something they had nothing to do with, in the first place. Yet others state that Samarkand domes were in the first place, actually built in the lotus style by Buddhist architects taken as prisoners by Timur, the lame. Nevertheless, neither side present clinching arguments or evidence.

After some pottering about, trying to get to the bottom of this, I realized that I would find no clear answer and that the surviving legends had taken deep root. Strange also is the fact that the Mughal court had so many European emissaries and none recorded details of this massive construction effort – barring a few sparse mentions by Peter Mundy the EIC man in town, Tavernier, the French gem trader, F Bernier, and also Thevenot, thereby raising questions as to whether it was a 1,000-person effort spanning 10 years or a 20,000-person effort spanning all of 20 years. The deeper one went, the more the questions he ended up with, suggesting that the real truth may be somewhere in the grey zone.

Two names however stand out to support the traditional argument that it was built from scratch on Hari Singh’s land – Ustad Isa (Discounting names such as the Italian Geronimo Veroneo, the Frenchman Bordeaux, and Persian Ali Mardan) and Ustad Ahmad Lahori. There are even mentions of Shahjahan having drawn up the design, but then again, in those days like in the case of some musical compositions, the credit for a building's design also went usually to its patron, rather than its architects.


There are draftsmen, masons, goldsmiths, and so on named in palace accounts, and Prof Nath in his books, provides details. For example, there are - Mukrimat Khan and Mir Abdul Karim from Shiraz, chief supervisors and administrators, Ismail Effendi (Ismail Khan Rumi) who had worked for the great Ottomans in Turkey as a designer and builder of the dome, Mohammed Hanif, Chief mason as well as other master masons from Iran, Central Asia and India. The list goes on, naming many artisans and craftsmen, but nobody as a chief designer. The world heritage monument register # 252, Oct 15, 1982 states - The monument, begun in 1632, was finished in 1648; unverified but nonetheless, tenacious, legends attribute its construction to an international team of several thousands of masons, marble-workers, mosaicists, and decorators working under the orders of the architect of the emperor, Ustad Ahmed Lahori.

There were mentions, from no lesser an authority than James Fergusson (supported by Dr Burgess) that Ali Mardan, the Persian refugee was the designer of the Taj Mahal, perhaps based on the similarity between the Shalimar Gardens and the Taj’s Garden. This never found any acceptance among Taj historians. Those in support of Ustad Isa’s name believed the British explanation, which is considered flawed. One Carlo Basil suggested that Ustad Isa was actually Geronimo Veroneo! This was echoed by Rev Heras and Vincent Smith, but contemporary writers also failed to support the theory of a European designer. As it turned out, Ustad Isa Khan was a draftsman in the team, not a mimar.

Sometime in 1930, a work in Farsi, named Diwan I Muhandis was discovered by a scholar in Bangalore, a work penned by Lutfullah Muhandis which went on to mention that one Ustad Ahmad Lahori from Lahore designed both the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. The record which also praised Dara Shikoh (Shahjahan’s son and Aurangzeb’s enemy) was held in secret as Lutfullah was his follower. Fearing retribution from Aurangzeb the family went into hiding and died in penury, survived only by the book. It turns out that Lutfullah was Ustad Ahmad Lahori’s son and he states in the book that his father was the king’s chief architect who built the Mumtaz Mahal mausoleum and the Delhi fort. This was formally presented in a paper by Dr. Nadvi and has been accepted as fact by most historians.

Fergusson, the pioneer in the field of Indian archaeology and an authoritative historian makes this brief but startling remark about the Taj Mahal, "When used as a Baradhari, or pleasure palace, it must always have been the coolest and loveliest of garden retreats, and now that it is sacred to the dead it is the most graceful and the most impressive of the sepulchers of the world" making it clear that he too had doubts about its origins.

Prof R Nath is steadfast in his works that there may not have been any chief architect (other than perhaps Ustad Isa), and decries the naming of Lahori, stating that a verse of a son praising his father’s work, in a private diary cannot be considered factual, without additional corroborating evidence.

But it should be noted that construction work in the Mughal dynasty was usually executed under the supervision of a senior mimar. The term normally denoted a mason but was also used for the chief of works or its supervisor. Ustad Ahmad and Ustad Hamid, were both expert mimars, so one or both of them may have been in charge.  

A rather pessimistic Robert Chisholm had this to say in a 1910 paper - In regard to its architectural merits, buildings can be found in India surpassing it (The Taj Mahal) in every direction: thus, for size and boldness of construction, the Taj falls far below the Gol Gombez at Bijapur. In his paper he details at length the various architectural flaws and explains - It is as if the man with the idea (the so-called chief architect) had been allowed to experiment with white marble in Shahjahan's time on Humayun's tomb, and that while he worked, the idea of the Taj grew and became perfected; that he worked only on those features which he intended the Taj to possess - the great dome and the facade. That a successor, knowing Humayun's tomb to be his source of inspiration, but not understanding the principle on which his predecessor worked, constructed the four smaller domes and the lighthouse-looking minarets at the angles of their platform after the man with the idea left.

It will certainly be a never-ending effort to determine if it was once a temple, just a Baradhari, or built as a sepulcher, but we do know it turned out to be a lovely building, and certainly each argument has its merits and demerits allowing us to reach no firm conclusion. For now, we can conclude that it was a mammoth effort that took many years and many men to complete, and the result is as we all agree, a lovely edifice, and one which we are all proud of, irrespective of who designed it.

References

The Architect's Apprentice - Shafak, Elif
Islamic Culture, Vol 48, 1974 - Ustad Ahmad Lahori – H I S Kanwar
Eastern world, Jan 1958 - Designer of the Taj – H I S (Hari Inder Singh) Kanwar
The Taj Mahal and its incarnation – Dr R Nath
Taj Mahal – An illuminated Tomb – Begley & Desai plus review/ rejoinder by Dr Nath
The Taj Mahal, Agra, and its relations to Indian architecture - Robert F. Chisholm
The Myth of the Taj Mahal and a New Theory of Its Symbolic Meaning - Wayne E. Begley
The Question of the Taj Mahal - P. S. Bhat and A. L. Athawale
Constructing Melchior Lorichs's Panorama of Constantinople - Nigel Westbrook, Kenneth Rainsbury Dark and Rene van Meeuwen
The Animal in Ottoman Egypt by Alan Mikhail

Also read – Maddy’s Ramblings, Historic alleys

A Pope and an Elephant

Tipu’s delegation to Istanbul 

 

 

 

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The Seventh fleet and the 1971 Indo-Pak war

Task force 74 in the Indian Ocean

The arrival of the US Seventh fleet in the Indian Ocean caused much apprehension in an already volatile Indo – East Pakistan war zone, in the middle of Dec 1971. India had just staved off a Pakistani attack on its western borders and was crushing Pakistani army forces at its Eastern flanks, off Calcutta. It was at this juncture that the mighty 7th fleet, headed by its flagship USS Enterprise, steamed into the Indian ocean. Hot at their heels was a Soviet task force, supported by submarines. Much has been written about this event, but unfortunately, quite a bit of it is glazed with bombast. After some deep digging, I unearthed a better picture, so here it is.

Let’s first recap the Bangladesh saga, referring to my earlier article covering journalist Jack Anderson’s involvement.

Following the Agartala case, the West Pakistani government’s keenness to prove that Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was an Indian agent and a separatist backfired, and a mass movement erupted. Yahya Khan became the dictator of Pakistan and surprisingly held open elections only to find the rebel Mujibur Rehman winning most of the seats, 141 of them amid murmurs of secession from West Pakistan.  The Awami league headed by Mujib won the 1970 elections and was in control of East Pakistan, much to Yahya’s disgust. He then launched Operation searchlight with the ruthless dictum – ‘kill 3 ½ million of ‘em Bengalis and the rest will eat out of our hands’. In the resulting genocide, millions perished and others (close to 10 million) took to flight, towards the Indian border, while India offered support to the Mukti Bahini.

Anderson explains - When the slaughter of the Bengalis began, Archer K. Blood, then U.S. Consul General in Dacca, the capital of East Pakistan, sent details to U.S. Ambassador Joseph Farland in Islamabad and to the State Department in Washington. Blood was summoned to Washington in June 1971, but planned to return to Dacca for the remaining eighteen months of his tour of duty. At the State Department he was told he was an alarmist, and was given a desk in the personnel office.

Nixon and Kissinger threw their lot with Yahya while badmouthing Indira Gandhi, India’s prime minister, in the vilest terms. While the bad personal equations resulted in a lot of friction, Nixon believed that the bluff, direct military chiefs of Pakistan were more congenial to him than the complex and apparently haughty Brahmin leaders of India (Kissinger).

Nixon had in the meanwhile planned to restart friendly relations with China, using Pakistan’s help. That said, Nixon also supported Pakistan and their dastardly actions in the public sphere and refused to condemn the atrocities being wrought in East Bengal. Yahya ramped up the rhetoric accusing India of direct support for Mujib, and launched a propaganda campaign ‘crush India’. Indira Gandhi who wanted to stop the genocide quickly was informed by Gen Manekshaw that it was not yet opportune due to various tactical reasons. As the water was getting to a boil, Russia warned Yahya not to go to war. China was expected to support Pakistan and the reason why Manekshaw delayed his counter was to stop the Chinese with the snow and the ice-clad Himalayas in December. War was inevitable, armies were amassed at both western and eastern borders, and the Taj Mahal was camouflaged.

In Dec 1971, Pakistan preemptively attacked Indian airbases, and as the world quickly condemned the attack, Nixon demurred, stating staunch neutrality and non-involvement. However, that was only in public, for in secret he decided to help Yahya, in spite of a congressional ban on any form of aid to these warring countries. Iran, Jordan, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia were contacted and asked to stealthily assist Pakistan by transferring fighter planes and armaments, which they all did, except for Iran. Indian forces countered the attack with massive well-coordinated air, sea, and land assaults on Pakistan from all fronts. The Pak navy was decimated and soon enough the submarine Ghazi was sunk, a story I had written about some years ago. As China continued their military preparations (53rd and 157th infantry) at the Himalayas to carry out ‘urgent missions’, Russia contemplated a preemptive strike at Sinkiang to wipe out some of China's missile launchers.

Anderson the Washington journalist who had been publishing about the misdeeds of the Nixon administration thus far now informed the world about the US Pakistan tilt and the movements of task force 74 – the seventh fleet, and the dangerous turn such a move could take, potentially WW III.

After the initial attack, the Pak air force went into a defensive mode. Nixon, following up the above indirect actions, ordered the seventh fleet and its support force, into the Bay of Bengal, ostensibly to rescue a handful of Americans in East Bengal. He wanted to throw a royal scare onto Indira Gandhi, and needle the Soviets who were planning to support India. It is specifically the involvement of the task force 74 (7th fleet) hastily mobilized by a brash Nixon and his security advisor Kissinger, which we will get into today.

Nixon and Kissinger were absolutely convinced that India was planning to crush Pakistan once and for all, and many of their actions were based on that singular premise. There may have been a lack of clarity in India’s stance on the retaking of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir, but there were no declarations of a larger invasion strategy. Despite assurances from India and USSR albeit later in Dec that they would not dismember West Pakistan, Nixon, was convinced that Indira Gandhi, who he hated fervently, was lying. We now head to Dacca, to the closing stage of the 14-day war (which started on 3rd Dec 1971) in the Eastern theater, while the global powers were still in the grip of cold war throes.

Pakistan was aligned to the US, and a member of the SEATO plus CENTO while India was tied to the USSR. The Bengalis of East Pakistan were the aggrieved party and were pulled into this fracas by Pakistan, who was in turn allied with China. Note here that China though communist, were wary of Russians at their borders and had thence opened themselves to talks with the US, through Pakistan’s Yahya Khan. The US, represented by Kissinger, wanting an ally on USSR’s borders, was mighty thankful to Pakistan, for this opening. At that juncture, India signed the friendship and peace treaty with USSR, due to these strategic concerns and alliances. Anyway, the war on the Eastern front which started with the offensives on the 3rd Dec saw India’s infantry might at play, and by the 10th, Pakistani defense had ground to a halt, and the Pakistan Army in the East had made its first tentative move to obtain a ceasefire.

Meanwhile, Nixon and Kissinger had been planning other strategies, Goh explains - Kissinger encouraged Beijing to support actively its Pakistani ally in several ways. He provided the Chinese ambassador to the United Nations, Huang Hua, with detailed intelligence information about Indian deployments. He also indicated that the US could provide details of Soviet forces at the Chinese Northern border and tacit US support. Nixon then decided on the deployment of the 7th fleet. This same fleet had been around for quite a while and its deployment to the region in India’s support during the 1962 Chinese aggression had been contemplated when India asked the US for support, but the Chinese quickly withdrew and Ambassador Galbraith who originated the idea (as he said - with the benefit of insomnia) canceled his request.

The 1971 involvement was broached in a Nixon-Kissinger meeting on 8th Dec and discussed around a plan to repatriate Americans in E Pakistan using helicopters, to a US aircraft carrier in the Bay of Bengal. On the 9th, the order was given to the 7th fleet to move towards the Indian ocean. The Chinese when asked to move their military over the Himalayas, demurred, promising nothing (anyway it was a mammoth task, during those winter months). On the 10th the USS Enterprise and support ships left Yankee station in Vietnam and sailed towards the action zone.

On the 11th, the news hit the press and India was in an uproar, hearing about the US naval moves against her. A lot of things happened the next day. The fleet arrived in Singapore on the 12th, Nixon concluded that China would not act and the opinion was that this could even culminate in a US-USSR conflict. A Soviet delegation in Delhi reported that India would not invade West Pakistan. Four C130 aircraft owned by the UK airlifted most American personnel from Dacca. Nixon and Kissinger flew off to attend some MBFR talks and the 7th fleet in Singapore awaited further orders. Niazi is exhorted to hold on for another 36 hours by Gul Hassan – Yellows from the North, whites from the South.


The US Navy’s Chief of Naval Operations, Adm Zumwalt halted the fleet (Kissinger says he halted it, awaiting a report from Moscow) at Singapore for two days since his advice had not been taken, and because vague orders had been given by the civilian administration. The original orders for the TG74 were to deploy to a position off East Pakistan. Adm Zumwalt felt that this would put them in harm’s way and he convinced the powers to change their deployment area to a holding position, South-East of Sri Lanka. Finally, they were ordered to proceed to the Bay of Bengal through the Malacca Strait in broad daylight so as to be as conspicuous as possible.

They left on 13th evening, destined for Lanka. On 14th Yahya wrote to Nixon - The Seventh Fleet does not only have to come to our shores but also to relieve certain pressures which we by ourselves are not in a position to cope with. In this connection, I have sent a specific proposal through General Raza about the role the Seventh Fleet could play at Karachi which, I hope, is receiving your attention. This probably referred to Raza’s note to Kissinger the previous day which - requested that the Seventh Fleet be used to keep the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea open to Pakistan and to deter the Indian Navy from attacking Pakistan's harbors

On 16th Niazi surrendered. According to Niazi’s memoirs, he took the final decision because he was told to do so by the Pakistan GHQ and since Air Chief Marshall Rahim called him up and told him that West Pakistan was in danger.

Late on 16th December, the day after Pakistan forces in East Pakistan surrendered, TG 74 arrived at this station, many hundred miles away from the combat zone. The TF74 comprised the nuclear aircraft carrier USS Enterprise, three missile-bearing destroyers, 3-4 amphibious assault ships, an ammunition ship, and a nuclear class submarine. It was considerably powerful, compared to the Soviet task force in pursuit, but still 2 days behind.

On 14th, Pakistan had formally requested the 7th fleet’s support at the Bay of Bengal, and US politicians mentioned the fleet deployment in a press conference, but neither confirming, nor explaining its real purpose. India once again reaffirmed that it would not attack W Pakistan. Meanwhile, the Soviets task force comprising a guided missile cruiser, a diesel-electric submarine, and a replenishment ship were on the move, in pursuit, but expected to arrive in the region 3-4 days later, around the 18th. The situation had by now escalated to dire proportions and the deliberations at the UN security council were reaching nowhere with a plethora of resolutions and vetoes.

The paper by Srikant, Doraibabu and Ashish states - The Indian Naval leadership assessed that Task Force 74’s primary intention was to frighten the Indian Forces into withdrawing their forces from the operational area and let the PN ships break out. Admiral Krishnan, FOCINC East, decided that it must be ensured that Chittagong airport, which had already been bombed and rendered useless to the Pakistanis, must remain in that condition. Also, the five merchant ships that had been camouflaged and concealed by the enemy to be used for evacuation of troops were located after a thorough aerial search and destroyed.

FM Manekshaw and his generals, who had been ordered to hasten the warp up of operations in East Pakistan, met his objective in the nick of time and forced the Pakistani military to the surrender table (Yahya, not expecting this, was incensed!) on the 15th. The Soviet Ambassador to India now dismissed the possibilities of US or China intervening by emphasizing that the Soviet Fleet was also in the Indian Ocean and would not allow the Seventh fleet to interfere; and if China moved into Ladakh, the USSR would respond in Sinkiang [Xinjiang].

The 7th fleet as we saw, arrived at Lanka on the 16th, a day after the surrender. Lanka already the refueling point for Pakistan due to overflight bans, now formally invited the US fleet in, for demonstrative purposes. The first Soviet task force arrived on the 18th and a second on the 26th. The waters churned as the naval assortments faced and shadowed each other, though unequal in might.

Interestingly, India did have a dialogue with China at this juncture – As Raghavan explains - Mrs. Gandhi sought China’s understanding for India’s predicament and requested Zhou to “exercise your undoubted influence” on Yahya to acknowledge the will of the Bengalis. “We seek China’s friendship,” she said. “In my last letter, I had indicated our readiness to discuss problems of mutual interest”. Zhou later explained to Kissinger, “By that time East Pakistan was already unable to be saved.”

So, what was it all about? A subtle threat to intervene if India invaded West Pakistan? Mishra explains the rationale - Considering the international milieu where its (US) stock was low by the Vietnam overhang, the emergence of a technologically improved and numerically robust Soviet Navy under Admiral Gorshkov, and the necessity of sending a reassuring signal to its allies, mandated some visible proof. The naval deployment was a gesture of solidarity for a formal ally (Pakistan) and an indicator to a future partner (China), that the US could be relied upon to abide by its formal commitments.

Kissinger confirms it in his memoirs - The Soviet aim in the wake of our China initiative was to humiliate Peking and to demonstrate the futility of reliance on either China or the United States as an ally. Nixon had to disprove this by sending a clear message, even though E Pakistan was falling and he had been reasonably assured that India would not attack the West.

Jack Anderson, however, concluded that it was - a) compel India to divert both ships and planes to shadow the task force, b) weaken India's blockade against East Pakistan, c) possibly divert the Indian aircraft carrier Vikrant from its military mission; and d) force India to keep planes on defense alert, thus reducing their operations against Pakistani ground troops.  

But as it turned out, this was generally interpreted in India as US chest thumping and posturing, resulting from its misinterpretation of third-party intentions and actions. Wild press reports could be seen by now, including mentions of Soviet Nuclear submarines in the area. Did the soviet task force also possess a nuclear submarine, in hot pursuit? Was there a possibility for a nuclear showdown? Did the 7th fleet beat a hasty retreat as claimed by the press?

According to Anderson, there were many more Soviet assets in the region, in poised readiness. He stated that there were a total of sixteen Soviet ships and submarines near the combat area, though in reality, the Soviets reached only on the 18th and 26th. As far as Russian nuclear submarines are concerned, the reports were wrong, while an Alpha class prototype was developed in 1971, the Delta class was inducted only in 1974, and hence, there was no Russian nuclear submarine trailing the 7th fleet. Were the Soviets like the US testing their naval surge capabilities and also posturing for public eyes? Some strategists believe so and conclude that the US were victors in that sense - The US found it took them 5-6 days to get to the Indian Ocean while the Soviets took 10-15 days.

The 7th fleet remained in the vicinity for a few more weeks with the Russians shadowing them, before moving back to Yankee station. Bass summed it nicely - The USS enterprise carrier group was an atomic-powered bluff, mean to spook the Indians and increase soviet pressure on India for a cease-fire, but nothing more, while Palmer added - The U.S.S. Enterprise, though doing nothing to change the outcome of the war, damaged Indo-American relations for years to come and risked a clash between the United States and the Soviet Union. For the first time, India started to consider the United States a serious security threat to India.

Kissinger explains in his memoirs - Were we threatening India? Were we seeking to defend East Pakistan? Had we lost our minds? It was in fact sober calculation. We had some seventy‐two hours to bring the war to a conclusion before West Pakistan would be swept into the maelstrom. It would take India that long to shift its forces and mount an assault…. It was also the best means to split the Soviet Union and India. Moscow was prepared to harass us; it was in our judgment not prepared to run military risks. Moving the carrier task force into the Bay of Bengal committed us to no final act, but it created precisely the margin of uncertainty needed to force a decision by New Delhi and Moscow.

According to him, this pressure resulted in firm Indian assurances via Moscow that it would not attack W Pakistan. He concludes - Next day Mrs. Gandhi offered an unconditional cease‐fire in the West. There is no doubt in my mind that it was a reluctant decision resulting from Soviet pressure, which in turn grew out of American insistence, including the fleet movement and the willingness to risk the summit. Kissinger also mentions that Yahya and Niazi held on long enough, i.e., until the 16th, time enough for US to ensure that the 7th fleet strategy was in place, to deter a W Pakistan attack. Then again, if there had been no such Indian West Pakistan attack plan, such a deterrence move becomes purposeless, simply because there was nothing to deter.

But in a meeting with Zhou En Lai June 20th, 1972, he said - The reason we moved our Fleet into the Indian Ocean was not because of India primarily – it was as pressure on the Soviet Union if the Soviets did what I mentioned before. This is a bit confusing, though Sheldon Simon states in his 1973 paper that - The Soviets, meanwhile, were reported to have fulfilled their part of the security arrangement with India not only through stepped up military supplies but also through timely troop movements along China's borders.

People continue to ponder over the question - Did India indeed have a plan to roll into Pakistan, as Bhutto, Yahya and Nixon feared? Who was the CIA mole in Delhi who fed them this information and started the whole rigamarole? It was obviously a very senior asset.

Kissinger writes - A report ( 8th Dec?) reached us from a source whose reliability we had never had any reason to doubt and which I do not question today, to the effect that Prime Minister Gandhi was determined to reduce even West Pakistan to impotence: she had indicated that India would not accept any General Assembly call for a cease‐fire until Bangladesh was “liberated”; after that, Indian forces would proceed with the “liberation” of the Southern part of Azad Kashmir—the Pakistani part of Kashmir—and continue fighting until the Pakistani army and air force were wiped out. He added in his memoirs that Anderson never understood the strategical significance of all this.

In subsequent years, many allegations were leveled at prominent people in power, but nothing ever came out of those allegations. Indira Gandhi stated that no such discussion took place in any cabinet meeting (the details of which had purportedly been sent as a cable by the mole, confirming India’s intent to invade West Pakistan) according to Srinath Raghavan. The mystery still remains.

Anyway, as all this ended, many Indians were left with some distrust of America, while Kissinger moved on to work with new masters, after muttering to Ambassador Keating, "the President has a special feeling for President Yahya. One cannot make policy on that basis, but it is a fact of life”. Interestingly we can see from Kissinger’s memoirs that he is still mystified at why he and Nixon did not get any Congressional or public support for what they staunchly believed in – that India was at fault and Pakistan was in the right, as well as the US response. He says - But neither our briefings nor the overwhelming expression of world opinion softened media or Congressional criticism.

But there was still some humor to take back - When discussing the final, feeble UN resolution (where Bush termed India as the aggressor), Kissinger told the UN Ambassador, George W Bush - “don’t screw it up the way you usually do.” to which Bush Senior replied, “I want a transfer when this is over. I want a nice quiet place like Rwanda.”

This was all long ago, and life today, so also the world, has changed drastically, with another cold war looming at the horizon, though the players are pretty much the same. It is all difficult to track, and to put simply, as I do often - Geopolitics is best understood by those in power, not mere mortals like us!

References
The Blood Telegram – Nixon, Kissinger & a forgotten genocide – Gary J. Bass
1971 A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh - Srinath Raghavan
Revisiting the 1971 ‘USS Enterprise Incident’: Rhetoric, Reality and Pointers for the Contemporary Era – Raghavendra Mishra
Superpower naval diplomacy in the Indo-Pakistani CRISIS - James M. McConnell, Anne M. Kelly
Operational Aspects of the 1971 War in the Maritime Domain - Srikant B. Kesnur, M. Doraibabu and Ashish Kale
Nixon, Kissinger, and the "Soviet Card" in the U.S. Opening to China, 1971–1974 - Evelyn Goh
Indo-US Relations, 1947-71: Fractured friendship - Shri Ram Sharma
The White House Years, 1968-72 – Henry Kissinger

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The Travancore National and Quilon Bank debacle

The crash of the Travancore National and Quilon bank and the involvement of Sir CP in the affair is known to many old-timers. Those who had thrown their lot with the Matthen’s and Mammen’s side of the story laid the blame squarely on Sir CP, opining that it was his vendetta against the Christian lobby. CP’s supporters, on the other hand, blamed Matthen, the Christian lobby, and the bank’s erroneous ways. Left leaners made it clear that it was all to do with TNQB’s support for the up-and-coming State congress and the demands for responsible government, plus the implementation of democratic reforms in Travancore. A veritable mess indeed!

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Mangala Bai, an accomplished artist

The Kochu Chothi Tirunal Amma Tampuran of Travancore (1866-1953)

When we dwell on Kerala painters, we tend to focus on Ravi Varma, and indeed he was accomplished and over time, very popular. However, others around him tend to get mentioned only in passing, like Raja Varma, his brother, and traveling companion. Raja Varma was also very good at his work and often completed his brother’s work or collaborated with him on his paintings. And there were a few others like Kunjan Warrier, who helped out at his studio in Travancore. Behind the two brothers, mostly hidden and rarely mentioned is his younger sister, Mangala Bai. There have been some mentions of her in recent news reports, a more detailed outline of her life was provided by Travancore’s chronicler Sharat Sundar Rajeev and a fine study of her life and work can be found in Dr. LP Daniel's thesis. For the benefit of a wider audience, I can summarize those, adding a little bit more.

Ravi Varma’s contemporary siblings were his brother C. Goda Varma (1854-1904, a musician), his brother C. Raja Raja Varma or Raja Varma (1860-1905) the painter and his sister Mangala Bai Thampuratti (1866-1953), also a painter. It is also very important to note here, that Mangala was potentially the first Indian woman artist. A major input to this article is a short introduction to the painter, by a yesteryear Travancore historian named R Kulathu Iyer. Since it is published in a very old newspaper (Madras Mail dated 8th August 1907), which is difficult to access, I will post it verbatim, quoting Iyer, the then King Rama Varma Valia Koil Thampuran’s private secretary. The article also provides several bits of information otherwise not easily available.

QUOTE

A Travancore Lady Artist, by R Kulathu Iyer

Very few people in India have not heard of the great Indian artist, the late Raja Ravi Varma whose death was such a great loss to the country and especially to Travancore. His brother, Mr. C. Raja Raja Varma, another capable artist, died a few years before him, but it is satisfactory to see that his sister, Mangala Bai, is in no way inferior to Ravi Varma as an artist, and it is hoped that she will maintain the high reputation once established by her family. Mangala Bai, who was born on the 6th March 1866, in her ancestral house of Kilimanoor, is generally known outside the family circle as “Kochu Chothi Tirunal Amma Tampuran." Her mother, Makayiram Tirunal Amma Tampuran, was a talented and highly accomplished lady, who was endowed with musical and artistic tastes and was the author of several Sanskrit and Malayalam works. About this lady the late Mr. C Raja Raja Varma, the artist says in his diary.

My mother was born under the star Makayiram in the month of Medam 1007 M.E. She was the youngest of my grandmother's eleven children. She had a very fair complexion. She was rather below medium height and was very delicately formed. She was endowed with musical and artistic tastes, though she had no opportunity of cultivating them. She had an extremely kind and tender heart and could never see any suffering in others. I had seen her crying when she listened to tales and accounts of human suffering and misery. She was attacked with a sort of eye disease from which she suffered long, but she took advantage of the illness to learn Ophthalmology or the science of treating eye diseases from the various physicians who treated her and notably from a Thirumulpad of Naikunnam. She knew also to treat ordinary ailments of children. She appears to have given certain medicines to Her Highness the late Senior Ranee, C. I. The Ranee had cherished a great regard for the lady as some of the letters from the former to the latter testify. She had such self-sacrificing heart that she treated poor women and children gratis giving them medicines and clothing. She composed in Malayalam verse a Thullal called Parvathiswayambaram and several stray versus. Parvathiswayambaram has been published by my second brother Goda Varma at his expense. She was a great devotee of Siva and Parvathi, and when the disease (consumption) laid its icy hand on her about the latter part of her life, she devoted most of her time to prayers and worship. A melancholy circumstance connected with her death was that she had not her eldest son by her side when she died in the month of Makaram 1062. When her last illness took a serious turn, we all gathered round her bed, but a day or two previous to her death, urgent business compelled my elder brother Ravi Varma to go to Trevendrum. From the next day she began to sink, and she began to ask until she became unconscious, if he had returned. When we saw that she had not many hours to live, a man was sent post haste to Trevendrum to give him information of his condition and he arrived to his deep sorrow an hour or two after her death. Her obsequial ceremonies were celebrated by my brother Ravi Varma. When the year of mourning passed, he and myself took a pilgrimage to Benares with an urn containing her ashes which we duly consigned to the holy Ganges. So let her soul rest in peace. We regretted very much that we neither painted her portrait nor even photographed her while she lived. Her portrait was painted from….. memory and it is a fairly accurate likeness.

The father of Mangala Bai was Neelakanta Bhattathiri, of Ezhamavu Illam, a respectable Nampoory family in the Kunnathunad Taluq of North Travancore. He was well versed in the Vedas and a specialist in the diseases of children. Mr. C. Raja Raja Varma writes of him as follows in his Diary: -

My father's name was Ezhumavil Neelakantan Bhattathiri. He was 72 years of age at the time of his death in 1073. He was well versed in the Vedas and took a real interest in the artistic careers of his sons. He belonged to a rich family, but was reduced to very straitened circumstances through the extravagance of his brother's son, who was managing his household. His house and property were attached by creditors, and to aggravate his distress his brother's daughter though much advanced in years, remained unmarried for want of means. It was my brother Ravi Varma who gave the dowry for the girl's marriage, redeemed the house and a portion of the property, and saved the family from ruin. Our father used to express his gratitude with tears of joy. The bust of my father was painted in 1072 when he was stricken down with paralysis, which proved fatal a few months later. He died at Kilimanoor our ancestral house. While laid up he was carefully nursed and attended upon by our sister (Mangala Bai) as we were all sway from home.

Thus, both the mother and father of Mangala Bai were well educated and of liberal views. Mangala Bai, was the youngest of the seven children of her mother. Three of her sisters died in infancy. Her three brothers were Raja Ravi Varma (the late artist), Goda Varma, the father of Mr. Ravi Varma Raja, M. A., B.L, Deputy Collector in the British Service, Mr. C. Raja Raja Varma, another great artist (portions of whose diary I have extracted above). It was from their mother that Mangala Bai and her brothers inherited the taste for music and fine arts. When Mangala Bai was five years old she was placed under Govinda Pillay Asan, the family preceptor, who was a clever astrologer and who had a fair knowledge of Sanskrit and Malayalam, which languages Mangala Bai studied under him for a few years. She was also given lessons in music by the family music teacher, Subramania Bhagavathar, and continued her musical studies until a few years ago under the tuition of the late Mr. Raghupathy Bhagavathar, one of the musicians attached to the palace of H. H. the Maharajah of Travancore. She has a rich, sweet voice and sings several of the songs composed by the late Swathi Thirunal Maharajah, Thyagaraja Krithi, etc. On several occasions she has been called to the Court of Their Highnesses the late Senior and Junior Ranees at Trevandrun to sing, and has been presented with rich awards. H. H. Lakshmi Bai, C.L., the late Maharanee, who was a great authority on music, was often known to have remarked that she was particularly pleased with the sweet voice of her " dear Mangala."

Mangala Bai has not studied English, as that language was not generally taught formerly to the female members of the Koil Tampuran family. In her eighth year her uncle, Mr. Raja Raja Varma, the then artist Koil Tampuran, took her as one of his students in his drawing class, where she soon exhibited her inherent taste for the subject. One day one of Raja Raja Varma's students, who was in the advanced class, was executing a miniature painting on ivory, of Vishnu Maya playing with a ball. In the evening, while he was examining his students' works, Raja Raja Varma finding a mistake in the loose cloth about the divine image, called all his students and asked them to point out the flaw. After having examined the picture, they unanimously declared that there was none, but Mangala Bai soon discovered the mistake. This greatly pleased her uncle and thereafter he personally looked after her training. These lessons continued till after her marriage to Damodaran Nampoory, where they had to be stopped, owing to the custom prevalent among them that females would not mingle with other men after a certain age. Her brothers (Raja Ravi Varma and C. Raja Raja Varma) too, had no opportunity of giving her any instructions in the painting of figures, except when they happened to visit Kilimanoor (the family house).

After the death of her uncle, Mr. Raja Raja Varma in 1883, Mr. Ravi Varma occasionally helped Mangala Bai with canvas, colour, etc. and she worked alone with her brother’s paintings as models. Though an amateur painter, her works are appreciated by many. Mr. Ravi Varma was often heard to remark that had his sister been a man, or had she had the opportunity of studying painting systematically, she would have become one the first artists of the day in India. She has painted pictures of Hindu gods and goddesses and also some portraits at the request of several of the leading gentleman of Malabar. The recent bereavements-the unexpected deaths of her three brothers, which happened within three years-have been the greatest blow to her. She is left all alone out of the seven, and is at present occupied in painting portraits of her brothers. Her painting of Raja Ravi Varma is to be exhibited in the next Fine Arts Exhibition at Madras, and it is hoped that it will be the precursor of others to come.

Mangala Bai is the mother of two sons and one daughter who are also gifted with artistic and musical tastes. The two brothers, who are named after their uncles Ravi Varma and Raja Raja Varma are now studying the art of painting under their mother. Her eldest son Ravi Varma has painted two pictures and presented them to the H.H the Maharajah of Travancore, who was very much pleased with them. Mangala Bai is a great supporter of female education. Several schoolgirls have received help from her hands and she tries as far as possible to ameliorate the position of the helpless poor. She is by nature of a mild and gentle disposition and very kindhearted. All will wish her long life and still greater success than she has hitherto achieved.

R. KULATHU IYER

Unquote

A little explanation for those interested – Thampuran, Thampuratty, Bai…For a long time, the terms Tampuratty was used for the high born (Thampuran for male) or women from prominent feudal families.  Bai was used typically for women in the Travancore royal family. Ammachi is the ruler’s spouse.

Now we can get to other accounts which are difficult to verify, but parts of published books and papers. It is a pity that we do not have access to her reminiscences, broadcast on AIR Trivandrum & Kozhikode on Nov 21st, 1951, when Mangalabai, aged 85 years among many other things, regaled the listeners with memories of her brother Ravi Varma, and mentioned that for her, art is the noblest asylum from the hue and cry of a life in distress. The introduction mentions that she was a painter of no mean talents and that her many paintings preserve a characteristic cheer and vitality. However, printed works mention just two of her paintings, a portrait of her illustrious brother Ravi Varma, and another one called Charity. Where are all the paintings that she did of her subjects in Malabar? I assume they have all been lost or forgotten or part of private family collections, yet to be curated.

It is believed that most of the inputs used by Balakrishnan Nair, the first biographer of Ravi Varma were obtained by him from Mangalabai according to Gayatri Sinha (Women artistes in India – Practice and patronage) and she also attributes the popular portrait of Ravi Varma sitting, holding a cane in his hand, to Mangalabai and not Raja Raja Varma, her brother. She too considers Mangalabai the first Indian woman artist of the 19th century, who worked within an atelier or a studio. Most people believe that she was an assistant in his studio, helping Ravi Varma complete his contracts or lending an inspector’s eye to his works in progress. That the brothers took her advice is quite clear and after the younger brother passed away, Ravi Varma was quite sick and had unsteady hands, so it is safe to assume that Kunjan Warrier and Mangalabai completed some of those fabulous paintings which we see at the Mysore Palace.

Deepanjana Pal too feels that Mangalabai, then in her twenties (Ravi in his 40’s and Raja in his late 20’s), helped the brothers often at the Kilimanoor studio, and assures us that the 1904 portrait of Ravi Varma, after he got his Kaiser I Hind medal, was done by her and that she was much more in demand than her nephew. She believes that the outlines were provided by Ravi Varma, and then Raja Varma and Mangala would fill in the surroundings and props. The painting work of the subject and the faces would always be carried out by Ravi Varma. She also tells us that Ravi would ask her and Raja Varma for their opinion in case he felt a bit unsure of anything.

Tapati Guha Thakurta opines, drawing from Balakrishna Nair’s biography of Ravi Varma, that she was part of the team which worked on the Baroda commission as well. She says - Ravi Varma’s sister, Mangalabai Thampuratty, in the family tradition of her uncle and brothers, was also an amateur oil painter who must have worked purely under the informal guidance of the family artists, and whose paintings never really moved out of the confines of the household. Her posthumous portrait of Ravi Varma from a photograph (titled ’Ravi Varma: my lamented brother’) and her painting of a woman giving alms to a beggar (titled ’Charity’) are about the only known specimens of her work. Her eldest son, K.R. Ravi Varma, was the other member of the Ravi Varma family to acquire a full and formal art education at the Sir J.J. School of Art in Bombay, and he returned home to found and head a similar smaller institution in Trivandrum: the Travancore School of Art (sometime between 1910 and 1913).

Priyanka Prachi adds - Anjali Purohit, an artist based in Mumbai, explains “Men are seen as professional from the moment they start working as artists. Women have to prove their credentials because they’re seen to have other competing priorities – children, the family” (Roy). This mindset leads to an unconscious bias that reflects in disparity in pricing of their works with respect to male artists. Mangala Bai Thampuratty (1866-1954) was the first woman artist of 19th century India to own a studio. She showed great expertise in representing realities in her canvases, which mostly revolved around domestic and devotional themes. Mangala Bai was an undeniably skilled artist with a remarkable dexterity which she executed in her oil paintings, but also in her realistic approach to subject matter which were often personal and autobiographical in nature. It was a taboo for noblewomen of the upper class to take up painting as a vocation, and so Mangala Bai explored all the possibilities of her potential but within the limits that were agreeable to society.

Lakshmi Priya Daniel worked on the subject of women artists in South India for her doctorate thesis and her work based on interviews of the artist’s family provides great insight into Mangala Bai’s work. She says - Though not a prolific painter, Mangala Bai on the other hand was undeniably skilled, as her works indicate such as the portrait of Ravi Varma. This matronly figure at the threshold of modern Indian art hardly finds more than a mention in most books, but her works show remarkable dexterity not only in the way she handled the medium of oil but also the technique, the realistic approach and the subject matter she chose to depict which was often personal and autobiographical. Mangala Bai, in all probability, lacked the opportunity to explore all the possibilities of her potential, but within her limitations produced commendable works which show her continued allegiance to Ravi Varma’s style of realism, combined with the same interest in portraiture, mythology and epic. Though Mangala Bai’s work had hardly been recognized in her time, she is today acknowledged as an artist in her own right. That she continued to paint till the very end is evident from the fact that one of the last paintings that Mangala Bai did was when she was eighty-four years old—a full-length oil portrait of Mahatma Gandhi.

Balakrishnan Nair’s book quotes Mangala as saying that Ravi Varma always accepted criticism and that she was taught painting by her uncle Raja Varma. She adds - I approached my brother only to clear doubts, and even that was impossible after my marriage, for as was the custom among us, it was not thought proper for a married woman to go near her brothers, however, one day, when I was returning after my bath, he asked me for my opinion of Tripurasundari, a painting in process. I mentioned that if the face were tilted to one side, the picture would be better and he magnanimously conceded that it was so. Daniel quotes an anecdote which goes that, while Ravi Varma was painting, he went away for a short duration, and on his return tried to swat away a mosquito sitting on his painting, only to find that it was painted - mischievously introduced by his sister Mangala Bai.

She continued her routines all through her 90 years working on the easel and teaching her nieces Bhavani Thampuratty, Bhagirathi Thampuratty, Rukmini Varma and Uma Varma among others (according to her great-granddaughter Mangala). Her oft-mentioned works are portraits of Ravi Varma, Rama Sita Parinayam, Parvati's Wedding, Alms Giving, Mookambika, Ayyappan at Kilimanoor, Krishna and Lions etc. Mangalabai had two sons, KR Varma who became a famous artist, and K Raja Raja Varma who was an engineer.

References


Madras Mail – 8th August 1907
Signatures of the collective self: a study of select contemporary South Indian women artists - Lakshmi Priya Daniel, PhD Thesis
Priya Daniel, Lakshmi (2016). Signatures of a Collective Self: A Study of Select Contemporary Women Artists from South India. Journal of International Women's Studies, 18(1), 52-72.
Local/Global – Women artists in the 19th century – (Gayatri Sinha – Woman artists – practice & Patronage)
Westernisation and Tradition in South Indian Painting in the Nineteenth Century: The Case of Raja Ravi Varma (1848-1906) - Tapati Guha Thakurta
Priyanka, Prachi (2021). Quest for Selfhood: Women Artists in the South Asian Visual Arts. Journal of International Women's Studies, 22(3), 60-70.
The Painter - Deepanjana Pal
The Indian listener: vol. xvi. no. 47. (18th November 1951) page 4
Raja Ravi Varma: Painter of Colonial India– Rupika Chawla

Picture – Many thanks, provided by Sharat Sundar Rajeev

 

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Kannan Bombayo – The Jumping Devil

NP ‘Kunchy’ Kannan and his incredible life story

Back in those days, kids and adults went to see the circus, and the events under the big top fascinated us, be it the flying acrobats, the ferocious animals, the rubbery contortionists or the funny clowns. Many of the performers were youngsters from North Malabar, Tellicherry to be precise, so also the circus managers. But there was one whom we never saw, who had once enthralled thousands in the western world, setting a golden trail for others to follow. That was the diminutive NP Kannan, known in the west as Kannan Bombayo (Kannan from Bombay) – described as the jumping devil, the unrivaled wire rope jumper, the greatest funambulist ever, and the somersaulter extraordinaire! He was a byword in the lips of European and American circus goers, though hardly anyone had ever seen him perform in India. Well, when you read his story, you may wonder why fate was so unkind to him. Some said Hitler watched his performance at Berlin, and called him the ‘Indian jumping devil’, while others mention Roosevelt watching him from his wheelchair, performing in America. What do you think? Let’s find out.

Kalari’s were the arenas where young men practiced martial arts in medieval Malabar to become fighting machines. Malabar was famed for its 108 Kalaris and ballads testify to the feats of the many fighters, dueling in their time. When the British disarmed the region after the Pazhassi revolt and the Moplah disturbances, most of the Kalari’s of Malabar sunk into decadence, and the fighting techniques gradually degenerated into a performing art form, which people today term the ‘Kalaripayattu’. Up north in Tellicherry, however, young boys, mainly of the Thiyya caste continued to practice in Circus Kalaris and when they proved popular, found gainful employment in those traveling circuses. Nisha in her lovely book and research paper brings those ancient circus schools to life and introduces the master Keeleri Kunhikannan, the guru who trained our protagonist.

As the story goes, Keeleri Kunhikannan, after intensive training in various physical disciplines, returned to Tellicherry and decided that gymnastics and circus arts should be taught to aspiring youngsters. Whether he picked his skills from a European circus in Madras or from Chatre’s circus in 1887 is not clear, but he decided to start a school and later send his graduates, to Chatre’s Grand Indian Circus. Chatre’s circus itself came into being after Chatre watched the 1879 performance of the Royal Italian Circus led by Giuseppe Chiarini in Bombay. Chiarini who was touring India went bankrupt and it appears that Chatre purchased the Italian’s equipment. Keeleri eventually started his circus school, adjoining his house, at Chirakkara near Tellicherry, Kannur in 1888. The name of this institute was the ‘All India Circus Training Hall’.

Somewhat of a rebel and a non-conformist, Keeleri joined the Bhrama Samaj, but when his own community decided to outcaste him, he converted to Christianity and is said to have favored students from the fishermen’s (Mukkuva) community, for his new school. The students, both men and women, were trained to master skills such as the horizontal bar, varma chattam (frog), trapeze, rope dance, weightlifting, rings, foot juggling, pole, and wire items in this circus kalari. They went on to become famous names in many a circus company and soon, it became clear to aspiring youngsters that this was a route to stardom and riches. As Nisha puts it, these circus rings witnessed the heroic transformation of their lives.

Sreedharan Champad tells us - Kunchy Kannan was born in 1907 as the son of Eerayi Korumban, a lowly farmer at Chirakkara. One day Keeleri walking by, heard a child’s sobs and when he looked up, he saw the little child Kannan sitting on the high branch of a jackfruit tree. Tearfully the child told him that the fragrance of the ripe fruit had lured him there, and that he was afraid to climb down. Keeleri smiled and asked Kannan to jump into his hands, which he did. The boy NP Kannan was taken straight to the circus Kalari and a glorious acrobatic career began, at the age of seven.

Dominique Jando feels that the boy’s brother-in-law, OK Chandu was perhaps the one who taught him the tricks on a coir rope, which was quite elastic but required tightening often. Kannan, just five feet tall, soon became an expert at it, doing his rope summersaults (normal, twisted, and double back) high up with the rope about 13 feet above the ground. He made his acrobatic debut in 1917 at the Sheshappa Circus owned by Sandow Sheshappa, but it was in 1922 that he started the bouncing rope act at the Whiteway circus, presumably at Trichur. Kannan continued on for many years with the Whiteway Circus. In addition to performing, he managed parts of the troupe as well. Not quite content, he transferred between other circuses and some years later, left Indian shores. Most of the story of his short but brilliant life abroad, is brought to light in the riveting Canestrelli book. The Canestrellis were (and still are) an old and extended Italian circus family, with origins dating back to the mid-nineteenth century; they created their own circus in Padua circa 1903.

Kanna’s fate was decided when the Canestrelli troupe touring Asia with the Harray Handy Circus and later the Isako’s Royal Circus, finished their acts in Malaysia and returned once again to India for their final performances New Delhi, after which they would depart from Colombo to Czechoslovakia in March 1931. They had a 6-week gap, and it was decided to go and to perform with Keeleri’s Circus in Kerala during this idle time. It was during that visit that they met Kunchy Kannan, the tumbler and summersaulter. Ottavio Canestrelli states - A frail, yet resilient young man, Kunchy was an outstanding tumbler and proficient in the extremely difficult round off double back somersault. He was also chief instructor of the circus apprentices and in charge of a group of some thirty children who were being trained for all kinds of acts in the Keeleri Circus. However, Kunchy’s foremost talent resided upon the bounding rope.

Kannan struck a friendship with Ottavio’s younger brother Federico and when it was time for the Italians to leave, mentioned his desire to accompany the troupe to Europe. Ottavio thought about it and decided that it could work out as a decent business proposition and the Indian jumping rope act could become popular. Thus, it was all firmed up and as Kannan already had his passport, the travel was not an issue. The voyage was uneventful, and the team stayed at Venice for a while and later proceeded to Bratislava to join up with the Kludsky Circus.

Canestrelli went on to modernize Kannan’s rope act, he had the coir rope substituted by manila and elastic, the bamboo cross poles at either end were changed to more stylish steel tubes. After a nine-month practice session on the new apparatus with safety belts, Kannan was finally ready for performances, with the rope strung at a 12’ height. Kannan’s act was added during the last two months at Kludsky’s circus and was well received and soon became a sensation, so much so that the Canestrelli team received much acclaim and got the attention of America’s foremost entertainer – John Ringling. They signed a contract with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey’s Circus, then considered the greatest show on earth. Before traveling to America, another important event occurred, the group traveled to pick up and train Canestrelli’s sister-in-law Filomena Lentini for the ladder act.

Kannan Bombayo, the making of the name

Pat Valdo, the art director of Ringling Circus wanted Kunchy Kannan to be given a nickname palatable to the American audience and Ottavio chimed in with Bombayo – which was quickly accepted as it ‘sounded "Indian" enough to an American ear, and was easy to pronounce’. He was introduced with much fanfare, his exceptional skill impressed all the administrators and the press and publicity departments and even before the show opened his name created a buzz.

Dominique Jando explains - Kannan Bombayo was one of the featured highlights of the new show, which also included The Codonas, Dorothy Herbert, the original Wallendas, and Hugo Zacchini —not too bad a company for an American debut! Kannan Bombayo was featured in the center ring and given a spectacular entrance, a true production number in which the Canestrelli family participated, including Ottavio who opened the proceedings parading a giant python named Satana (which he had acquired in Singapore at the beginning of his South-East Asian tour), before Kunchy’s own entrance mounted on an elephant, with another python looped around Kunchy's shoulders.

Marriage to Filomena

It was in America that Filomena and Kannan fell in love and decided to get married. Kannan converted to Christianity and the 22-year-olds were married in San Antonio, Texas on September 19, 1932. Canestrelli adds - Their marriage happened to coincide with the annual meeting of “Circus Fans of America,” and this grandest of all circus fan clubs honored Filomena and Bombayo with a gigantic Mexican-style party, complete with Mexican music and hot tamales. They threw the party outdoors and used the personnel coaches of the circus train as a sidewall.

Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus

With the 1933 season beckoning, a segment of the Barnum Bailey team which included the Canestrellis and Kannan Bombayo, found themselves transferred to the Ringling sister unit, i.e., the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus, where Kannan was soon to star as a solo performer which his own advertisement poster. It was even grander and his entrance on an elephant and accompanied by a parade of showgirls in oriental costumes. It also included an act featuring Bombayo, ‘The Man from India’, leaping over elephants.

Europe

Kannan’s success stories from America reached the circus owners in Europe and soon the prestigious Bertram Mills circus, signed Kunchy and Filomena. It has been mentioned that on the opening night, Kannan Bombayo performed in front of Prince George, the Duke of Kent. The performances were top-notch and spectacular, so Cyril Mills signed Kannan for the 1935 Bertram Mills touring season as well.

The terrible accident

Kannan was back in the US and getting ready to complete his last touring season with Hagenbeck-Wallace, but by then the old team had split, with Ottavio transferred to the AIG Barnes unit. Kunchi performed with his wife Filomena and with Ottavio gone, the catcher under the rope was Lalo Codona, who was not quite used to some of the intricate details in Kannan’s repertoire. It appears that Kannan often hesitated for a moment just before throwing his double somersault— something which could mess the trick’s tempo and result in bad consequences. And, well, that happened once, Kannan missed his double summersault, and Lalo, taken by surprise by the missed timing, was unable to catch him or break his fall. Kunchy fell on his back and lay stunned for a while, but got back eventually. Unfortunately, he suffered a lung contusion that was neither detected, diagnosed nor treated.  Kannan continued with his rigorous exercises and training, not taking any rest, exacerbating the illness and soon his weakened lungs made him prone to frequent lung infections.

Back to the UK

Back in the US, Kannan performed for the Al Sirat Grotto Circus in Cleveland, Ohio, his final US 1935 performance, and the couple moved back again to London to tour for the Bertram Mills Circus. Happy tidings were at hand, the couple was blessed with a little boy, whom they named Charlie. He would also perform in Paris for the legendary Cirque Medrano, where he was a big hit. Here, he reunited with Lalo Codona, the catcher, but I suppose such was the admirable camaraderie in the circus community, they paired for Kannan’s act. Reporting the act, the famous French circus chronicler Serge admiringly dubbed Bombayo "le félin du câble" ("the feline of the wire") in the magazine Coemedia.

The 1935 Evening Telegraph report on the Arbroath night stated – Bombayo the Hindu, a wiry little chap in a unique tight rope act with a dash of acrobatics thrown in! The Fife free press covering Kircaldy mentioned – On the slack wire, Bombayo, the Hindoo performed amazing feats of evolution and balancing, culminating in a remarkable double summersault. This is an act which requires accurate timing and judgement and yet, Bombayo made it appear almost easy to execute! Other papers mentioned how he received repeated rounds of applause for his breathtaking acts, which made a viewer dizzy.

The 1936 western mail stated thus about the night at Plymouth – There was young Bombayo, the Hindoo, who leaping on his tight rope, turned a double summersault in the air and landed steadily on his feet on the rope again. He is claimed to be the only person in the world who can do this trick. He jumped up and down on his rope 10 ft above the arena, like a jack in the box!

The Mercury and Herald stated that his acts (in 1937) provided the last word in tight rope performances while The Daily mail of August 1937, reviewing the Bertram mills opening night at Hull stated – A neat little aristocrat is Bombayo, the Hindoo, in his dress of gold and his tiny golden slippers. With slow controlled grace which comes close to invitation, he bounces about on a tight rope….Wonders in equilibrium demonstrated by Bombayo – said the Belper news.

The most interesting press report was an article in the Leeds Mercury July 1937 – Caravan cookery – Real Indian Curry – I (Shirley Oliver) found Mrs. Bombayo cooking a curry for her Hindu husband and her little three-year-old son. She was putting all sorts of exciting things into olive oil, butter, onions, a little carrot, fresh peas, sliced potatoes, apples, and a little meat. Plenty of curry sauce and some hard-boiled eggs were added. The rice was served separately ---- each grain was separate., Grated coconut was served in a separate dish with the curry.

Bombayo and dignitaries – Hitler, Roosevelt, Mussolini

It is said that Hitler saw his act at the Berlin Wintergarten performance, but there is little corroboration, though his performance did take place in 1936. The black and white photo with Filomena under the rope is taken by Willy Pragher. All we do know is that Hitler and Goring used to watch circuses, and whether he made the comment ‘flying devil’ is unclear. Hitler was, according to a CIA report, particularly fond of tight rope acts and even contacted or rewarded acrobats, who he felt were good. So, it would not be surprising if he noticed Kannan, examined his shoes as rumored and gave him an autograph titling him ‘the jumping devil’. Similarly, the meeting with FDR - Roosevelt sounds unlikely as FDR’s connections with the Ringling Bros was in 1942, so much later. Another article said Mussolini saw him off in his final voyage to India, but that is also uncorroborated and seems unlikely.

Serge who interviewed him in 1937 wrote - When I approached him, in a large international circus where he was playing star, he first offered me his smile, his mysterious smile. He was leaning against the side of the red curtain which, in a few minutes, was going to swallow it up. He wore a sumptuous Hindu costume of white silk, trimmed night blue and studded with brilliants. He had covered his shoulders with an immense, silky cape, which gave him the appearance of a conspirator, come from the sun. An Indian turban completed the ensemble. I saw his pupils and, unwittingly, I suddenly realized that this man was sentenced to death. So suddenly, for no apparent reason, Bombayo the Indian broke all his commitments, tore up his contracts, packed his trunks and sailed for his native India. We thought he was going to come back. But he alone knew. A great langueur had taken hold of him….

Nevertheless, Kannan spent 1938 performing at a number of theaters in Scandinavia and Germany.

Time to heal

Though the name Kannan Bombayo still spelled magic in the circus community, he was a weakened man and had contracted Tuberculosis, which in those days was a terminal disease. Filomena hid it from him, and eventually Kannan understanding that he had to rest and recuperate, canceled a program with Circus Busch.

Filomena and Kannan then went to Naples to rest at the Lentini family home, but I guess it was all too late, nothing much could be done, and Filomena decided that it was time to take her husband back to India, so that he could die in his motherland. So sadly, in February 1939, Kannan, Filomena and their five-year-old Charlie set sail for India.

The last days

Kannan Bombayo was never to see his homeland again. He died near Athens, two days before reaching Bombay, on February 18, 1939. As was the practice, the ship’s captain suggested a sea burial, but Filomena contacted Ottavio and the decision was made to conduct his last services at Bombay.

It is more appropriate to quote Ottavio now - Unbeknownst to Filomena, many fans, friends, and relatives were preparing an enormous surprise welcome at the dock in Bombay for Kunchy Kannan; the first great circus star out of India. On hand to welcome him were over a hundred people, including city officials, former pupils, great performers from all over India, newspapermen, photographers, and, of course, Professor Keeleri Kunhikannan, the proud uncle who had launched Kunchy’s career many years earlier. The dock was alive with excitement as the crowd waited to greet Bombayo. People were holding welcome banners, flowers, and a band played Indian melodies. But there was no Bombayo. Still adjusting to the tragedy, Filomena sought out Professor Keeleri as soon as she could find him. With tears in her eyes, she related the story of Kunchy’s accident, the tubercular condition, and the fact that he had died on board the ship two days earlier. She said this as she held on to the hand of their six-year-old son. It was a tremendous blow to all when Keeleri announced this to the welcoming party. Many began to weep, and some fell on their knees to pray. When they learned that Kunchy had changed his religion, many of them became superstitious and believed his death to have been the result. The party quickly broke up, and the body of Bombayo was brought off in silence. Kunchy Kannan had indeed come home, but in a way that no one anticipated.

Bombayo’s body was apparently cremated at the Sabari Crematorium and his ashes were then buried, presumably at Sewri.

Filomena after Bombayo

A July 1940 report shows that Filomena (now presented in the circuit as Mrs Kannan Bombayo) was performing as a ringmaster for the Rosaires Circus - the program under her direction comprising two individual and one group riding acts, roller balancing, two pony numbers, flying rings; performing bear, pooch and lion acts presented by a parson's son, Martin Hawkes; trick cycling and clown entrees….

As Jando puts it - Filomena and Charlie spent a couple of weeks with Keeleri Kunhikannan, and returned to Italy. She then went to England, where she remarried. Kunchy's son, Charlie, died at a young age …. She had another child to whom she gave her former married name, Kannan.

A few others picked up and presented his routine, after his passing - As you will recall, Kannan Bombayo not only did the backward summersault but also the forward double somersault. His sister-in-law, the ‘Italian circus queen’, Tosca Canestrelli seems to have mastered the trick after Kannan’s death.

Bombayo’s days were different from those today. In a period where opportunities were scarce, Kannan accepted huge challenges and decided to prove to the world that he was ‘the king of the ropes, which he did. He was fortunate to have his Canestrelli sponsors, but the hard work was his. Sadly, his days were cut short by that unfortunate fall, and while he lorded of the ropes for just seven years, is still remembered as one of the greatest circus artists of the twentieth century.

References

The Grand Gypsy – a memoir – Ottavio Canestrelli, Ottavio Gesmundo
The Jumping Devils: A tale of circus bodies – Occasional NMML paper – PR Nisha
Jumbos and Jumping devils, A social history of Indian Circus – PK Nisha
An Album of Indian tops – Sreedharan Champad
Kannan Bombayo – Dominique Jando (Circopedia)
Histoire du Cirque (Paris, Librairie Gründ, 1947) - Serge

I would like to specifically acknowledge with thanks, the original works of Nisha, Ottavio and Dominique, without whose inputs, this little article would not have taken shape.

Pics – All images courtesy Dominique Jando -http://www.circopedia.org/Kannan_Bombayo, acknowledged with much thanks

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The De La Hey case

The murder at Newington School, and its aftermath

I had only a vague idea about this infamous case, and it was never my intention to delve into it. Nevertheless, I was pulled into it by chance as I was studying the collection of Kavalappara papers and saw a mention of a Parvathy Nethiyar withdrawing her ward from the Newington School in Madras in 1916. A bit intrigued, I googled the school, only to realize that this was the one that featured the De la Hey murder of 1919. Then, I picked up the biography of Lakshmi Sehgal, to complete my previous article on the Azad Hind bank and Yellappa. Again, chance intervened, and there on page six was the De la Hey case and its effect on her. Now interested, I collected and perused quite a bit of material on this case, which involved a cricketing principal, his wife, the minor wards of many the ‘Polygar’ Zamindars of Tiruneveli region. It involved many people familiar to readers of my articles, such as Lakshmi Sehgal, her father S Swaminadhan, Mrinalini Sarabhai, KP Keshava Menon etc. The story is quite engaging and believe it or not, is one of those cases which still remain cold.

If you recall, when the EIC and the British rose to ascendancy in India, they governed their possessions directly, and indirectly controlled some princely states and minor Zamindar’s (large estates). The EIC established what was known as a court of wards to protect minor heirs of these Zamin’s. The idea was that these estates would be managed by the British on behalf of the heir, who would also be educated and nurtured through the offices of the Court until their maturity. One could spend hours arguing if they did it honestly or not if they really babysat or looted. Anyway, the plan was to bring these kids up as proper young men and for this purpose, Rajkumar colleges were set up in North India. In Madras, the institution which catered to the minor’s education was the Newington College, on Mount Road, near today’s Gemini flyover. Colloquially it was known as the Minor Bungalow since these young wards were called Minors.

The Newington at Teynampet, struggled to find talented pupils and plodded along, though you will come across a few educated Zamindars among its alumni. A couple of European tutors came to administer this institution and the most important ones were Cameron Morrison (who also wrote a geography textbook), Clement De La Hey, and Mr Yates.  Sir John Sinclair (Lord Pentland) a patron of the institution, tried hard to structure and support it, even laying a foundation stone for a better outfit in 1919, but as we will soon see, the new Rajkumar style school never came up and the old one was abruptly closed. Morrison retired and left back home, after 25 years of yeoman work. The ruins of that Minor bungalow, are situated across the congress grounds on Anna Salai, in the DMS complex.

Clement de la Hey arrived in India 1901/02 as a Newington tutor and remained. There are numerous reports of him receiving dignitaries touring the school, as well as participating and captaining cricket matches and picking many a wicket as a bowler, visiting estates and other locales with his wards (e.g., Rangoon), participating in hunts etc. After a couple of trips to Canada and reaching an age of 40, he decided to get married (during a visit to Britain in July 1918) and subsequently, brought his 26-year-old wife Dorothy Mary Phillips, home to Madras. Soon the couple became parents to a little boy, Antony.

The Newington College was not only an educational institution but also the home to most of the minor male wards, as well as the De La Hey’s. At the time of the incident, there were in addition to the De La Hey family, their Ayah Harriet and attendant Ponnuswamy, nine young - minor Zamin’s as well some of their manservants. The Maravar wards were from the Tinnevelly palayam’s of Singampatti (aged 16), Kadambur (aged 18), Urkad (brothers aged 17 and 12), Thalivankottai (aged 13), as well as the Andhra Zamins of Berikai (aged 18), Chundi (aged 19), Pedamerangi (aged 14) and Saptur (aged 18). Two teachers Dharma Rao and Rangaswamy Iyer taught the children Telegu and sciences, during the day sessions. The kids went on study tours, practiced hunting and shooting, and play games like cricket, tennis etc. While the Tamil speaking Singampatti, Kadambur and Urkad youngsters formed one cluster, the Thalivankottai (though Tamil, he was kept away by the former group as he was an adopted son of the Zamin), Berikai and Chundi boys formed another. Of the lot, Kadambur was not so well off, while Singampetti, the richest, and connected to the Urkad family was also linked to the powerful Setupati’s of Ramnad.

Connecting Singampatti, Urkad, and the Kadampur boys was a potential alliance with an Urkad girl named Doraichi (sister of the Urkad brothers) who lived nearby with a British guardian. She was originally supposed to wed the Kadambur boy, but he had turned her down after hearing rumors from the Thalivankottai boy, of some ‘immoral conduct’. The Singampatti boy was now being groomed up to take her hand. Among the boys, the only one interested in studies was the Kadambur lad, but he had been having issues with Clement De La Hay who was not too keen to recommend him to a school in Britain or allow him to study Sanskrit. The Kadamabur lad’s name was Seeni Vellala Sivasubramania Pandia Thalaivar and the Singampetti lads was TN Sivasubramania Sankara Theerpathi.

Another issue at hand was the poor performance of the school, which had been failing to attract good quality students. Lord Pendleton as well as the Ramnad ruler were in the process of setting up a school in the lines of the Rajkumar school and as it appears the plan was not to continue with Clement De La Hay, who had been given notice. As the rumors put it, he called the Ramnad Raja a ‘bloody nigger prince’ which the strong-willed raja took an affront to. Meanwhile, Morrison had gone on furlough to Britain, leaving De La Hey as the officiating principal. Interestingly, Clement’s sister Dorothy took over as the principal of the first women’s college, the Queen Mary’s, not too far, off Mount Road.

The Murder

On the evening of 15th October 1919, Clement returned late from the club and went up to his rooms. The other wards roomed on the second floor while Kadambur had his room on the ground floor (which was also storage for sporting goods and guns) and close to the tennis court. Around 12:30 a.m. a gunshot was heard by Dorothy, who lying in the next bed with her baby, woke up with a start. She then screamed for help after seeing Clement who was lying in a pool of blood in his bed, with the right side of his head blown off by a shotgun blast. The mosquito net had a large charred hole, to show that the gun was fired at close range. She also heard a thud soon after.

With that started the media furor over what came to be known as the Newington Scandal, the Kadambur Murder, or the De la Hey case. The case remained in the news for over a year, was heard, and decided in Bombay four months after the event. So, what happened, and who killed Clement?

The police concluded that the killing was the result of a late evening plan hatched by the Kadambur and the Singampetti wards. They were both taken into custody and the news media quickly indulged in sensationalist reporting. They published reports of the incident, one or two even going so far as to print that the Kadambur boy had admitted to shooting the principal (who had seemingly called him a black Tamil negro), hurting his sentiments and that he had written to his mother of his guilt and asking her to pay Mrs De La Hey a sum of Rs 10,000/- as compensation. Another report mentioned he turned De la Hey on his back to get a better shot. Singampatti’s father, well-connected in the Madras circles, swung into action, intent on freeing his son from custody. A renowned lawyer from Tellicherry, T. Richmond was retained as counsel for his son and in a few days, on the 24th, the Singampetti boy turned an approver implicating Kadambur as the murderer and himself as an unwilling bystander and witness. After the inquest, he was conditionally pardoned, leaving Kadambur in the dock.

It was then that S Swaminadhan, a leading criminal lawyer of Madras stepped in, to defend Kadambur, assisted by Ethiraj. Galvanized into action, they protested about the unfair and incorrect press reporting (KP Kesava Menon provided an affidavit attaching copies of all the nefarious reports) and the action of the Madras court, who after being pressured by the European residents, were trying to speed up closure with a guilty verdict on their client. They demanded that the case be heard elsewhere since the jury would be misled and influenced by the false reporting. Swaminadhan apparently rushed to Delhi to see the Governor-General and get a recommendation to transfer of the case. To cut the story short, the case was upon mutual agreement, shifted to Bombay, where surprisingly, the chief Justice Norman Macleod of the high court decided to preside himself, dressed in all his fine and pompous livery.

Meanwhile, Dorothy, Clement’s wife left India with the Madras court’s approval, stating that she feared for her life, nearing a nervous breakdown. This led to a number of rumors around her character, especially her relations with the young wards, while Clement was busy with his passion – cricket. The public felt that the British and the prosecuting counsel, sure that many skeletons would tumble out of the cupboard, had packed her off quickly to England.

The prosecution was confident that the case will be quickly done with, that Kadambur would be sentenced and jailed. They had not expected the wily Swaminadhan to get the case transferred to Bombay. To ensure that Kadambur was properly defended at Bombay, Swaminadhan & Ethiraj teamed up with RDN Wadia, a hot-shot Bombay lawyer. The prosecution team from Madras headed by Weldon arrived at Bombay with their entourage of clerks, translators, and assistants, as well as South Indian vegetarian cooks, with all the minor wards carefully prepared as witnesses, in tow.

Swaminadhan’s strategy was to attack the character of the state witnesses since the police had been insipid in their investigation, and little evidence had been unearthed. Neither had the police done a proper investigation nor had they built up a water-tight case. The motive, modus operandi, and timeline offered were at best, vague. The prosecution case relied fully on the approver’s statement and augmented it with corroborating statements of other minors. The defense decided to prove that both the approver as well as the supporting witnesses were lying and thoroughly untrustworthy. The cross-examination presented as a textbook example, by R K Soonavala, is a delight to read – Wadia, a skilled cross-examiner tore into the witnesses, i.e., the approver Singampatti and the minor wards and exposed the fact that they were being untruthful, and demolishing the prosecution’s case.

Mrs De La Hey’s testimony

Mrs De La Hey deposed on 20th Oct – On the night of the 15th instant, I went to bed at 9-30 p.m. The beds were one behind the other. I was in the bed nearest the bedroom. My husband was a sound sleeper but he could be waked up easily. He was asleep before I was. A terrific noise awakened me. I called to my husband but there was no reply. A moment later I heard a noise of something weighty being thrown outside. I then turned round and saw the curtain on fire, smoldering. I got up at once from the left side of my cot. I tried to awaken my husband. The curtain lit up. I saw him and knew what happened. I yelled. Immediately minor Berikai came down.  After him came in Chundi. Then I went to the office room. Then Singampati, Kadambur and Saptur came down. I noticed that Kadambur had only got his veshti on. Singampati was covered to the throat. I can absolutely swear to his being there. I cannot swear that he was covered to the throat. That was my impression. I noticed nothing particular about him. Singampati did not look at all natural and appeared totally frightened. Kadambur had his hands behind his back and stared at me all the time.

Prosecution case

Talavankode testified that Kadambur and Singampatti had conspired the previous evening, with Kadambur determining to shoot De La Hey dead (as he had been ridiculed by De La Hey) as well as anybody who interfered during the attempt. Talavankottai told Chundu and Berikai about this (Urkad Jr was also present), but none of them wanted to inform De La Hey of the plan as they feared Kadamabur. At 930 Talavankottai saw Singampatti and Kadambur with cartridges in their possession as well as two guns to Singampatti’s bathroom. After the shot was fired, a bleary-eyed Berikai lying in his cot, saw Singampatti and Kadambur come running up.

According to the approver and the witnesses, as well as the conclusion at the inquest, the following timeline was established. Berikai, going down, saw Dorothy crying, who then asked him to call the police. They came and found the 12-bore shotgun (usually stored in Kadambur’s room) at the porch, in which one chamber had a fired cartridge, and the other had a loaded but fouled cartridge. Thalivankottai, Urkkad brothers, and Chundi confirmed that the plan was hatched between Singampatti and Kadambur in the billiards room, that evening. Berikai mentioned that Singampatti had thrown his gun down three floors. The next day the second gun, loaded and some loose cartridges were found in the yard, but the gun had no damages after being thrown down from a height of 40’ (this was certified as impossible by a gun expert during the cross, proving that the guns were planted outdoors to match storyline).

Singampatti’s statement was not recorded at all, and eventually, he turned approver stating that he was pulled along by Kadambur, that he was to stand at the door while Kadambur shot De La Hay and that if anybody intervened, they were all to be shot and killed. Accordingly, they pocketed some cartridges and proceeded to the De La Hey bedroom, where Kadambur shot the man dead and they then ran upstairs and got rid of the guns, Singampatti throwing his over the balcony. He said he did not go down until the police came (but Mrs De La Hay had mentioned he had come and Singampatti later added that she was mistaken). SIngampatti also mentioned that Kadambur had shot De La Hey the same night, since others heard of his plan and if the act was not quickly committed, De La Hey would know of the plan the next day. Kadambur had also informed Urkad Sr who was happy with the idea.

Defense strategy

Wadia’s cross-examination exposed many inconsistencies and untruths. It also brought out the letter exchange between Kadambur and Singampetti in Tamil, and his father’s visits, which allude to Kadambur being set up by Singampetti Sr as the fall guy while Singampetti became an approver. He also exposed the possibility of the Urkad senior as an involved party, since the Urkad was the nephew of the Ramnad raja, who may have had the racial grouse against De La Hey, and the fact that Kadambur had declined to marry his sister. It also came to light that Singampatti Sr had assured Kadambur, during his jail visits at Madras, that Kadambur would be released later.

Another major problem was the prosecution’s inability in establishing a clear motive. Was it that one of the young Zamin’s was upset at a racial slur, was it so that the Ramnad Raja, upset with the slur, was it that Kadambur was unhappy because De La Hey had written to his mother, was it something to do with the boys and Mrs Hey, or was it because Ramnad did not want De La Hey to become the head of the upcoming Rajkumar school? Or for that matter, was it because De La Hey was against the home rule, or was it an act in haste by one of the temperamental Marava lads, whoever it may be, due to their inherent violent and irritable disposition?? None of these seemed serious enough to warrant murder. Wadia also touched upon the relation with Dorothy de La Hey, and Urkad Sr stated that he had ‘visited’ her often. Her departure in a cloud of suspicion, and her decision not to return to clear her name or be a part of her husband’s murder trial, stained her character indelibly.

Wadia during the cross implied that the conspiracy and shooting were planned by Urkad and Singampatti, with Singampatti as the shooter, since he was a good shot. Chundi mentioned that he saw somebody going up the stairs with a gun, a tall person with curly hair, purporting it to be Kadambur, but as it turned out, the description matched that of Singampatti. It also became clear that Kadambur was nervous with guns, that the one-shot kill had to be done by somebody steady and skilled, perhaps Singampatti. With crafty questions, Wadia proved that Urkad jr, Thalivankottai, and Singampatti were being untruthful. He also proved that Berikai could not have seen what he did, as he was not wearing his glasses and since it was quite dark. He also established that most or all of the witnesses, had a grouse against Kadambur, because he had exposed their misdeeds in the past.

In the end, Norman Macleod summarized succinctly and the jury ruled wisely, acquitting Kadambur of all charges.

Aftermath

Swaminadhan had a rough time after his victorious return to Madras. Until then he and his family were leading a happy life in the upper circles, hobnobbing with the British. His daughters Lakshmi and Mrinalini (and sons Govind and Subram) were studying in British schools, but after the case, found themselves shunned by the British who wanted no part with them. We will now follow the story through Lakshmi Sehgal’s and Mrinalini Sarabhai’s words. For those who do not know, Lakshmi Swaminadhan moved to Singapore, got involved in the Indian Independence League and Indian National Army activities, teamed up with Subhash Chandra Bose during the 2nd World War, and fought the British, herself leading the Rani ‘all women’ regiment.

Lakshmi Sehgal - The first jolt, however, came when my father (who, in spite of being a brilliant student of civil law, had built up a roaring criminal practice) took up the sensational Kadambur murder case - My father knew that before the Madras High Court bench, consisting of two English and one Indian judge, the young man would get no justice. So, my father made a special appeal to the Viceroy and had the case transferred to the Bombay High Court, the only one in the country where the full bench had an Indian majority. Here my father was able to use all the arguments in his arsenal to get his client totally acquitted…. For my mother and us children, however, the repercussions were different. Many of my mother's English friends refused to greet her and in school, I was accused by the English teachers of being the daughter of a man who by unfair means had saved a native who had brutally murdered an innocent English gentleman. Here I should mention that after finishing my SSLC I joined Queen Mary's Women's College, the principal of which was Miss Delahey, the sister of the man who had been killed. She could easily have refused to admit me but did not do so, and in no way did she show any resentment towards me…The Kadambur case marked a turning point in our lives. Gone was our admiration for the honesty, justice and fair play of the British. From that day on we were determined be genuine Indians and not imitation Britishers. We were taken out of the convent and put into the government high school. We stopped wearing English frocks and got into our more comfortable and attractive pavadai and blouse. We also spoke more in Malayalam and Tamil rather than the now-disliked English. This period also coincided with the appearance of Mahatma Gandhi on the national scene. We stopped wearing all foreign clothes and using other articles made outside our country. At this stage, my mother became an active member of the All-India Women's Conference and the Women's India Association of Madras.


Subbarama Swaminadhan passed away in 1930, and after a failed marriage, Lakshmi moved to Singapore where she eventually joined the INA in the fight against the British (another story, for another day). Mrinalini became an acclaimed dancer and married Vikram Sarabhai, a pioneer in India’s space exploration. I had written about Vikram and TERLS, some years ago.

Mrinalini devoted two pages to the case in her biography, she writes (I am adding just a few extracts) – The murdered man was very unpopular with his wards because of the harsh manner in which he meted out severe punishments to young zamindars. His obvious contempt for all Indians led to his tragic death. The record showed that the foulest language was used against the wards by De La Hay and he had had the audacity to call a leading zamindar, held in high esteem by the government, ‘that bloody nigger prince’…... A High Court judge in a casual conversation with the member about the case came to know that no arrangements had been made by the Court of Wards for the defense of other accused, Kadambur, and that the Court had no intention of having him defended. He suggested that they engage  Swaminadhan, the best lawyer in Chennai. My father took up the case and when he interviewed Kadambur, the boy swore innocence and showed great courage, a trait my father admired. Soon after, my father received a summons from the ‘higher ups’, to try and persuade him not to proceed with the case.

My father refused the summons but invited them to visit him at his office if they needed any counsel, while objecting strongly to his ward Kadambur being treated as a common criminal… Singampatti, who had become an approver, repeated parrot-like a cooked-up story and the preliminary enquiry was concluded with undue haste. After the court closed, my father visited Kadambur in jail and found he had been sent a letter in Tamil from his friend Singampatti begging forgiveness for his false statement in court, which he said he had been pressurized into writing by his father. My father immediately took the letter to the registrar of the High Court. However, as he felt that his client would not have a fair trial in Chennai, he asked for the case to be transferred to Mumbai though the Court of Wards threatened him against this decision. Things had come to a serious pass and even my father’s life was in danger……My father’s wise decision to transfer the case to Mumbai saved Kadambur.

A little bit about the Singampatti region – It is home to the fabulous Manjolai hill estates and the family has been closely linked to the Travancore royals over the years (Many will also recall the Ilayaraja song – Majolai kili thano). Situated at an altitude of 5000’ above sea level, the Manjolai hills still remain an unexplored region and are known as the poor man’s Ooty. The Singampatti zamindars leased those hills later to the Bombay Burmah Trading Corp, who set up a tea plantation. It is said that the lease was concluded to pay for the legal costs of Singampatti in the De La Hey case.

So, what do you think happened after the 1920 acquittal of Singampatti and Kadambur? Well, the estate of Mrs De La Hey sued the two boys in Nov 1920 for a Rs 10 lakhs compensation. The boys rejected the summons as they were still minor. Dorothy’s team tried again and it can be seen that Stanley Wadsworth, her barrister, managed to secure a Rs 60,000/- compensation from Singampatti, to settle the case, in 1922. Though this may imply that the Singampatti was culpable, the motive has not yet been ascertained, nor was the case investigated further or closed.

Dorothy de la Hey married again and emigrated to South Africa with her son Anthony. The case and public interest in it died over time, though the old-timers of Madras mention it often. It had an interesting outcome though, for it was after Swaminadhan’s efforts in this case, that criminal cases in India were tried by a majority of Indian judges. Swaminadhan’s son Govind, following his footsteps, became a brilliant lawyer, and we read of his involvement in the Alavander Case. The Lakshmikanthan case, another interesting story where Govind was an advocate, will be a future project.

References
News reports on the De La Hey case – Pioneer Mail, The Englishman, Straits times, Madras Weekly mail, Andhra Patrika etc
Children and Childhood in the Madras Presidency, 1919-1943 – Dr Catriona Ellis
Advocacy: Its Principles and Practice - Rustom Kavasha Soonavala
College of Vice – R P Aiyar (In the Crimelight)
Home office files – Transfer of case to Bombay, Proceedings Dec 1919, #118-124
Madras Musings – Vol X, 22 & 23 Gunshot at midnight, who killed De La Hey? – Randor Guy
Famous judges, lawyers, and cases of Bombay – PB Vachha
Revolutionary life – Lakshmi Sehgal
The voice of the heart - Mrinalini Sarabhai

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