_THE DOWNFALL OF ANGRIA_
Toolajee fights successful action with the Dutch--He tries to make peace
with Bombay--Alliance formed against him--Commodore William James--
Slackness of the Peishwa's fleet--Severndroog--James's gallant attack--
Fall of Severndroog--Council postpone attack on Gheriah--Clive arrives
from England--Projects of the Directors--Admiral Watson--Preparations
against Gheriah.--The Council's instructions--Council of war about
prize-money--Double dealing of the Peishwa's officers--Watson's
hint--Ships engage Gheriah--Angrian fleet burnt--Fall of Gheriah--Clive
occupies the fort--The prize-money--Dispute between Council and Poonah
Durbar--Extinction of coast piracy--Severndroog tower.
In the beginning of 1754, the Dutch suffered a severe loss at Toolajee's
hands. A vessel loaded with ammunition was taken, and two large ships were
blown up after a stiff fight, in which Toolajee had two three-masted grabs
sunk and a great number of men killed. Six months later, Toolajee sent an
agent to Bombay to propose terms of accommodation. They were terms to
which a conciliatory answer, at least, would have been returned in Conajee
Angria's time. The Council's reply betrays a consciousness of increased
strength. "Can you imagine that the English will ever submit to take
passes of any Indian nation? This they cannot do. We grant passes, but
would take none from anybody." Toolajee was told that if he was in earnest
in desiring peace, he should return the vessels he had taken, and send men
of figure and consequence to treat, instead of the obscure individual
through whom his overtures had come. In spite of this peremptory reply,
Toolajee continued to make half-hearted proposals for peace. The fact was
that he was now at open war with the Peishwa, who had made himself master
of the Concan, with the exception of the coastline. According to Orme,
Toolajee had cut off the noses of the agents sent by the Peishwa to demand
the tribute formerly paid to Satara. The Poonah Durbar were so incensed
against him that they were determined on his destruction, though without
the assistance of the English they had little expectation of success
against his coast fortresses. The Bombay Council was ready enough to join
in the undertaking, but was unwilling to take immediate action. This
unwillingness was apparently due to their desire to see order first
restored in Surat, where affairs had fallen into great disorder in the
general break-up of Mogul rule.
The Mahratta Court at Poona had been close observers of the long war waged
in the Carnatic between the English and French. They had seen Madras taken,
only to be regained by diplomacy, and after the English had been foiled at
Pondicherry. They had witnessed the rise of French power under Dupleix;
rulers deposed and others set up, in the Deccan and the Carnatic, by
French arms; and then, when Mahomed Ali, the rightful ruler of the
Carnatic, was at his last gasp, they had seen his cause espoused by the
English, and one humiliation after another inflicted on French armies,
till at last the French were forced to recognize Mahomed Ali's title,
while a powerful English squadron and a King's regiment had been sent out
to make good the claim. The good relations established between the
Peishwa's government and Bombay by the treaty of 1739, had been
strengthened since the arrival of Mr. Richard Bourchier, as Governor, in
1750; the fighting in the Carnatic had raised the military reputation of
the English, while their support of Mahomed Ali, whom the Mahrattas styled
'their master,' had greatly increased the esteem in which they were held.
When it was definitely known that hostilities between the English and
French were at an end, Ramajee Punt, the Sirsoobah of the Concan, was
dispatched to Bombay to concert measures against Toolajee. Mr. Bourchier
was urged to summon the King's ships from Madras to co-operate with the
Peishwa's forces.
To await the arrival of Watson's squadron from Madras would have lost the
favourable season before the monsoon, so it was determined to fit out at
once what ships were in the harbour, and send them under Commodore William
James. Articles of agreement were drawn up, by which it was settled that
Severndroog, Anjanvel, and Jyeghur should be attacked by the Mahrattas,
while the English engaged to keep the sea, and prevent Toolajee's fleet
from throwing succours into the places attacked. A division of the spoils
between the victors was agreed on, by which the English were to receive
Bankote and Himmutghur, with five villages, in perpetual sovereignty. The
Peishwa's fleet was to be under James's orders, and he was instructed to
give all the assistance in his power, but not to lend any of his people,
except a few to point the guns.
Very little is accurately known of James's career before his entry into
the East India Company's service. He was born in Pembrokeshire in humble
circumstances, and went to sea at an early age. According to one account,
he served in Hawke's ship, but, wherever his training was received, it had
made him a first-rate seaman. In 1747, he entered the Company's marine
service, being then about twenty-six years of age.
In 1751, he sailed from England in command of the _Guardian_ sloop, one of
the two men-of-war built by the Directors for the protection of Bombay
trade. His services against the coast pirates, during the next two years,
procured his advancement to the post of Commodore at Bombay, and it was
soon remarked that the sailing of the _Protector_, on which his flag was
now hoisted, had greatly improved by the changes he had made. By his
capture of Severndroog, now to be related, he became famous. He played his
part at the capture of Gheriah, and, in the following year, when the news
of the disaster at Calcutta became known in Bombay, he was sent down in
the _Revenge_, with four hundred men, to join the force sent up from
Madras under Watson and Clive. Off Calicut he encountered the French ship
_Indien_, carrying twenty-four guns and over two hundred men, and captured
her. He afterwards joined the board of Directors, was created a baronet,
had a seat in Parliament, and, in time, became chairman of the Company.
Sterne, in the last year of his life, formed a close friendship with Mr.
and Mrs. James, and, a few days before he died, recommended his daughter
Lydia to their care.
On the 22nd March, 1755, James sailed from Bombay in the _Protector_,
forty guns, having with him the _Swallow_, sixteen guns, the _Viper_
bombketch, and the _Triumph_ prahm. The following day, he sighted an
Angrian squadron of seven grabs and eleven gallivats, which he chased for
a couple of hours without success. Two days later, he was joined off Chaul
by the Peishwa's fleet, consisting of seven grabs, two batellas, and about
forty gallivats. To James's annoyance, he found his allies in no hurry to
get on. Twice they insisted on landing, lingering for over three days in
one place. On the 29th, Severndroog was sighted, and Angria's fleet of
seven grabs and ten gallivats was observed coming out. The signal to chase
was made, but obeyed with little alacrity by the Peishwa's people, though
experience had shown that they could outsail the Bombay ships. James gave
chase with his little squadron, his Mahratta allies being left, by evening,
hull down, astern. The Angrians made prodigious exertions to escape,
hanging out turbans and clothing to catch every breath of air. All the
following day the ineffectual chase continued, the _Protector_ outsailing
its own consorts, and losing sight altogether of its Mahratta allies.
Finding it useless to persevere, James hauled his wind, and stood to the
northward for Severndroog, which he had left far behind in the chase. Here
he found Ramajee Punt, who had landed a few men, and entrenched himself at
about two miles from the nearest fort, with a single four-pounder gun.
The harbour of Severndroog[1] is formed by a slight indentation in the
coast and a small rocky islet about a quarter of a mile from the mainland,
on which was the Severndroog fort, with walls fifty feet high, and, in
many places, parapets cut out of the solid rock; the whole armed with
about fifty guns. On the mainland, opposite to Severndroog, was another
fort. Fort Gova, armed with, about forty-four guns, while southwards of
Gova were two smaller forts on a small promontory, Futteh Droog and Kanak
Droog, armed with twenty guns each.
James at once saw that the reduction of the different forts by the
Peishwa's troops would be a matter of months, even if he was able to keep
out succours from the sea, which the monsoon would render impossible; so,
in spite of the Council's orders, he resolved on taking matters into his
own hands. He had been brought up in a good school, and knew that, to
match a ship against a fort with success, it was necessary to get as close
as possible, and overpower it with weight of metal. After taking the
necessary soundings, on the 2nd April he stood in to four-fathom water,
taking with him the _Viper_ and _Triumph_, and bombarded Severndroog fort.
The Mahratta fleet gave no assistance, so the _Swallow_ was detached to
guard the southern entrance. All day long the cannonade continued, till a
heavy swell setting into the harbour, in the evening, obliged a cessation
of fire. The fort fired briskly in return, but did little damage; while
the Mahratta fleet lay off out of range, idle spectators of the conflict.
At night came Ramajee Punt on board the _Protector_, bringing with him a
deserter from the fort, who reported that the Governor had been killed and
a good deal of damage done. He told them that it was impossible to breach
the side on which the _Protector's_ fire was directed, as it was all solid
rock.
In the morning, the _Protector_ weighed and ran in again, James placing
his ships between Severndroog and Gova. The flagship engaged Severndroog
so closely that, by the small arm fire of men in the tops, and by firing
two or three upper-deck guns at a time instead of in broadsides, the
Severndroog gunners were hardly able to return a shot. With her lower-deck
guns on the other side the _Protector_ cannonaded the mainland forts,
which also received the attention of the _Viper_ and _Triumph_. It would
be difficult to find a parallel to this instance of a single ship and two
bombketches successfully engaging four forts at once, that far outnumbered
them in guns; but so good were James's arrangements that neither his ships
nor his men suffered harm. Soon after midday a magazine exploded in
Severndroog; the conflagration spread, and, before long, men, women, and
children were seen taking to their boats, and escaping to the mainland.
Numbers of them were intercepted and taken by the _Swallow_ and the
Mahratta gallivats. The bombardment of the mainland forts was continued
till night, and resumed the following morning, till about ten o'clock,
when all three hauled down their colours. Thus, in forty-eight hours, did
James by his vigorous action reduce this Angrian stronghold that was
second only to Gheriah in strength. The Mahrattas were never slow at
seizing any advantage that had been won by others, as was shown a few
months later at Gheriah; but on this occasion they were so struck by
James's intrepidity that they refused to enter Gova without him. The
English flag was hoisted in all three forts, amid the cheers of the
English sailors. It was then found that, by mismanagement, the Governor of
Gova had been allowed to escape over to Severndroog, and gallantly
reoccupied it, with a small body of sepoys, hoping to hold out till
assistance could reach him from Dabul. So the _Protector's_ guns were set
to work again, and, under cover of their fire, a party of seamen was
landed, who hewed open the sally port with their axes and made themselves
masters of the fort. Thus, in a few hours, and without losing a single man,
had "the spirited resolution of Commodore James destroyed the timorous
prejudices which had for twenty years been entertained of the
impracticability of reducing any of Angria's fortified harbours."
The whole success of the expedition had been due to James, and the
Peishwa's officers ungrudgingly acknowledged the fact, as well as the bad
behaviour of their own people. "I have learnt with particular satisfaction
that the fleet your Honor sent to the assistance of Ramajee Punt have by
their courage and conduct reduced Severndroog, the suddenness of which
transcends my expectations; and I allow myself incapable of sufficiently
commending their merit," wrote the Peishwa's Commander-in-Chief to
Bourchier. Ramajee Punt wrote in similar terms, and sent a dress of honour
to James. In their elation, the Peishwa's officers wished to complete the
destruction of Angria without delay. Bankote was surrendered to them
without firing a shot, and a demonstration was made against Rutnaghiri.
But the Council was cautious, and forbade James to risk his ships. The
Mahrattas offered him two lakhs of rupees if he would support them in
attacking Dabul, but he dared not exceed his orders again, and returned to
Bombay. The success of a second _coup-de-main_ could not be relied on, and
a repulse would have restored Toolajee's drooping spirits, and made future
success more difficult. The soldiers Bombay had lent to Madras were no
longer required, so James was sent there in the _Protector_, to bring them
back after the monsoon.
In the end of October, an unexpected accession of force, from England,
reached Bombay. In the suspension of arms that had been concluded at
Madras between the English and French, Carnatic affairs alone were made
the subject of agreement. Bussy, with a French force, remained in the
Deccan, engaged in extending the Nizam's influence, a proceeding that was
viewed with alarm by the Peishwa. With the object of expelling the French
from the Deccan, the English Government sent out to Bombay a force of
seven hundred men, to act against Bussy, in concert with the Mahratta
Government. The command was to be taken by Lieutenant-Colonel Scott, the
Company's engineer-general at Madras. The Directors had also sent Clive to
Bombay to act as second in command to Scott. But Scott had died, in the
mean time, and the _Doddington_, East Indiaman, bringing the Directors'
instructions to the Bombay Council, had been wrecked near the Cape. Before
the middle of November, Watson's squadron arrived, in furtherance of the
Deccan project, together with James, in the _Protector_, bringing two
hundred and fifty-five Bombay soldiers from Madras. Clive, alone, knew of
the Directors' plan for the Deccan, and urged it on the Council. Ramajee
Punt was in Bombay urging them to complete the destruction of Angria, and
inviting them to take possession of Bankote;[2] so they decided to devote
themselves to Gheriah, on the grounds that the Deccan expedition would be
an infringement of the late agreement with the French.
Seeing that nothing was to be done in the _Deccan_, Watson tendered the
services of his squadron to assist in the reduction of Gheriah, and Clive
offered to command the land forces. James was sent down in the _Protector_,
with the _Revenge_ and _Guardian_, with Sir William Hewitt, Watson's flag
lieutenant, to reconnoitre and take soundings. Nothing was known of
Gheriah. It was supposed to be as high, and as strong as Gibraltar. Like
that celebrated fortress, it stood on rocky ground at the end of a
promontory, connected with the mainland by a narrow neck of ground, at the
month of a small estuary. James found that it was less formidable than it
had been represented, and that large ships could go close in. To prevent
Toolajee's ships from escaping, the _Bridgewater_, _Kingsfisher_, and
_Revenge_ were sent to blockade the place till the expedition was ready to
start.
On the 11th February, the whole force was assembled off Gheriah, a greater
armament than had yet ever left Bombay harbour. In addition to Watson's
squadron of six vessels, four of them line-of-battle ships, and displaying
the flags of two admirals, the Company's marine made a brave show of
eighteen ships, large and small, carrying two hundred and fourteen guns,
besides twenty fishing-boats to land troops with, each carrying a
swivel-gun in the bows. Between them they carried eight hundred European
and six hundred native troops. With Watson also went Captain Hough,
superintendent of the Company's marine, as representative of the Council.
Part of the instructions given to Clive and Hough by the Council will bear
repeating.
"It is probable that Toolajee Angria may offer to capitulate, and
possibly offer a sum of money; but you are to consider that this
fellow is not on a footing with any prince in the known world, he
being a pirate in whom no confidence can be put, not only taking,
burning, and destroying ships of all nations, but even the vessels
belonging to the natives, which have his own passes, and for which he
has annually collected large sums of money. Should he offer any sum of
money it must be a very great one that will pay us for the many rich
ships he has taken (which we can't enumerate), besides the innumerable
other smaller vessels; but we well remember the _Charlotte_ bound from
hence to China, belonging to Madras; the _William_ belonging to Bombay,
from Bengal; the _Severn_, a Bengal freight ship for Bussorah, value
nine or ten lakhs of rupees; the _Derby_ belonging to the Hon'ble
Company, with the Grab _Restoration_, value Rs.5,22,743-4-6; the sloop
_Pilot_ and the _Augusta_; also the _Dadaboy_ from Surat, _Rose_ from
Mangalore, Grab _Anne_ from Gombroon, _Benjimolly_ from the Malabar
coast, and _Futte Dowlat_ from Muscat."
The Council were desirous of getting Toolajee into their own custody,
fearful that, if left in Mahratta hands, he would be set free before long,
and the work would have to be done over again.
Before the expedition left Bombay, a council of war was held, to decide on
the division of spoils, between the sea and land forces. Such agreements
were common enough, on such occasions, in order to prevent subsequent
disputes and individual plundering. In settling the shares of the officers,
the council decided that Clive and Chalmers, who was next to Clive in
command of the troops, should have shares equal to that of two captains of
King's ships. To this Clive objected that, though as Lieutenant-Colonel,
his share would, according to custom, be equal to that of a naval captain,
on this occasion, as Commander-in-Chief of the troops, it should be
greater, and ought not to be less than that of Rear-Admiral Pocock. The
council of war refused to agree to this, as the naval officers, who formed
the majority, could not be brought to consent. Like Drake, who would
rather diminish his own portion than leave any of his people unsatisfied,
Watson undertook to 'give the Colonel such a part of his share as will
make it equal to Rear-Admiral Pocock's;' and this was duly entered in the
proceedings.
In the division of spoils, no mention is made of their Mahratta allies.
They were left out of account altogether, and the reason is not far to
seek. Experience had shown that, in the coming military operations, the
Mahrattas would count for nothing. All the hard knocks would fall on the
English, and it was but fair that they should have the prize-money; the
Mahrattas would gain a substantial benefit in the possession of Gheriah,
which was to be made over to them after capture.
The arrangements for the command of the troops showed that the lessons of
the last ten years of warfare against the French had borne fruit. The
command was left to those who made it their profession. Henceforth we hear
no more of factors and writers strutting about in uniform, calling
themselves colonels and captains for a few weeks, and then returning to
their ledgers. We have done with the Midfords and the Browns. Out of the
thirteen years he had served the Company, Clive had been a soldier for
eleven. He had definitely abandoned his civil position, and had embraced a
military career, and his merits had been recognized by the grant of a
Lieutenant-Colonel's commission from the King. The subordinate military
officers also had improved. The worst of them had been weeded out, and
many of them had learned their business under Lawrence in the Carnatic.
Though much unnecessary interference still went on in quarters, they were
left unfettered in the command of their men in the field.
A few hours after leaving Bombay, the expedition was overtaken by
despatches from Bourchier, with intelligence that the Mahrattas were
treating with Toolajee. On reaching Gheriah, they found the Mahratta army
encamped against it, and Ramajee Punt himself came off to tell the
commanders that, with a little patience, the fort would surrender without
firing a shot, as Toolajee was already in their hands and ready to treat.
Alarmed at the great armament coming against him, and cowed by recent
reverses, Toolajee had come as a suppliant into the Mahratta camp to try
if, by finesse and chicanery, he might escape utter destruction, while, in
Gheriah, he had left his brother-in-law with orders to defend it to the
last. The Peishwa's officers, on their side, were anxious to get the place
into their hands without admitting the English to any share of the booty;
a design that was at once seen through by Hough and Watson. Ramajee
promised to bring Toolajee with him the following day, to show that he was
not treating separately. Instead of doing so, he sent some subordinate
officers, together with some of Toolajee's relations, with excuses, to
keep Watson in play, while a large bribe was offered to Hough to induce
him to persuade the Admiral to suspend operations. Watson, who had already
summoned the fort to surrender, let them know that he would not wait very
long. They were taken to view the ship with its tiers of heavy guns, and,
as a grim hint of what might be expected, he presented Toolajee's friends
with a thirty-two pound shot as they left the ship.
At half-past one in the afternoon, the flag of truce having returned with
the Governor's refusal to surrender, signal was made to weigh, and the
whole fleet stood into the harbour in three divisions, led by the
_Kingsfisher_, sloop, and the _Bridgewater_. The inner line, nearest to
the fort was formed by the line-of-battle ships and the _Protector_: the
Company's grabs and bombketches, with the _Guardian_, formed the second
line, while the gallivats and small vessels formed a third, outer line. As
the _Kingsfisher_ came opposite the fort, a shot was fired at her. The
signal was made to engage, and as each ship reached its station it came to
an anchor, the inner line being within musket-shot of the fort. Across the
mouth of the river, Toolajee's grabs were drawn up, among them being the
_Restoration_, the capture of which, six years before, had caused so much
heart-burning in Bombay. As the heavy shot and shell came pouring in from
over one hundred and fifty guns at close range, the Gheriah defenders
manfully strove to repay the same with interest. But so terrific was the
fire brought to bear on them, that it was impossible for them to lay their
guns properly. In that February afternoon many a cruel outrage was
expiated under that hail of iron. After two hours' firing, a shell set the
_Restoration_ on fire; it spread to the grabs, and before long the Angrian
fleet,[3] that had been the terror of the coast for half a century, was in
a blaze. The boats were ordered out, and, as evening came on, Clive was
put on shore with the troops, and took up a position a mile and a half
from the fort. The Mahrattas joined him, and Toolajee, from whom the
Peishwa's people had extorted a promise to surrender the fort, found means
to send a letter into the place, warning his brother-in-law against
surrender to the English. In the fort all was terror and dismay, though
the Governor manfully did his duty. From the burning shipping the flames
spread to the bazaars and warehouses. All night the bombketches threw in
shells, while the conflagration continued. One square tower in the fort
burned with such violence as to resemble a fabric of red-hot iron in a
smithy.
Early next morning, Watson sent in a flag of truce again, but surrender
was still refused, so the line-of-battle ships were warped in and
recommenced firing; while Clive, who had approached the fort, battered it
from the land side. At four in the afternoon a magazine in the fort blew
up, and a white flag was hoisted. An officer was sent on shore, but the
Governor still attempted to evade surrender. He consented to admit five or
six men into the fort to hoist English colours, but would not definitely
surrender possession till next day. So fire was reopened, and in twenty
minutes more the Angrian flag was hauled down for the last time, and the
last shred of Angrian independence had ceased to exist.
Sixty men, under Captains Forbes and Buchanan, were marched up to hold the
gate for the night. A body of the Peishwa's troops tried to gain admission,
and offered the officers a bill on Bombay for a lakh of rupees to allow
them to pass in. The offer was rejected, but the Peishwa's officer still
continued to press in, till Forbes faced his men about, and, drawing his
sword, swore he would cut him down if he persisted.
The following morning, the fort was taken possession of by Clive. The
success had been gained at the cost of about twenty men killed and wounded.
Ramajee Punt at once made a formal demand for the fort to be given up to
him. Watson, in return, demanded that Toolajee should be made over into
English custody. Meanwhile, a hunt for the treasure secreted in different
places went on. "Every day hitherto has been productive of some new
discoveries of treasure, plate, and jewels, etc.," wrote Hough three days
later. Altogether about one hundred and thirty thousand pounds' worth of
gold, silver, and jewels were secured, and divided between the land and
sea forces. True to his promise, Watson sent Clive a thousand pounds to
make his share equal to Pocock's. Clive sent it back again. He was
satisfied with the acknowledgment of his claim, but would not take what
came out of Watson's private purse. "Thus did these two gallant officers
endeavour to outvie each other in mutual proofs of disinterestedness and
generosity," wrote Ives in his narrative. A thousand pounds was a larger
sum then than it would be now, and Clive was a poor man at the time, but
he was never greedy of money. The incident justifies his boast, long
afterwards, of his moderation when the treasures of Bengal were at his
mercy. It is allowable to suppose that it strengthened the mutual respect
of both, and facilitated their co-operation in Bengal, a year later. It
was a fortunate thing for England that Watson was not a man of Matthews'
stamp.
The Europeans in Toolajee's service appear to have left him before the
attack began, as no mention is made of them; but ten Englishmen and three
Dutchmen were found in the place, in a state of slavery, and released.
In delivering over Bankote, the Mahrattas had failed to give, with the
fort, the five villages according to agreement. The Council were desirous
of having Toolajee in their own keeping, so they refused to give over
Gheriah, and for some months a wrangle went on concerning the points in
dispute. The Council proposed that they should retain Gheriah and give up
Bankote. The Peishwa taunted the Council with breach of faith, and refused
to give up Toolajee. The squabble was at last settled by the Mahrattas
engaging to give ten villages near Bankote, and that Toolajee should not
receive any territory within forty miles of the sea. On these conditions
Gheriah was delivered over. Toolajee, instead of being given any territory,
was kept a prisoner for the rest of his life. Some years afterwards, his
sons made their escape, and sought refuge in Bombay.
With the fall of Gheriah, the heavy cloud that had so long hung over
Bombay trade was dispelled. Thenceforward none but the smallest vessels
had anything to fear on the coast south of Bombay, though another
half-century elapsed before the Malwans were compelled to give up piracy.
The Sanganians continued to be troublesome, at times, till they too were
finally reduced to order in 1816, after more than one expedition had been
sent against them. Persian Gulf piracy continued to flourish till 1835,
when it was brought to an end by a happy combination of arms and diplomacy.
On Shooter's Hill, adjoining Woolwich Common, the tower of Severndroog,
erected by James's widow to commemorate his great achievement, forms a
conspicuous landmark in the surrounding country. Here, in sight of the
spot where the bones of Kidd and his associates long hung in chains as a
terror to evil-doers, there still lingers a breath of that long struggle
against the Angrian pirates, and of its triumphant conclusion.
"This far-seen monumental tow'r
Records the achievements of the brave,
And Angria's subjugated pow'r,
Who plundered on the Eastern wave."
_"Walks through London," David Hughson_.
[1] Properly Suvarna Droog, 'the Golden Fortress.'
[2] Bankote was made over on the 6th December, and the British flag
hoisted there on the 10th January, 1756.
[3] Three three-masted ships carrying twenty guns each; nine two-masted,
carrying from twelve to sixteen guns; thirteen gallivats, carrying
from six to ten guns; thirty others unclassed; two on the stocks,
one of them pierced for forty guns.
* * * * *
AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN INDIA TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO
On the 9th March, 1709, the _Loyall Bliss_, East Indiaman, Captain Hudson,
left her anchorage in the Downs and sailed for Bengal. As passengers, she
carried Captain Gerrard Cooke, his wife, a son and two daughters, together
with a few soldiers. For many years Cooke had served the Company at Fort
William, as Gunner, an office that included the discharge of many
incongruous duties. After a stay in England, he was now returning to
Bengal, as engineer, with the rank of captain. The _Loyall Bliss_ was a
clumsy sailer, and made slow progress; so that August had come before she
left the Cape behind her. Contrary winds and bad weather still detained
her, and kept her westward of her course. By the middle of September, the
south-west monsoon, on which they depended to carry them up the bay, had
ceased to blow, so--
"our people being a great many Downe with the scurvy and our water
being short, wee called a Consultation of Officers it being too late
to pretend to get bengali the season being come that the N.E. Trade
wind being sett in and our people almost every man tainted with
distemper," it was determined to make for Carwar and "endever to gett
refresments there."
On the 7th October, they came to anchor in the little bay formed by the
Carwar River. The next day, hearing of a French man-of-war being on the
coast, they procured a pilot and anchored again under the guns of the
Portuguese fort on the island of Angediva, where lay the bones of some
three hundred of the first royal troops ever sent to India. Twenty-six
soldiers were sent on shore, 'most of them not being able to stand.' The
chief of the Company's factory at Carwar at that time was Mr. John Harvey,
who entertained Captain Hudson and all the gentlemen and ladies on board
'in a splendid manner.' One may picture to one's self the pleasure with
which they escaped for a time from the ship and its scurvy-stricken crew.
To Mr. Harvey and the Company's officials they were welcome as bringing
the latest news from England. They were able to tell of Marlborough's
victory at Oudenarde, and the capture of Lille and Minorca, while Harvey
was able to tell them of Captain Kidd's visit to Carwar twelve years
before, and to show them where the freebooter had careened his ship. But
Mr. John Harvey found other matter of interest in his visitors. There were
few Englishwomen in India in those days, and the unexpected advent of a
fresh young English girl aroused his susceptibilities to such an extent
that he forgot to report to Bombay the arrival of the _Loyall Bliss_, for
which, he, in due time, received a reprimand. He quickly made known to
Captain Cooke that he had taken a very great liking to his eldest daughter.
Mistress Catherine Cooke, 'a most beautiful lady, not exceeding thirteen
or fourteen years of age.' Cooke was a poor man, and had left two more
daughters in England; so, as Mr. Harvey 'proffered to make great
Settlements provided the Father and Mother would consent to her marriage,'
Mistress Catherine Cooke, 'to oblige her parents,' consented also. There
was little time for delay, as the captain of the _Loyall Bliss_ was
impatient to be off. The Company's ship _Tankerville_ was on the coast,
bound southward, and it was desirable they should sail in company for
mutual protection. So, on the 22nd October, the _Loyall Bliss_ made sail
for Bengal, where she safely arrived in due time, leaving behind the young
bride at Carwar.
To the lookers-on the marriage was repugnant, and can hardly have been a
happy one for the young girl, as Harvey was 'a deformed man and in years.'
He had been long on the coast, and by diligent trading had acquired a
little money; but he had other things to think of besides his private
trade, as we find recorded at the time that 'the Rajah of Carwar continues
ill-natured.' By the end of 1710, he made up his mind to resign the
Company's service, wind up his affairs, and go to England; so Mr. Robert
Mence was appointed to succeed him at Carwar, and, in April, 1711, Harvey
and his child-wife came to Bombay. But to wind up trading transactions of
many years' standing was necessarily a long business, and there was no
necessity for hurry, as no ship could leave for England till after the
monsoon. As always happened in those days, his own accounts were mixed up
with those of the Company, and would require laborious disentanglement.
Before leaving Carwar, he had leased to the Company his trading grab, the
_Salamander_, and had taken the precaution to pay himself out of the
Company's treasure chest at Carwar. Before long, there was an order to the
Carwar chief to recharge Mr. Harvey 402 Pagodas, 17 Jett, and 4 Pice he
had charged to the Company for the use of the _Salamander_, the account
having been liquidated in Bombay; from which it would appear that he had
been paid twice for his ship. The accounts of those days must have been
maddening affairs owing to the multiplicity of coinages. Pounds sterling,
Pagodas, Rupees, Fanams, Xeraphims, Laris, Juttals, Matte, Reis, Rials,
Cruzadoes, Sequins, Pice, Budgerooks, and Dollars of different values were
all brought into the official accounts. In 1718, the confusion was
increased by a tin coinage called Deccanees.[1] The conversion of sums
from one coinage to another, many of them of unstable value, must have
been an everlasting trouble.[2] In August we find Harvey writing to the
Council to say that he had at Tellicherry a chest of pillar dollars
weighing 289 lbs. 3 ozs. 10 dwts., which he requests may be paid into the
Company's cash there, and in return a chest of dollars may be given him at
Bombay.
His young wife doubtless assisted him in his complicated accounts, and
gained some knowledge of local trade. It must have been a wonderful
delight to her to escape from the dulness of Carwar and mix in the larger
society of Bombay, and she must have realized with sadness the mistake she
had made in marrying a deformed man old enough to be her grandfather, at
the solicitation of her parents. She made, at this time, two acquaintances
that were destined to have considerable influence on her future life. On
the 5th August, the _Godolphin_, twenty-one days from Mocha, approached
Bombay, but being unable to make the harbour before nightfall, anchored
outside; a proceeding that would appear, even to a landsman, absolutely
suicidal in the middle of the monsoon, but was probably due to fear of
pirates.[3]
That night heavy weather came on, the ship's cable parted, and the
_Godolphin_ became a total wreck at the foot of Malabar Hill. Apparently,
all the Englishmen on board were saved, among them the second supercargo,
a young man named Thomas Chown, who lost all his possessions. There was
also in Bombay, at the time, a young factor, William Gyfford, who had come
to India, six years before, as a writer, at the age of seventeen. We shall
hear of both of them again.
In October, came news of the death of Mr. Robert Mence at Carwar. 'Tho his
time there was so small wee find he had misapplyed 1700 and odd pagodas to
his own use,' the Bombay Council reported to the Directors in London. In
his place was appointed Mr. Miles Fleetwood, who was then in Bombay
awaiting a passage to the Persian Gulf where he had been appointed a
factor. With him returned to Carwar, Harvey and his wife, to adjust some
depending accounts with the country people there.
We get an account of Carwar thirty years before this, from Alexander
Hamilton, which shows that there was plenty of sport near at hand for
those who were inclined for it, and it is interesting to find that the
Englishmen who now travel in search of big game had their predecessors in
those days--
"This Country is so famous for hunting, that two Gentlemen of
Distinction, viz: Mr. _Lembourg_ of the House of _Lembourg_ in
_Germany_, and Mr. _Goring_, a Son of my Lord _Goring's_ in _England_,
went _incognito_ in one of the _East India_ Company's Ships, for India.
They left Letters directed for their Relations, in the Hands of a
Friend of theirs, to be delivered two or three Months after their
Departure, so that Letters of Credit followed them by the next Year's
Shipping, with Orders from the _East India_ Company to the Chiefs of
the Factories, wherever they should happen to come, to treat them
according to their Quality. They spent three Years at _Carwar, viz:_
from Anno 1678 to 1681, then being tired with that Sort of Pleasure,
they both took Passage on board a Company's Ship for _England_, but Mr.
_Goring_ died four days after the Ship's Departure from _Carwar_, and
lies buried on the Island of _St. Mary_, about four Leagues from the
Shore, off _Batacola_, and Mr. _Lembourg_ returned safe to _England_."
Four months after his return to Carwar, Harvey died, leaving his girl-wife
a widow. She remained at Carwar, engaged in winding up the trading affairs
of her late husband, and asserting her claim to his estate, which had been
taken possession of by the Company's officials, according to custom.
According to the practice of the day, every merchant and factor had
private trading accounts which were mixed up with the Company's accounts,
so that on retirement they were not allowed to leave the country till the
Company's claims were settled. In case of death, their estates were taken
possession of for the same reason. Two months later, Mr. Thomas Chown, the
late supercargo of the _Godolphin_, was sent down to Carwar as a factor,
and, a few weeks after his arrival, he married the young widow.
Application was now made to the Council at Bombay for the effects of her
late husband to be made over to her, and orders were sent to Carwar for
the late Mr. Harvey's effects to be sold, and one-third of the estate to
be paid to Mrs. Chown, provided Harvey had died intestate. The Carwar
factory chief replied that the effects had realized 13,146 rupees 1 fanam
and 12 budgerooks; that Harvey had left a will dated the 8th April, 1708,
and that therefore nothing had been paid to Mrs. Chown. It was necessary
for Chown and his wife to go to Bombay and prosecute their claims in
person. The short voyage was destined to be an eventful one.
On the 3rd November (1712), Chown and his wife left Carwar in the _Anne_
ketch, having a cargo of pepper and wax on board, to urge their claim to
the late Mr. Harvey's estate. The coast swarmed with pirate craft, among
which those of Conajee Angria were the most numerous and the most
formidable. It was usual, therefore, for every cargo of any value to be
convoyed by an armed vessel. To protect the _Anne_, Governor Aislabie's
armed yacht had been sent down, and a small frigate, the _Defiance_,[4]
was also with them. The day after leaving Carwar they were swooped down
upon by four of Angria's ships, and a hot action ensued. The brunt of it
fell on the Governor's yacht, which had both masts shot away and was
forced to surrender. The ketch tried to escape back to Carwar, but was
laid aboard by two grabs, and had to surrender when she had expended most
of her ammunition. In the action, Chown had his arm torn off by a
cannon-shot, and expired in his wife's arms. So again, in little more than
three years from her first marriage, Mrs. Chown was left a widow when she
could hardly have been eighteen. The captured vessels and the prisoners
were carried off; the crews to Gheriah and the European prisoners to
Colaba. To make matters worse for the poor widow, she was expecting the
birth of an infant.
Great was the excitement in Bombay when the news of Mrs. Chown's capture
arrived. The Governor was away at Surat, and all that could be done was to
address Angria; so a letter was written to him 'in English and Gentues,'
asking for the captives and all papers to be restored, and some medicine
was sent for the wounded. Just at this time also news was received of the
Indiaman _New George_ having been taken by the French near Don
Mascharenas.[5] Sir John Gayer, who was on board, finished his troubled
career in the East by being killed in the action.
After keeping them a month in captivity Angria sent back his prisoners,
except the captains ransom. In acknowledgment of kindness shown to the
released prisoners by the Seedee, that chief was presented with a pair of
Musquetoons, a fowling-piece, and five yards of 'embost' cloth. But in the
Governor's absence the Council could do nothing about payment of ransom.
When he returned, negotiations went on through the European prisoners in
Colaba. Angria being sincerely anxious for peace with the English while he
was in arms against his own chief, terms were arranged, and Lieutenant
Mackintosh was despatched to Colaba with Rs.30,000 as ransom for the
Europeans, and the sealed convention. On the 22nd February (1713), he
returned, bringing with him Mrs. Chown and the other captives, the
captured goods, and the _Anne_ ketch, but the yacht was too badly damaged
to put to sea. According to Downing, Mrs. Chown was in such a state that
Mackintosh, 'was obliged to wrap his clothes about her to cover her
nakedness.' But her courage had never forsaken her; 'she most courageously
withstood all Angria's base usage, and endured his insults beyond
expectation.' Shortly afterwards she was delivered of a son. Out of her
first husband's estate one thousand rupees were granted her for present
necessities, with an allowance of one hundred xeraphims a month.
Very shortly afterwards we find her being married for the third time, to
young William Gyfford, with the Governor's approval. According to the
statute law of Bombay, no marriage was binding, except it had the
Governor's consent; Hamilton tells us how on one occasion a factor, Mr.
Solomon Loyd, having married a young lady without the Governor's consent,
Sir John Gayer dissolved the marriage, and married the lady again to his
own son. In October, two years and a half after her first husband's death,
seven thousand four hundred and ninety-two rupees, being one-third of his
estate, were paid over to her. It is carefully recorded that neither of
her deceased husbands had left wills, though the existence of Harvey's
will had been very precisely recorded by the Council, fifteen months
before. Young Gyfford, who was then twenty-five, appears to have been a
favourite with the Governor, and had lately been given charge of the
Bombay Market. Eighteen months after his marriage, we find William Gyfford
appointed supercargo of the _Catherine_, trading to Mocha. The office was
a most desirable one for a young factor. It afforded him opportunities for
private trade at first hand, instead of through agents, that in the mind
of an adventurous young man quite outbalanced the perils of the sea.
In spite of small salaries, a goodly appearance was made by the Company's
servants in public. At the public table, where they sat in order of
seniority, all dishes, plates, and drinking-cups were of pure silver or
fine china. English, Portuguese, and Indian cooks were employed, so that
every taste might be suited. Before and after meals silver basins were
taken round for each person to wash his hands. Arrack, Shiraz wine, and
'pale punch,' a compound of brandy, rose-water, lime-juice, and sugar,
were drunk, and, at times, we hear of Canary wine. In 1717, Boone
abolished the public table, and diet money was given in its place. Boone
reported to the Directors that, by the change, a saving of nearly
Rs.16,000 a year was effected, and the Company's servants better satisfied.
On festival days the Governor would invite the whole factory to a picnic
in some garden outside the city. On such an occasion, a procession was
formed, headed by the Governor and his lady, in palanquins. Two large
ensigns were carried before them, followed by a number of led horses in
gorgeous trappings of velvet and silver. Following the Governor came the
Captain of the Peons on horseback, with forty or fifty armed men on foot.
Next followed the members of the Council, the merchants, factors, and
writers, in order of seniority, in fine bullock coaches or riding on
horses, all maintained at the Company's expense. At the Dewallee festival
every servant of the Company, from the Governor to the youngest writer,
received a 'peshcush' from the brokers and bunyas, which to the younger
men were of much importance; as they depended on these gifts to procure
their annual supply of clothes.
Of the country, away from the coast, they were profoundly ignorant. The
far-off King of 'Dilly' was little more than a name to them, and they were
more concerned in the doings of petty potentates with strange names, such
as the Zamorin, the Zammelook, the Kempsant, and the Sow Rajah, who have
long disappeared. They talked of the people as Gentoos, Moors, Mallwans,
Sanganians, Gennims, Warrels, Coulis, Patanners, etc., and the number of
political, racial, religious, and linguistic divisions presented to their
view must have been especially puzzling. Owing to the numerous languages
necessary to carry on trade on the Malabar coast, they were forced to
depend almost entirely on untrustworthy Portuguese interpreters. Their
difficulties in this respect are dwelt on by Hamilton--
"One great Misfortune that attends us _European_ Travellers in _India_
is, the Want of Knowledge of their Languages, and they being so
numerous, that one intire Century would be too short a Time to learn
them all: I could not find one in Ten thousand that could speak
intelligible _English_, tho' along the Sea coast the _Portuguese_ have
left a Vestige of their Language, tho' much corrupted, yet it is the
Language that most _Europeans_ learn first, to qualify them for a
general Converse with one another, as well as with the different
Inhabitants of _India_."
After two years' work, as supercargo, on different ships, Gyfford was sent
down to Anjengo as chief of the factory. Anjengo was at that time one of
the most important factories on the Malabar coast, though of comparatively
recent establishment. It was first frequented by the Portuguese, who,
after a time, were ousted by the Dutch. It belonged to the Rani of Attinga,
who owned a small principality extending along sixty miles of coast. In
1688,[6] Rani Ashure invited the English to form a trading settlement in
her dominions, and two were formed, at Vittoor (Returah) and Villanjuen
(Brinjone). But for some reason, she became dissatisfied with the English,
and the hostility of the Dutch, in spite of the alliance between the two
countries in Europe, caused great trouble. In November, 1693, John
Brabourne was sent to Attinga, where, by his successful diplomacy, the
sandy spit of Anjengo was granted to the English, as a site for a fort,
together with the monopoly of the pepper trade of Attinga. Soon, the Dutch
protests and intrigues aroused the Rani's suspicions. She ordered
Brabourne to stop his building. Finding him deaf to her orders, she first
tried to starve out the English by cutting off supplies, but as the sea
was open, the land blockade proved ineffectual. She then sent an armed
force against Brabourne, which was speedily put to flight, and terms of
peace were arranged. The fort was completed, and a most flourishing trade
in pepper and cotton cloth speedily grew up. Anjengo became the first port
of call for outward-bound ships. The Anjengo fortification appeared so
formidable to the Dutch, that they closed their factories at Cochin,
Quilon, and Cannanore.[7] About 1700, Rani Ashure died, and the little
principality fell into disorder. It was a tradition that only women should
reign, and Ashure's successor was unable to make her authority felt. The
Poolas, who governed the four districts into which the principality was
divided, intrigued for power against each other, and before long the Rani
became a puppet in the hands of Poola Venjamutta. In 1704, a new Governor,
Sir Nicholas Waite, was appointed to Bombay. For some reason he left
Brabourne without instructions or money for investment.[8] Their small
salaries and their private trading seem to have made the Company's
servants very independent. We constantly find them throwing up the service
and going away, without waiting for permission. Brabourne went off to
Madras, after delivering over the fort to Mr. Simon Cowse, who had long
resided there, apparently as a private merchant, and who proved, as times
went, a good servant to the Company. The Company's service in those days
was full of intrigue and personal quarrels. The merchant second in rank at
Anjengo, John Kyffin, intrigued against Cowse so successfully, that Cowse
was deposed, and Kyffin was made chief of the settlement. He appears to
have been a thoroughly unscrupulous man. To enrich himself in his private
pepper trade 'he stuck at nothing.' He took part in the local intrigues of
Attinga, from which his predecessors had held aloof, played into the hands
of Poola Venjamutta, quarrelled with the other local officials, and
behaved with great violence whenever there was the slightest hitch in his
trade. Kyffin's want of loyalty to the Company was still more clearly
shown by his friendly dealings with their rivals, a proceeding that was
strictly forbidden.
In June, 1717, Kyffin made known to the Council at Bombay his wish to
retire, and William Gyfford was appointed to succeed him as soon as the
monsoon would permit. So, in due course of time, Gyfford and his wife went
to Anjengo; but, in spite of his resignation, Kyffin stuck to his office,
and evidently viewed Gyfford with unfriendly eyes. In the following April,
intelligence reached the Council at Bombay that Kyffin had had dealings
with the Ostenders, and had been 'very assisting' to them; so, a
peremptory order went down from Bombay, dismissing him from the Company's
service, if the report of his assisting the Ostenders was true. If the
report was not true, no change was to be made. A commission to Gyfford to
assume the chiefship was sent at the same time. Interlopers and Ostenders,
he was told, were not to receive even provisions or water. So Kyffin
departed, and Gyfford reigned at Anjengo in his stead.
But the follies of Kyffin had roused a feeling against the English that
was not likely to be allayed by Gyfford, who exceeded Kyffin in dishonesty
and imprudence. He threw himself into the pepper trade, using the
Company's money for his own purposes, and joined hands with the Portuguese
interpreter, Ignatio Malheiros, who appears to have been a consummate
rogue. Before long, religious feeling was aroused by the interpreter
obtaining possession of some pagoda land in a money-lending transaction.
Gyfford also aroused resentment, by trying to cheat the native traders
over the price of pepper, by showing fictitious entries in the factory
books, and by the use of false weights. The only thing wanting for an
explosion was the alienation of the Mahommedan section, which, before long,
was produced by chance and by Gyfford's folly. It happened that some
Mahommedan traders came to the fort to transact business with Cowse, who
had resumed business as a private merchant; but he was not at leisure, so
they went to the interpreter's house, to sit down and wait. While there,
the interpreter's 'strumpet' threw some _hooli_ powder on one of the
merchants. Stung by the insult, the man drew his sword, wounded the woman,
and would have killed her, if he and his companions had not been disarmed.
Gyfford, when they were brought before him, allowed himself to be
influenced by the interpreter, and ordered them to be turned out of the
fort, after their swords had been insultingly broken over their heads. The
people of Attinga flew to arms, and threatened the fort. For some months
there were constant skirmishes. The English had no difficulty in defeating
all attacks, but, none the less, trade was brought to a standstill; so
Mr. Walter Brown was sent down from Bombay to put matters straight. Poola
Venjamutta, who had all the time kept himself in the background, was quite
ready to help an accommodation, as open force had proved useless. Things
having quieted down, Gyfford, 'flushed with the hopes of having Peace and
Pepper,' devoted himself to trade. He had at this time a brigantine called
the _Thomas_, commanded by his wife's brother, Thomas Cooke, doing his
private trade along the coast. The year 1720 passed quietly. Force having
proved unavailing, the Attinga people dissembled their anger, and waited
for an opportunity to revenge themselves. So well was the popular feeling
against the English concealed, that Cowse, with his long experience and
knowledge of the language, had no suspicions.
There had been an old custom, since the establishment of the factory, of
giving presents yearly to the Rani, in the name of the Company; but for
some years the practice had fallen into abeyance. Gyfford, wishing to
ingratiate himself with the authorities, resolved on reviving the custom,
and to do so in the most ceremonious way, by going himself with the
presents for seven years. Accordingly, on the 11th April, 1721,
accompanied by all the merchants and factors, and taking all his best men,
about one hundred and twenty in number, and the same number of coolies,
Gyfford started for Attinga, four miles up the river. Here they were
received by an enormous crowd of people, who gave them a friendly
reception. The details of what followed are imperfectly recorded, and much
is left to conjecture, but Gyfford's foolish over-confidence is
sufficiently apparent. In spite of their brave display, his men carried no
ammunition. Poola Venjamutta was not to be seen. They were told he was
drunk, and they must wait till he was fit to receive them. He was
apparently playing a double part, but the blame for what followed was
afterwards laid on his rival, Poola Cadamon Pillay. Cowse's suspicions
were aroused, and he advised an immediate return to Anjengo, but Gyfford
refused to take the advice. He is said to have struck Cowse, and to have
threatened with imprisonment. The Rani also sent a message, advising a
return to Anjengo. It was getting late, and to extricate himself from the
crowd, Gyfford allowed the whole party to be inveigled into a small
enclosure. To show his goodwill to the crowd, he ordered his men to fire a
salvo, and then he found that the ammunition carried by the coolies had
been secured, and they were defenceless. In this hopeless position, he
managed to entrust a letter addressed to the storekeeper at Anjengo, to
the hands of a friendly native. It reached Anjengo at one o'clock next day,
and ran as follows:--
"Captain Sewell. We are treacherously dealt with here, therefore keep
a very good look-out of any designs on you. Have a good look to your
two Trankers,[9] We hope to be with you to-night. Take care and don't
frighten the women; we are in no great danger. Give the bearer a
Chequeen."[10]
But none of the English were to see Anjengo again. That night, or the next
morning, a sudden attack was made, the crowd surged in on the soldiers,
overwhelmed them, and cut them to pieces. The principal English were
seized and reserved for a more cruel death. In the confusion, Cowse, who
was a favourite among the natives, managed to disguise himself, got
through the crowd, and sought to reach Anjengo by a little frequented path.
By bad luck he was overtaken by a Mahommedan merchant who owed him money.
Cowse offered to acquit him of the debt, but to no purpose. He was
mercilessly killed, and thus the debt was settled. 'Stone dead hath no
fellow,' as the chronicler of his death says. The rest of the English were
tortured to death, Gyfford and the interpreter being reserved for the
worst barbarities. Ignatio Malheiros was gradually dismembered, while
Gyfford had his tongue torn out, was nailed to a log of wood, and sent
floating down the river.
It is easy to picture to one's self the consternation in Anjengo, that
12th April, when, soon after midday, Gyfford's hasty note was received,
and the same evening, when a score of wounded men (topasses) straggled in
to confirm the worst fears; 'all miserably wounded, some with 12 or 13
cutts and arrows in their bodyes to a lower number, but none without any.'
Gyfford had taken away all the able men with him, leaving in the fort only
'the dregs,' old men, boys, and pensioners, less than forty in number. At
their head were Robert Sewell, who describes himself as Storekeeper,
Captain and Adjutant by order of Governor Boone; Lieutenant Peter
Lapthorne, Ensign Thomas Davis, and Gunner Samuel Ince. The first three of
them were absolutely useless, and Gunner Ince, whose name deserves to be
remembered, was the only one of the four who rose to the situation. His
first care was for the three English women, whose husbands had just been
killed. By good fortune there happened to be in the road a small country
ship that had brought a consignment of cowries from the Maldives. Mrs.
Gyfford, for the third time a widow, Mrs. Cowse with four children, and
Mrs. Burton with two, were hastily put on board, and sailed at once for
Madras. No mention appears of Mrs. Gyfford having any children with her,
but she carried off the factory records and papers, and what money she
could lay her hands on. She was no longer the confiding girl, who had
given herself to Governor Harvey eleven years before. She had learned
something of the world she lived in, and intended to take care of herself
as well as she could. She even tried to carry off Peter Lapthorne with her,
but Sewell intervened and prevented it. So giving him hasty directions to
act as her agent, she passed through the dangerous Anjengo surf and got on
board. A letter to her from Lapthorne, written a few weeks later, relates
that the only property he could find belonging to her were 'two wiggs and
a bolster and some ophium' in the warehouse.
Having got rid of the white women, Sewell and his companions set to work
to hold the fort against the attack that was inevitable. From the old
records we get an idea of what the fort was like. As designed by Brabourne,
it covered a square of about sixty yards each way, but this did not
include the two Trankers, palisaded out-works, alluded to in Gyfford's
note. Ten years before, the attention of the Council at Bombay had been
drawn to the bad condition of the
"Fort house, being no more then timber covered with palm leaves
(cajanns) so very dangerous taking fire," and the chief of the factory
was ordered to build "a small compact house of brick with a Hall, and
conveniencys for half a dozen Company's servants. And being advised
that for want of a necessary house in the Fort, they keep the Fort
gate open all night for the guard going out and in, which irregularity
may prove of so pernicious consequence as the loss of that garrison,
especially in a country where they are surrounded with such
treacherous people as the Natives and the Dutch," it was ordered that
a "necessary house over the Fort walls" should be built, and the gates
kept locked after 8 o'clock at night.
How far these orders had been carried out does not appear; but the
Company's goods were still kept in a warehouse outside the walls: some of
the Company's servants also had houses outside, and the palm-leaf roofs
were still there. For garrison they only had about thirty-five boys and
pensioners, 'whereof not twenty fit to hold a firelock,' and, for want of
a sufficient garrison, it was necessary to withdraw from the Trankers,
which were thought to be so important for the safety of the place.
Desperate as was the outlook. Gunner Ince exerted himself like a man,
animating everybody by his example. By his exertions, seven hundred bags
of rice, with salt fish for a month, and the Company's treasure were got
in from the warehouse, and an urgent appeal was sent to Calicut. The
surgeon had been killed with Gyfford; they had no smith or carpenter or
tools, except a few hatchets, and the Attinga people swarming into Anjengo
burned and plundered the settlement, forcing a crowd of women and children
to take refuge in the small fort. Though no concerted attack was made at
first, the assailants tried with fire arrows to set fire to the palm-leaf
roofs, which had to be dismantled; and all through the siege, which lasted
six months, the sufferings of the garrison were increased by the burning
rays of a tropical sun or the torrential rains of the monsoon.
On the 25th April, they were cheered by the arrival of two small English
ships from Cochin, where the intelligence of the disaster had reached; and
received a small reinforcement of seven men with a consignment of
provisions. A message of condolence also had come from the Rajah of Quilon,
who offered to receive the women and children, so one hundred and fifty
native women and children, widows and orphans of the slain, were sent off.
On the 1st May, an ensign and fifty-one men, collected by Mr. Adams from
Calicut and Tellicherry, joined the garrison, and gave some relief from
the constant sentry duty that was necessary. The enemy, meanwhile, had
contented themselves with harassing the garrison by firing long shots at
them; but it was rumoured that the Rajah of Travancore was sending troops,
and then they would have to sustain a serious attack. Gunner Ince, on whom
the whole weight of the defence rested, let it be known that in the last
extremity he would blow up the magazine. It is cheering to find that there
was at least one man who was prepared to do his duty. Sewell and Lapthorne
got drunk, and joined with the warehouseman, a Portuguese named Rodriguez,
in plundering the Company's warehouse and sending goods away to Quilon;
the soldiers followed the example, and plundered the rooms inside the fort,
while the late interpreter's family were allowed to send away, to Quilon,
effects to the value of one hundred thousand fanams, though it was known
that the Company had a claim on him for over two-thirds of the amount, on
account of money advanced to him. Davis was dying of a lingering illness,
to which he succumbed in the beginning of July.
On the 24th June, a vigorous attack was made on the fort from three sides
at once. On one side the enemy had thrown up an entrenchment, and on the
river side they had effected a lodgment in Cowse's house, a substantial
building close to the wall of the fort. This would have soon made the fort
untenable, so a small party was sent to dislodge the occupants. At first
they were repulsed, but a second attempt was successful. Marching up to
the windows, 'where they were as thick as bees,' they threw hand grenades
into the house, which was hurriedly evacuated; numbers of the enemy
leaping into the river, where some of them were drowned. Ince then
bombarded them out of the entrenchment, and the attack came to an end.
Several of the garrison were wounded, but none killed; but what chiefly
mortified them was that the arms of the men slain with Gyfford were used
against them. After this the land blockade lingered on, but no very
serious attack seems to have been made. A second reinforcement of thirty
men was sent down by Adams from Calicut, and the Rani and Poola Venjamutta
sent 'refreshments,' and promised that the attacks of their rebellious
subjects should cease. The Rani also wrote to the Madras Council, and sent
a deputation of one hundred Brahmins to Tellicherry, to express her horror
of the barbarities committed by her people, and her willingness to join
the Company's forces in punishing the guilty.
Intelligence of the disaster at Anjengo did not reach Bombay till the
beginning of July. The monsoon was in full force, and no assistance could
be sent till it was over. Men and supplies were gathered in from Carwar
and Surat, and, on the 17th October, Mr. Midford, with three hundred men,
reached Anjengo. His report on the state of affairs he found there makes
it a matter of surprise that the place had not fallen. The safety of the
fort had been entirely due to Gunner Ince. Sewell's behaviour was that of
a fool or a madman. Together with Lapthorne, he had set the example of
plundering the Company, and their men had done as much damage as the enemy.
Sewell, as storekeeper, had no books, and said he never had kept any.
Lapthorne had retained two months' pay, due to the men killed with Gyfford,
and asserted his right to it. Much of the Company's treasure was
unaccounted for, and Mrs. Gyfford had carried off the books. Midford sent
Sewell and Lapthorne under arrest to Bombay, where they were let off with
a scolding, and proceeded to restore order. The Rani and Venjamutta were
friendly, but told him he must take his own vengeance on the Nairs for
their inhuman action. So he commenced a series of raids into the
surrounding country, which reduced it to some sort of subjection. Soon
there came an order for most of his men to be sent back to Bombay, where
warlike measures against Angria were on foot. A cessation of arms was
patched up, and Midford installed himself as chief.
He proved to be no honester than his predecessors. He monopolized the
pepper trade on his own private account, making himself advances out of
the Company's treasury. In less than a year he was dead, but before his
death Alexander Orme,[11] then a private merchant on the coast, was sent
to Anjengo as chief of the factory, at the special request of the Rani.
Before long, Orme had to report to the Council that there were due to the
Company, from Gyfford's estate, 559,421 fanams, and that 140,260 gold
fanams had disappeared during Midford's chiefship which could not be
accounted for. Midford had also drawn pay for twenty European soldiers who
did not exist. The Council ascribed Midford's misdeeds to his
'unaccountable stupidity,' and the Directors answered that 'the charges
against Mr. Midford are very grievous ones.'
In September, 1722, the Council received from Orme a copy of the treaty he
had made with the Rani. The following were the chief provisions. The
ringleaders in the attack on Gyfford were to be punished and their estates
confiscated; all Christians living between Edawa and Brinjone were to be
brought under the Company's protection; the Rani was to reimburse the
Company for all expenses caused by the attack on Anjengo; the Company was
to have exclusive right to the pepper trade, and were empowered to build
factories in the Rani's dominions wherever they pleased; the Rani was to
return all arms taken in the late out-break, and to furnish timber to
rebuild the church that had been burned. The treaty was guaranteed by the
Rani's brother, the Rajah of Chinganatta. By the Directors it was received
with mixed feelings.
"Last years Letters took some notice about the Affair at Anjengo, We
had not then the Account of the Treaty Mr. Orme made with the Queen of
Attinga and King of Chinganetty, We are sorry to find it included in
the Treaty, That We must supply Souldiers to carry on the War against
her rebellious Subjects for which she is to pay the Charge, and in the
Interim to pawn Lands for answering principal and Interest, because it
will certainly involve us in a trouble if We succeed, and more if We
dont, add to this, the variable temper and poverty of those people may
incline them to refuse to refund, and in time they may redemand and
force back their Lands, If the Articles are fully comply'd with they
seem to be for the Companys benefit, But We fear we shall have the
least Share of it, To what purpose is her Grant to Us of all the
Pepper in her Countrey, If Our unfaithful people there get all for
themselves and none for Us, as you Charge Mr. Midford with doing, We
dont want an Extent of Lands, if We could but (obtain) pepper cheap
and sufficient, And what benefit will it be to Us, to have the liberty
of building Factorys, which in Event is only a Liberty to lavish away
Our Money, and turning Quick Stock into dead, unless you could be
morally certain it would be worth while to get a small residence in
the King of Chengenattys Countrey, where it is said the Dutch make
great Investments of Peice Goods cheaper and better, than they used to
do at Negapatam, and therefore have deserted it, We consider further,
if such Goods as are proper for Our Europe Market were procurable, how
comes it We have had none hitherto, It is true We have had Cloth from
Anjengo good of the Sorts, but Invoiced so dear that We forbad sending
more unless to be purchased at the prices We limited, since then We
have heard no more about it, But we are told it is Traded in to Bombay
to some profit, What profit will the putting the Christians between
Edova and Brinjohn under Our Jurisdiction yeild to Us, and what
Security can you have that the King of Chenganattys Guarranteeship
will answer and give full satisfaction, These are what appear to Us
worthy your serious and deliberate consideration to be well thought of
before you come to a determination What Orders to give, We find by
your Consultations in January 1722/23 You had sent down Treasure to
Anjengo, to enable the Chief to levy Souldiers to revenge the Murder
of the English, since you could not spare Forces which as there
exprest is absolutely necessary, for else the Natives will have but
contemptible thoughts of the English, who will then loose their Esteem,
had We ever found a benefit by their Esteem, something might be said
for it, But in the present Case We fear We shall buy Our Esteem at too
dear a Rate, We should be extreamly glad to be mistaken and to find in
effect what your 120th Paragraph says in words, that you hope to make
it a Valuable Settlement."[12]
We left Mrs. Gyfford flying from Anjengo in a small country ship, with two
other English women and six children. The misery that the three poor
widows must have endured for a month, crowded into a small country boat,
without preparation or ordinary comforts, at the hottest time of the year,
must have been extreme. On the 17th May, the fugitives landed at Madras.
The Council there granted them a compassionate allowance, of which Mrs.
Gyfford refused to avail herself. After a time she made her way to
Calcutta and joined her father's family, leaving, with an agent in Madras,
the Anjengo factory books, which, after repeated demands, were surrendered
to the Madras Council. From Madras to Calcutta she was pursued by the
demands of the Bombay Council. The books had been restored at Madras, and
the Bengal Government extracted Rs.7312 from her; but, in reply to further
demands, she would only answer that she was 'an unfortunate widow,
struggling with adversity, whose husband had met his death serving our
Honourable Masters,' and that it was shameful to demand money from her,
when she herself was owed large sums by the Company. She could only refer
them to her agents at Madras and Anjengo. Still, she was in a considerable
dilemma, as she could not get out of the country without a full settlement
of accounts, and, if resistance was carried too far, her father might be
made to suffer.
At this juncture an unexpected way of escape presented itself. Twelve
months before this, Commodore Matthews had arrived in Bombay with a
squadron of the Royal Navy for the suppression of piracy. But Matthews was
more bent on enriching himself by trade than on harrying pirates; and, as
his own trading was inimical to the Company's interests and certain to set
the Company's servants against him, he had from the first assumed a
position of hostility to the Company. Every opportunity was seized of
damaging the Company's interests and lowering the Company's authority. All
who were in the Company's bad books found a patron and protector in
Matthews; so, when in September, 1722, the flagship appeared in the
Hooghly, Mrs. Gyfford was quick to grasp the opportunity, that presented
itself, of bidding defiance to her pursuers. She at once opened
communication with Matthews, and besought his protection. She was an
unfortunate widow who had lost two husbands by violent deaths in the
Company's service, and, now that she was unprotected, the Company was
trying to wring from her the little money she had brought away from
Anjengo, while she herself had large claims against the Company. This was
quite enough for Matthews. Here was a young and pretty woman with a good
sum of money, shamefully persecuted by the Company, to which he felt
nothing but hostility. At one stroke he could gratify his dislike of the
Company and succour a badly treated young woman, whose hard fate should
arouse sympathy in every generous mind; so the Bengal Council were told
that Mrs. Gyfford was now under the protection of the Crown, and was not
to be molested.
In the hope of securing some portion of the money due to the Company, the
Council attached the brigantine _Thomas_, commanded by Mrs. Gyfford's
brother. A letter was at once forthcoming from Matthews to say that he had
purchased Mrs. Gyfford's interest in the vessel. Finding themselves thus
forestalled, the Council begged Matthews not to take her away from
Calcutta till she had furnished security for the Company's claim of
Rs.50,000, Matthews replied that he should take her to Bombay, where she
would answer anything that might be alleged against her. As soon as he had
completed his trading in Bengal, Mrs. Gyfford, with her effects, embarked
on board the _Lyon_, and so returned to Bombay. There, in January, 1723,
we find her living under Matthews' roof, much to the wrath of the Council
and the scandal of her former acquaintances. By this time, the Council had
received from Anjengo more precise details as to what was due to the
Company from Gyfford's estate. All the cowries, pepper, and cloth that
were said to belong to Gyfford had been bought with the Company's money,
and the Company's claim against his estate was nearly £9000. A stringent
order was sent to Mrs. Gyfford, forbidding her to leave Bombay till the
claim was settled. Matthews at once put her on board the _Lyon_ again, and
there she remained; not venturing to set foot on shore, lest the Council
should lay hands on her.
By the end of the year, Matthews was ready to return to England. Intent to
the last on trade, he touched at Carwar, Tellicherry, and St. David's, and,
in Mrs. Gyfford's interests, a visit was also paid Anjengo, to try and
recover some of the property she claimed to have left there. She was not
going to be put off with Lapthorne's 'two wiggs and a bolster.' In July
(1724) the _Lyon_ reached Portsmouth, and was put out of commission.
At first the Directors appear to have paid little attention to Mrs.
Gyfford, perhaps not thinking her worth powder and shot. Their principal
anger was directed against Matthews, against whom they obtained a decree
in the Court of Chancery for unlawful trading. But Mrs. Gyfford would not
keep silence. Perhaps she really believed in the justice of her claims.
She bombarded the Directors with petitions, till at last, two years after
her arrival in England, they tardily awoke to the fact that they
themselves had substantial claims against her. They offered to submit the
claims to arbitration, to which Mrs. Gyfford consented; but as she still
refrained from coming to close quarters, they filed a suit against her in
the Court of Chancery, nearly four years after her arrival in England. Mrs.
Gyfford promptly replied with a counter-suit, in which, among other things,
she claimed £10,000 for presents taken by Gyfford to the Rani of Attinga
on that fatal 11th April, seven years before. Four years later, she was
still deep in litigation, having quarrelled with her agent, Peter
Lapthorne, among others. It is to be hoped, for her sake, that Chancery
suits were cheaper than they are now. Here we may say good-bye to her. For
those who are curious in such matters, a search among the Chancery records
will probably reveal the result, but it is improbable that the Company
reaped any benefit from their action. And so she passes from the scene, a
curious example of the vicissitudes to which Englishwomen in India were
exposed, two hundred years ago.
[1] They were issued at the rate of sixty-five for a rupee; before long,
their value was reduced to seventy-two for a rupee, at which price
they were much in request, and the Governor reported that he expected
to coin sixteen tons of them yearly.
[2] In October, 1713, the Bombay Council decided that the Xeraphims, being
much debased with copper and other alloy, their recognized value
should in future be half a rupee, or two Laris and forty reis. The
Xeraphim was a Goa coin, originally worth less than one and sixpence.
The name, according to Yule, was a corruption of the Arabic _ashrafi_.
[3] The year before, the _Godolphin_ had escaped from an Angrian fleet,
after a two days' encounter within sight of Bombay.
[4] The records are silent as to the _Defiance_, but it is mentioned by
Downing, who says that, instead of doing his duty, the captain made
the best of his way to Bombay. The story seems to be borne out by a
faded letter from the captain to the Directors, appealing against
dismissal from the service.
[5] The name is now given to the group of islands to which Bourbon and
Mauritius belong. At that time it generally applied to Bourbon, and
especially to St. Paul's Bay, which was a favourite place of call for
ships to water at.
[6] According to some accounts, the first settlement was a few years
earlier, but the dates of the early travellers are very unreliable.
Hamilton says that a present was sent in 1685 to the Queen; "A
beautiful young English gentleman had the honour to present it to her
black Majesty; and as soon as the Queen saw him, she fell in love with
him, and next day made proposals of marriage to him, but he modestly
refused so great an honour however, to please her Majesty, he staid at
court a month or two and satisfied her so well that when he left her
court she made him some presents."
[7] Bruce.
[8] This is the reason given by Bruce for Brabourne leaving Anjengo, but
the death of Brabourne's wife, in 1704, probably had a good deal to do
with his leaving the place. Her tomb still exists.
[9] Tranqueira (Port.), a palisade.
[10] Meaning sequin: the origin of the modern Anglo-Indianism, chick.'
[11] The father of Robert Orme, the historian, who was born at Anjengo.
[12] Letter from Court of Directors to Bombay, 25th March, 1724.
INDEX
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