FORT ST. GEORGE
When the tract of land at Madras had been formally acquired, the
European colony at Armagaum was forthwith shipped thereto (February,
1640). According to accounts, the colony, with Mr. Andrew Cogan at the
head, assisted by Mr. Francis Day and perhaps another chief official,
included some three or four British 'writers,' a gunner, a surgeon, a
garrison of some twenty-five British soldiers under a lieutenant and a
sergeant, a certain number of English carpenters, blacksmiths and
coopers, and a small staff of English servants for kitchen and general
work.
'Madras was a sandy beach ... where the English began by erecting
straw huts.' So says an old-time chronicle,[1] the work of an early
resident of Madras; and, if we take the word 'straw' in a broad sense,
we can easily conceive the scene. In Madras the bamboo and the palmyra
grow in abundance, furnishing materials for the quick provision of
cheap and commodious accommodation; and we can picture the pilgrim
fathers of Madras camped in palmyra-thatched mat-sheds on the north
bank of the Cooum river, near the bar, the while that the houses
within the plan of the fort are being built.
[Footnote 1: The chronicle was written by Manucci, an Italian doctor
of an adventurous disposition, who, after varied and surprising
experiences in northern India, settled down in Madras in 1686, and
married a Eurasian widow. 'Manucci's Garden,' where he lived, covered
a large area which is now occupied by a number of the houses at the
Law College end of Popham's Broadway, on the side that is nearest the
sea. The garden was watered by a stream that used to flow where the
Broadway tram-lines now hold their course. _Vide_ map, p. 10.]
[Illustration: MADRAS about 1710, A.D.]
[Illustration: Modern map (approximate) corresponding to the foregoing
map. (1) Old black Town is no more. (2) the Fort was extended about
1750. To provide ground, the Cooum was diverted. (3) The sea has
receded.]
The 'sandy beach' has been waked from its longaeval placidity. Trains
of bullock-carts are lumbering along new-made tracks, bringing stone
and laterite and bricks and timber from various centres; and endless
files of coolies, with baskets on their heads, are bringing sand from
the summer-dry edges of the bed of the Cooum river. In the foreground
of the picture, scores of chattering village-labourers, from
Triplicane and other hamlets hard by, are working under the directions
of the mechanical employees of the Company, chipping stone, mixing
lime, sawing timber, carrying bricks and stones and mortar, or laying
them adroitly in place, with little dependence on line and level.
In the course of a few months the buildings were sufficiently advanced
for occupation. The main building was the 'factory,' which formerly
signified a mercantile office; and it was here that the Company's
chief officials, who were styled 'factors' (agents), assisted by
writers and apprentices, transacted the Company's business, and were
also lodged. Included amongst the buildings were warehouses for the
Company's goods, and also barrack-like residences for the Company's
subordinate British employees, civil and military, according to their
rank.
From the very beginning the settlement was called Fort St. George, but
it was several years before the buildings were surrounded by a high
and fortified wall. It was in no spirit of military aggression that
the Company's agents enclosed their settlement with a bastioned
rampart, from whose battlements big cannon frowned on all sides round.
The Company's representatives were 'gentle merchaunts,' to whom peace
spelt prosperity; but the times were lawless, and the gentle merchants
were wise enough to recognize that days might come when it would be
necessary to defend their merchandise and themselves, as well as the
town of Madras, from the roving robber or the princely raider or the
revengeful trade-rival, and that military preparedness was a dictate
of prudence. The days came!
On such occasions the excitement in Fort St. George must have been
great. We can imagine the anxiety with which, when the sentry gave the
alarm, the gentle merchants climbed upon the walls and looked out at
the horsemen that were to be descried in the distance, and asked one
another disconsolately whether it was in peace or in war that they
came. A brief notice of some of the occasions on which the Fort was in
danger will be interesting.
Some fifty years after the Fort had been founded, a party of soldiers
under the Commander-in-Chief of the Mohammedan King of Golconda
pursued some of the King's enemies into Madras, "burning and Robbing
of houses, and taking the Companies Cloth and goods," whereupon the
Governor of the Fort sent them word that "he would use means to force
them out of the Towne: Uppon which they retreated out of shott of the
Fort." They returned, however, with additional strength, and for eight
months they besieged the stronghold, but without success; and then
they wearied of their hopeless endeavour, and marched away.
Later, a Dutch force, supported by Mohammedan cavalry, besieged San
Thome, which was then in the hands of the French; and for the purpose
of the siege they occupied Triplicane village, mounting their cannon
within the walls of Triplicane Temple, which they used as a fort.
During the several weeks of the siege of San Thome a powerful Dutch
squadron blockaded the coast of Madras; and, as Britain and Holland
were at war in Europe, there was constant anxiety in Fort St. George;
but the Dutchmen contented themselves with the capture of San Thome,
and were prudent enough to let Fort St. George alone.
In the days of Queen Anne, Da-ud Khan, Nawab of the Carnatic, at the
head of a large force, was reported to be marching to Madras. In Fort
St. George there was much anxiety as to the purpose of his visit, and
'By order of the Governor and Council' various protective measures
were immediately proclaimed. The proclamation is to be found in full
in the Company's Minutes; and we find an amusing reminder of the
Company's mercantile _raison d'etre_ in the fact that immediately
after the military edicts comes the order 'That all the Company's
cloth be brought from the washers, washed and unwashed, to prevent its
being plundered.' The Nawab came, and he uttered threats, but he was
mollified with luxurious entertainment. Inviting himself and his dewan
and his chamberlain to dinner with the Governor and Councillors in the
Fort, he was received with imposing honours, and was feasted in the
Council Chamber at a magnificent banquet. The minutes relate that
after dinner he was "diverted with the dancing wenches," and finally
he got "very Drunk." At breakfast the next day in the Company's
'Garden,' His Highness again got "very drunk and fell a Sleep;" and a
few days later he marched his army away. In his sober moments,
however, he had been slyly measuring the Company's strength; and six
months later he came back with a larger force, and blockaded Madras.
He plundered all that he could, and on one occasion his spoil included
"40 ox loads of the Company's cloth." For more than three months the
blockade continued, and the Company's trade was entirely stopped, and
provisions in Madras were exceedingly scarce. Da-ud Khan, eventually
wearying of the unsuccessful siege, named the price that would buy him
off; and the Council, fearing the wrath of the Directors at the loss
of their trade, were glad to come to terms. The Company's Minute on
the occasion is a brief but exultant record: 'The siege is raised!'
In 1746 there was a siege of a more serious sort. England and France
were at war in Europe, and suddenly a squadron of French ships
appeared off Fort St. George. After a week's siege, the English
merchants capitulated to superior force, and they were all sent to
Pondicherry as prisoners, and the French flag waved over Madras; but
by the treaty which ended the war, Madras was restored to the Company.
Twelve years later Madras was once more besieged by the French, but
unsuccessfully, and eventually the French leaders marched their forces
away, quarrelling among themselves over their ill-success.
On several occasions, bodies of horsemen in the service of the
adventurous Haidar Ali of Mysore, raided the country almost up to the
Fort ditch, and were sometimes to be seen shaking their spears in
defiance at the sentries on its walls.
These were not the only occasions on which Fort St. George was
assailed, but they suffice to show how necessary it was that the
Company's employees and their wares should be housed within the walls
of a fort.
Fort St. George in the beginning was very small. Its external length
parallel with the seashore was 108 yards, and its breadth was 100
yards. When White Town, which grew up around it, was fortified, there
was 'a fort within a fort' (_vide_ Map, p. 10); but eventually the
inner wall was demolished. At various times the outer wall has been
altered, but the Fort as we have it to-day is the selfsame Fort St.
George nevertheless, a glorious relic of bygone times, and verily a
history in stone.
The gates of Fort St. George open towards main thoroughfares of
Madras, and it is permitted to anybody to pass in and out; but it is
not visited nearly so much as its historic associations deserve. Let
us pass within, and see if we cannot catch something like inspiration
from the scene where so much history has been made, and where a great
Empire was born.
[Illustration: CLIVE'S HOUSE]
An old-world feeling comes over us directly we leave the highroad and
make our way down the sloped passage and across the drawbridge over
the moat, past the massive gates and under the echoing tunnel that
leads through the mighty walls. Within we see the parapets on which in
bygone days the cannon thundered at the foe. We pass on into the great
spaces of the Fort; and in our imagination we can people them with
ghosts of the illustrious--or notorious--dead. It was here that, in
the reign of King James the Second, Master Elihu Yale assumed the
Governorship of Madras, did hard work in the Company's behalf but also
made a large fortune for himself, lost his son aged four, quarrelled
long and bitterly with his councillors, and was at last superseded. It
was here that Robert Clive, aged nineteen, newly arrived from
England, entered upon his duties as an apprenticed writer in the
Company's service, at a salary of five pounds per annum; it was here,
in St. Mary's Church, eight years later, when he had won his first
laurels, that he married the sister of one of the fellow-writers of
his griffinhood; and it was here, in 'Clive's House,' which is still
to be seen (now the Office of the Accountant-General), that he lived
with his wife. The ancient Council Chamber is replete with historic
associations; and St. Mary's Church offers material for many
researchful and meditative visits. The streets have history in their
names. 'Charles and James Street,' for example, which is a present-day
combination of two streets of yore, is jointly commemorative of the
days of the Merry Monarch and of his royal but unfortunate brother.
Enough! It is not my purpose to produce a guide-book to Madras, but to
promote an appreciation of the historic interests of the city; and I
take it that the reader has realized that Fort St. George is
interesting indeed.