Whish & Kindersley discoverers of the Nilgiris Plateau?

Nelliala,possibly the site of a 1805 military post,
at a place called Nelliyalam today.


History has a habit of changing, and quite often the "established facts" in any history book actually turn out to be incorrect or at best are questionable.

While researching the route that Thomas Baber took in 1823 up to the Nilgiris from Calicut, I discovered an intriguing fact.

It was not in fact John Sullivan who first discovered the Nilgiris plateau at Ootacamund, as is generally believed, but two of his junior officials who had set out from the eastern side of ghats in pursuit of tobacco smugglers who were regularly using it. These officials were J.C. Whish, the Assistant Collector from Coimbatoor and N.W. Kindersley, the Second Assistant Collector also from Coimbatoor.

An interesting connection existed however with Calicut, because J.C. Whish had a brother C.M. Whish who was a magistrate in Calicut during years around 1819, and who shared a common interest in Hindu and Sanskrit texts and astronomy with Thomas Baber.

C.M. Whish was a very gifted linguist and he was able understand the religious texts that he found in the temples in Tellicherry and Calicut well enough to be able to recognise that they contained complex calendars, astronomical calculations and predictions for the return periods of comets.

In 1819 and quite possibly at earlier dates as well, Thomas Baber and Whish met frequently in Tellicherry and at Calicut to work on the texts of the Vedas and other related texts. Thomas Baber was already familar with routes up the Ghats as were other local officials like Waddell and C. M. Whish.

Had Whish told his brother in Coimbatoor about these favoured peaks?

Did the brothers ever meet on the top of the Ghats?

We will probably never know, but it is just possible that they did.

The story of the original journey to the Nilgiris Plateau by Whish and Kindersley is as follows: -

"From the year 1799 up to 1819, these mountains were in the daily view of all the authorities from the plains of the Coimbatoor province, and a revenue was collected from them for the Company by a renter (a Chitty) and paid into the Cutchery of the collector of that province. But of the country nothing was then known.

After twenty years' possession by the Company, two young civilians, Messrs. Whish and Kindersley, were induced, in consequence of the maltreatment of some Ryots in the low country, by a Polygar, who fled up the pass of Danaynkeucottah, to follow his track; and not being- encumbered with him as a prisoner, they afterwards proceeded to reconnoitre a little of the interior of the hills, as they had for some time before intended. Their first halt was at a village called Dynaud, about nine miles to the eastward of Kotagherry near Rungasamy Peak, (the most sacred mountain- on the Neilgherries), where they found the man they were in search of, in a hut. He was exceedingly polite in offering refreshments to the gentlemen, and pretending to go for some milk, took the opportunity of making good his retreat!

They then proceeded across the hills, and descended by the Keloor Pass. But they had seen and felt quite enough to excite their own curiosity and that of the collector, Mr. Sullivan, who, establishing his general residence there, continued to live in this delightful climate with his family, in health and comfort, for the greatest part of the succeeding ten years."[1]

The story behind this pass over the ghats, goes back much earlier than the date of first European journeys across it. The pass had been used by Indian traders for many years and probably centuries. The Badaga Gaudas had migrated along it from the Wayanad as they colonised the slopes of the Nigrilis during the 18th century.

Following the imposition of the tobacco monopoly by the East India Company, it had become a favoured smugglers route, as is described by R Baikie, in 1834, in the following paragraph.

"The only other pass which remains to be described, is the Koondah Pass, which is but little known to the public, being as yet merely marked out, and frequented by Mopilas bringing up various articles, and smuggling tobacco* down. It was marked out by my friend Lieutenant LeHardy, then of the Pioneer corps, now of the Commissariat Department, and does great credit to his skill, perseverance, and ingenuity. It commences at Canoot, at the base of the hills on the Malabar side, and ascending through a deep ravine filled with wood, a distance of 12 miles, reaches the summit of the Koondahs, and crossing them, descends upon the central-table land of the Neelgherries, and reaches Ootacamund, 30 miles from the head of the pass. The slope is so gradual as never to exceed If inches in the foot, and the road, owing to certain obstructions, is in many places level, in others surmounts them by short zig-zags. From Canoot, at the foot of the pass, to Arricode, on the Baypoor river, is 16 miles, and thence to Calicut, on the coast, by the river, (here navigable at all seasons for large boats,) is 28 miles. When this road is (as I hope and trust it will speedily be) fairly opened and made practicable even for bullocks, horses, and palankeens, it will doubtless soon become one of the most frequented, particularly by travellers from Calcutta and Bombay.

* The road, as now marked out, closely follows a path frequented by these tobacco smugglers, who formerly carried on this trade to a great extent. Tobacco is grown in large quantities in Coimbatoor, but Government have a monopoly of it in Malabar, and a heavy duty is charged on it, on entering the latter province; the consequence of which is, an extensive contraband trade, principally across the Neelgherries, as being less liable to interruption. If I am rightly informed, the original discovery of the hills was owing to this circumstance ; Messrs. Whish and Kindersley, of the Civil Service, (in 1819,) having pursued a band of smugglers up a small pass to the N. E. of Kotagherry, and thus become acquainted with the existence of a table-land with an European climate."[2]

However even Whish and Kindersley were almost certainly not the first European travellers onto the top of the Nilgiris.

Tipu's Armies had descended from Mysore into Malabar over the same route, as well as some of the other passes in the 1780's. These armies had contained many French soldiers and officers. Had they in fact been the first European's who passed over the Ooty route?

In the course of the 1796 to 1806 Pazhassi Rajah's struggle against the East India Company a series of posts had been established on top of the highest peaks, in order to try to trap and contain the attacks by the Rajah's supporters.

These were manned by small parties of East India Company soldiers, and the posts appear in many cases to have had intervisibility over the jungles and scrub making up the surrounding tablelands. One post was situated on top of Banasura, and another was at Nelliala, now called Nelliyalam.




"The possible outline of a breast work from 1805 on top of Nelliala"[3]

Websites and gazetteers describe the village as it then was as having been the home of the Nelliyalam Rani (as also called Ratti in some websites, is this right?), and explain that remains of her fort remain to be seen.

It is possible that the ruins on top of this hill are the remains of the Rani's fort, however to me they look far too irregular and poorly built to have been even a minor palace or fort.

The other rulers buildings that I have visited in the area, and especially those built before the arrival of the Europeans appear to have been of higher quality in their construction, and even when ruined leave a far more regular and substantial set of footings.

Consider the ruins at Sultan Bathory for instance.

Does anybody who comes from this area have the time to visit the peak of this mountain and to take photograph of these ruins?

Can anybody confirm that this is indeed the site of the Rani's palace, because I have no idea where in Nelliyalam the palace was actually located, and it might have been at another location in the area entirely, that I have failed to spot on Google Earth.

Of course it is entirely possible even if this had been the site of the palace that the British soldiers and Sepoys had moved into its ruins to make their camp.

From this site the soldiers could have looked out over the surrounding area for signs of trouble. It is quite possible that they had the use of telegraph signals between the posts, as was the case between Portsmouth and London and between the posts of Wellingtons army stationed on the Lines of Torres Vedras a few years later in Portugal during the Napoleonic Wars.

The route along the ridge is described by several travellers including Thomas Baber writing in about 1830.

"I left Ottakail Karumba at 10 A. M. on the 11th, and arrived at Koodaloor about 1 p.m. About half-a-mile from the karumba, I reached the road I constructed in 1806, from Nelliala in Parakatneatil, to Nambolacota, and continued along it until within three miles of Koodaloor, where is yet to be traced the course of the high road formerly constructed by Tippoo, by the Caracole Pass to South Malabar; after going about a mile along it, I struck off to the right, by a path which led to Koodaloor, a village at the post of Neddibett, the pass leading up the famed Neelghurries. Koodaloor is a village of Baddagurs, containing between 20 and 30 houses. There are a few Kottara's houses in its vicinity. Here I was met by the Narabolacota Waranoor, attended by his dependants, and nearly all the inhabitants of Nambolacota. I halted in consequence here for the night, and obtained from them the following information respecting the Neelghurries."[4]

This line of posts appears to have run as far as Gudalur, or Koodalur as it was spelt in 1806.

It is highly likely that the troops stationed in Gudalur patrolled out into the surrounding valleys, and that as the land returned to peace after the Pazhassi Rajah had been defeated in November, that the officers commanding at these posts hunted and rode out into the surrounding area. The track over the crest into what became Ooty was already in regular use by Indian traders.

I believe the Ooty area was first visited by Europeans possibly as early as 1780, and certainly by 1806.

Who were these officers, and do accounts of their trips survive?


[1]From Narrative of a Journey to the Falls of the Cavery; with an historical and Descriptive Account of the Neilgherry Hills. Published 1834 by Smith Elder, London, Page 33. By Lieutenant H Jervis, H. M. 62nd Regt.

[2] Observations on the Neilgherries, including an account of their Topography, Climate , Soil & Productions and of the Effects Climate, on the Europan Constitution, by R Baikie Esq. M.D. Published Calcutta 1834, page 4.

[3] 11 degrees 30' 41.20" N 46 degrees 19' 56.90"E.

[4] Pages 313-314, Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut, Asiatic Journal (New Series) III.

Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut. Part 3.

In the following extract, Thomas Baber describes the local gold mining and panning activities that he had observed as he reached the summit of the ghats.


"The following information I also gathered from the chetties and a putter Brahmin, in the service of the waranoor, respecting the situations where, and mode in which, golden ores was extracted in the Nambolacotta hobeley. The whole of the soil in the mountains, hills and paddy fields, and beds of rivers, is impregnated with this valuable metal; but it is only in or near watercourses, and consequently in the cholas, nullas, ruts, and breaks in the mountains, and in the beds of rivers, that gold was dug for. The operations commences by removing the crust of black earth; when the soil becomes reddish, it is dug up, and putty into a patty (a kind of wooden tray hollowed in the centre) which is then submerged in water, just enough to overflow it and no more, and kept in an undulating motion with one hand, while the earth is stirred up with the other, until all the earthy particles are washed nearly out of it; a black sediment is left in the hollow, consisting of a mixture of black sand, iron, and gold particles. The patty is then taken out of the water, and one end of it being elevated, the other resting on the ground, the sand, &c. are separated from the gold, by throwing water gently with the hand down the board. The golden particles are then obtained by amalgamation with quicksilver, and in this state are enclosed in a piece of wet tobacco-leaf, which being placed in a crucible, or more generally, between two pieces of lighted charcoal, the heat causes the quicksilver to evaporate, and simultaneously to consolidate the particles of gold. When the gold is found in small lumps, which is often the case in the beds of rivers, there is no occasion for the use of quicksilver or heat. Two persons are employed to each patty, one to dig the earth, the other to hold the patty, wash the earth away, and extract and unite, by means of quicksilver, the golden particles. Each patty pays a tax to government of 3 rupees per month, which, my informers added, absorbed two-thirds of the nett profits; and from the wretched appearance of the persons employed in working the patties, it is evident they are miserably paid. There are remains of pits in which gold was extracted formerly, but they are in utter disuse, owing it is said, to the danger from the earth falling in, not having the skill to support the earth. Gold is to be met with in the beds of rivers, both above and below, to the west and south-west side of the Neelgheerie and Coodanad mountains, as well as in the mountains; nothing , however, is known of its geonostic habitudes, or even localities, as far as regards veins, than that it is found in red earth, as far as the strata extend, in high grounds; and in white earth, below the black crust, in swamps and paddy fields; also in stones dug up at a great depth in beds of rivers. But the most productive places are small nullas, or rather ruts and breaks in the ground, into which the course of the water is most likely to drive the metal during the rainy season. Hence it is that more patties are worked in the rainy, than in the fair season. From the above description, the following conclusions may be drawn; -- first, that golden ore is homogeneous to the soil in the mountains and hills; and, secondly, that what is found in beds of rivers, and water-courses, has fortuitously been brought down by the rains. The very existence of gold would seem to call for a more extended examination, as it might lead to the most important results, both in greater quantity and better quality than any yet met with."[1]

[1]Pages 313-314, Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut, Asiatic Journal (New Series) III.

Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut. Part 2.

Left Nellamboor at 8 A.M. on the 9th, and arrived at Eddakarra at 12. For the first mile the road is through jungle over paramba, or high ground, terminated as usual by a slip of paddy field, and continues so, alternately, parramba and low lands, to the Karunbara river, which also takes its rise at Mangerri Mala, and falls into the Beypoor river about three miles east of Nellumboor. The ferry is called Yânandy and Pallikote Kádâwâ. Here I found a small ferry, and three or four bamboo rafts ready for me: it is fordable only in the fair season. From this river the roads leads, as before, over high and low lands to the Kalakùmpora river, which takes its rise in the Ella Mala, south of Caracote, and falls into the Beypoor river at Walloosherry; the ferry is called Neddumbary Kadawa: though deep and rapid, it is less difficult to cross than at Yanandy. Here also I found a ferry and rafts. From this river the roads leads through an extensive forest jungle, intersected here and there by uncultivated marshes, to the Neddumbary Kollum, a farm belonging also to the Teeroopad, in the middle of an extensive range of paddy fields, where the road is chiefly paramba or high land, for about two miles, to a range of paddy fields named Eddakerrapoilel, at the south-east end of which is a kollum belonginf also to Tachara Teeroopad. The river (Beypoor) approaches it about half a mile to the eastward, and is practicable, for small boats, for ten months in the year. The distance from Nellumboor to this kollum is about eight miles. Nothing can exceed the magnificence of the scenery from the openings in the low lands: both to the right and left, as well as in front, an endless succession of huge mountains, ranging from 3000 to 5000 feet high, clothed with forest jungles, the highest peaks of some of which are 1000 or 2000 feet above the table land of the great chain, called the Gâat Mountains. Those to the right form the table land of the Koondee hills in the Neelghurries. Here literally, as Mickle says, “hills peep o’er hills, and gâats on gâats arise.” Although the monsoon has set in only five days, the rain is pouring in torrents down the sides of the mountains, forming some most beautiful cascades and cataracts. These mountains are the famed teak forests. The chief owner of them is Táchàràkàwil Teeroopad. The largest is Kalla Mala, and runs south-east and north-west, and divides Tiroowambady, or the north-eastern most deshums of Porawye, from Ernaad; up the Waddakarry, there is a pass into Wynaad, that comes out at Koonyore Cota.



Map showing the route taken by Thomas Baber in 1823, part 2. Please click on the map for a larger version.


Left Eddakarra at 4 P.M., and reached Caracote Eddom at sun-set. The road leads through forests, chiefly of teakwood of the largest description, the property of the Nambolacota Waranoor. Midway there are two small rivers, one called Calcum (which takes its rise in the Kombula Mala, and falls into the Beypoor river, near Eddakarra); the other, Caracode, and takes its rise at Davalla, at the top of Carcote Pass; both are at all times fordable. Boats have been known to go up as far as Kodderrypara, which is only two miles west of Caracote. The Caracote Eddom is a farm belonging to the Nambola Cota Waranoor: it is a miserable building, and the only one, excepting a few surrounding huts, inhabited by pariars (slaves.)

Left Caracote at 8 A.M. on the 10th. The first mile and a half is through forest jungle, and so very thick that, had not the road been opened for me, it would have been impossible to have taken my palanqueen further on. The pass is over a succession of mountains covered with forest jungle, until within a mile of the top, -- the whole of which space is nearly bare of trees. The ascent commences at the southern bank of the Wellakatta river, which is fordable at all seasons. For the first few hundred yards, the ascent is not at all difficult; it then becomes exceedingly rugged, and thus it continues alternately easy and steep, in some places precipitous, to within a mile of the top, where it is one continued ascent (forming an angle of 45o ) to Nadkhang, the name given to the summit of the pass, which I reached about midday, having walked nearly the whole of the way. To the left of the pass, within a mile of the top, I observed several persons working in the vicinity of ravines or breaks in the mountains, where golden ore was being extracted. The surface of the ground appeared to have been excavated about a hundred yards in circumference. There was no getting to them owing to the immense chasms between them and me. From Nadkhang to Davalacota, the distance is about four miles: the road, which is a mere foot-path, goes over bare hills (very steep) nearly the whole way. Davalacota is the occasional residence of the Nambolacotta Waranoor. I found here a chetty names Kalapen, whose business it was to light up the shrine of the Waranoor’s household god (named Ayrawelby Paradawar). The approach is extremely difficult, and utterly impracticable for horse or palanquin.

I halted here about an hour; during which time I ascertained that there was a pass leading direct from Davalacota to Caracota Eddom, over the Koothrakela Malla, and about two-thirds of the length of the Caracota pass, and comes out at a place called Kallankooty Manna, about three miles from Caracota Eddom. By the Malabars this pass is called Kata-Mooka; by the Baddagurs of Davalacota, Gullikotoo.

From Davalacota I proceeded to Ottakail-Karaumba; the distance is about one mile and a half. This kararumba is a farm belonging to the Nambolacotta Waranoor, Narangawittel Arashen, the steward of the Waranoor’s estates, as far as the Kakkhang Tode, or nulla, within four miles of Nambolacotta. There are about a dozen houses in its vicinity. I halted here during the night, and had a long conversation with the inhabitants, who are chiefly Badagurs. Speaking of the Neelghurries, they (the Baddagurs) said, “they originally came from those hills, and where more or less connected with all the Baddagurs, and particularly those in the Koondee-Nâd; they spoke in grateful terms of improved condition of the Neelghurries, since Mr. Sullivan took up his abode amongst them, having previously been left to the mercy of those to whom the hills were yearly farmed out.

Pages 311-313, Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut, Asiatic Journal (New Series) III.

Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut. Part 1.

The Beypoor River, close to the point where Thomas Baber set off from on his journey to the Nilgiris Hills.

When I visited Beypore in December 2006, I knew that is was highly likely that I was following in Thomas Baber's footsteps, however at that time I had no proof that he had ever actually been to the town.

Recently however I have discovered the following account that he wrote in 1830, and which was subsequently published in the Asiatic Journal[1] describing a journey that he had made in 1823, from Calicut to the Nilgiris Hills.

The account makes it clear that he had been present in the area inland of Kozhikode as early as 1802, however at that time it is unlikely that he reached as far inland has the tops of Ghats themselves.

Thomas Baber was a contemporary of John Sullivan, the Collector of Coimbatore who is credited with founding Ootacamund. Sullivan first explored the region in January 1819, reaching the hills from Salem coming up from the eastern side of the hills.

The route in from the east, whilst considerably longer, is much less steep than the shorter route from the western seaboard up over the ghats. The route from Beypore to Ootacamund is about 110 miles long, and climbs up over the 6,000 feet high ghats.

In 1822 Sullivan returned to the hills to build his house, the first European house on the site. During the following year 1823, Sullivan brought his wife to the newly built stone house.

When he arrived at "Ottakamund" on the 13th of June 1823, Thomas Baber must have been one of the very first visitors to Sullivan's new house.

They were both to suffer for their shared interest in improving the conditions of the local Indian's. Like Sullivan in the Nilgiris, Thomas Baber was also experimenting a few miles to the north in the Wayanad with new crops and with ways of encouraging improved forms of agriculture amongst the local tribesmen in the hills.

This journal is interesting both as a record of the changing situations in the rural parts of Malabar following the areas occupation of the region by the East India Company. Thomas, who was often highly critical of the East India Company officials and their public administration of the area, was able to compare the situation in the villages over time, and was in a position to contrast the villages shortly after 1800 with the conditions in the 1820's.

It has proved possible to match the account with maps of the area made in the 1950's and with Google Earth images. I hope one day to return to the area and to repeat the journey.

The account is too long for a single post, so I will break it up into sections to post over the coming weeks.

Thomas wrote the account, which appeared in the Asiatic Journal, whilst living in retirement in Hanwell, a small village to the west of London. Perhaps in that first cold November after thirty four years in India, he was already beginning to miss the area. After two years in a much changed Britain, and missing his family in India, he returned to live out the remainder of his life in India in 1833.

Thomas was to return to Ootacamund on a number of occasions during the final part of his life. On one of these visits in 1841, his son Henry Fearon Baber married the Honourable Maria Jane Harris grand daughter of Lord Harris of Seringapatam on the 26th of September 1841 at Ootacamund.


GEOGRAPHY OF MALABAR.
To the Editor.

SIR: As every thing relating to the salubrious climate of the Neelghurries, Anglice “Blue Mountains,” on the coast of Malabar, must be interesting to all sojourners in India, I venture to submit the accompanying revised journal of a route from Calicut, via the river of Beypoor and passes of Carcote and Neddibett, in the year 1823.
With reference to the account given therein of the gold mines, and the mode in which that valuable metal is obtained, it appears to be deserving of the consideration of scientific persons, how far it would be desirable speculation to apply to the East-India Company for their permission to send out qualified persons to make the attempt to ascertain, by a local investigation and examination, the probable extent of the riches contained in the bowels of the earth in that portion of our Indian empire.

I am, Sir, &c.
Hanwell,15th Nov. 1830. T.H. Baber.


JOURNAL OF A ROUTE TO THE NEELGHURRIES FROM CALICUT.

By T.H. Baber, Esq.

LEFT Calicut at 5 P.M., 5th June 1823, and reached the ferry called Mammaly Kadawer, on the Beypoor river, at sun-set, (distance six miles); embarked in one boat, my servants following in another: after rowing all night, reached Ariacotta [2], (a bazaar on the banks of the Beypoor river,) about 7 A.M. – Average distance from Calicut to Ariacotta eight Malabar coss, or thirty-two English miles. I found Ariacotta Angâdy very much fallen off since I last visited it (1803); then there were between two and three hundred houses; at present the number is hardly one hundred. Owing, as the three head men stated, to the timber[3] , tobacco, and salt monopolies, particularly the first, which gave employment to a large proportion of the population of both this and the neighbouring Angâdies and Deshoms, on the banks of the Beypoor river.

Left Ariacotta[2] on the 7th at 8 A.M. The first two miles is by the high road from Ariacotta to Manjerry, after which a path to the left leads through a jungle for about half-a-mile to an open country for about two miles, terminated by a paddy field, intersected by a nulla, dry in the fair, but with about four feet water in the rainy season. About a hundred yards to the right is the illum (house) of the Pooliora Namboory, a land proprietor of considerable influence. After crossing this nulla, the road leads through a jungle for about a mile-and-half: about midway there is a nulla fordable during the fair season, but containing from five to six feet water during the monsoon. Here the road takes a circuitous direction to the right, open ground the whole way (about four miles) to the paddy fields in the vicinity of the Yadamunna Angâdy , in the centre of which is a nulla very difficult for a horse or palanquin to pass in the rainy season; for foot passengers there is a log of wood over a narrow part of the nulla.

Arrived at Yadamunna[4] about 1 P.M. This bazaar is also on the banks of the Beypoor river, and is in a very deplorable state, partly owing to the same causes as Ariacotta, and partly to the turbulent dispositions of its inhabitants. All the worst characters have, however, been removed by death or banishment, and there is little danger to be apprehended of any further attempts to disturb the peace of the country. There are about eighty houses, most of them in very bad condition.



Map showing the first stage of Thomas Babers route to Ootacamund. The actual route is coloured brown. Please click on the map for a larger version.

Started at 3 P.M. for, and arrived at, Mombât Angady,[5] at 5 P.M. The first part of the road leads through jungle along the banks of the Beypoor river; about a quarter of a mile from Yadamunna is a nulla at all times fordable, and another about two miles and a half further on, only passable in boats in the rainy season. Here the country becomes more open, and continues so the whole way to the nulla at the foot of the Mombât Angady, which is always fordable excepting for a few days during the height of the monsoon. Mombat is a Mopilla town, also on the banks of the Beypoor river; it contains about eighty houses, or about half the former number; until within the last twenty years a considerable trade used to be carried on here with the Balagat inhabitants, alias highlanders, viz, Nambolacotta, Parakameetil in Wynaas, Poonat or Mysore, Davaraiputton, and the Neelghurries, but has ceased since the plunder and massacre of a Baddagur, native of the Neelghurries, at Mombat, by a Mopilla maraunder named Cunhy Olan Cooty, who was executed in 1802. The people expressed a strong desire for the revival of this trade, which they said would be much facilitated by the establishment of an Oopakood, or salt gola, and of a shandy, or weekly fair, at Mombat, and probably nothing would contribute so much to humanize the Mopilla population, or tend more to the prosperity of this and the rest of the towns bordering on the Beypoor river, as the renewal of this trade.

Left Mombât on the 8th at 8, and arrived at Nellumboor at 10 A.M. The first two miles of the road is a mere jungle path, where it joins the high road from Manjerry by Wandoor, to Nellumboor. About a mile further on is the river Trikâkoon[6], fordable only during the fair season. It takes its rise at the Munjerri Mala, one of the Gâat mountains, and joins the Beypoor river about a mile east of Mombât, at a place called Moothraketty; I crossed it by means of a bamboo raft. From this river to Nellumboor, the distance is two miles and a half. Here I was met by the Kâristary, or Minister of Tachârâ Kawil Teeroopad, the Nellumboor Nadwâri, who had had the politeness to have the road opened the whole way from the Trikâkoon river to his easternmost farm called Eddakarra, a distance of about ten miles. Within one hundred yards of Nellumboor I was met by the Teeroopad himself, who conducted me to a house he had prepared for my reception.

Nellumboor is the ancient residence of this Nadwari. The kowlgum[7] or palace is on the bank of the Beypoor river, surrounded with a high mud wall. There are from twenty to thirty Nair houses, occupied exclusively by his dependants, and a pagoda dedicated to Watakara the Paradevar (household god) of the Teeroopad family. The Teeroopad and his Kuriastan were very earnest in their wishes for the re-establishment of the commercial intercourse between the lower and upper countries by the Caracote pass, and seemed to think that the facilities for trade were much greater by this than any of the other passes leading through Wynaad.


[1]Pages 310-311, Journal of a Route to the Neelghurries from Calicut, Asiatic Journal (New Series) III.
[2] Ariacotta = Arikkod
[3] The timber monopoly has been abolished since this was written. Thomas was a strong critic of this monoploy, campaigning over many years for its removal.
[4] Yadamunna = Vadapuram.
[5] In November 1827, when I again visited the Neelghurries, I came by water as far as Mombat. [now Mambad]
[6] Trikakoon= Vada Auram Puzha
[7] An upper room has been lately built by the Teeroopad over the outer gate-way or entrance, purposely for the accommodation of travellers.

Arriving at Tellicherry in the 1830's.

Tellicherry in 1778

For most people travelling to Tellicherry, [or Thalassery as it is now known.] in the 1830's, the usual arrival route was by sea.

Henry Bevan, an officer from the 27th Regiment of the Madras Native Infantry, describes the town in the 1830's his book "Thirty Years in India: Or A Soldier's Reminiscences of Native and European in the Presidencies from 1808 to 1838".

Bevan had commanded the Wynaad Rangers in the 1820's, and knew the area well. He like Thomas Baber, gave evidence in the House of Lords to the Select Committee on the Affairs of the East India Company in August 1832, which enquired into conditions in India, and it is very likely that they knew each other well.

"Tellicherry ,a large town, with a good open roadstead, is about fourteen miles south of Cannanore. It has a considerable trade with Bombay and the Persian Gulf, to which it exports shark’s fins, rice pepper, arrow-root, cocoa-nuts, and coir; importing in return horses, dried fruits, and Chinese and European goods. It is a civil station, and consequently the residence of ten English functionaries. It was famed at this period for the hospitality and good feeling which prevailed in its social circles. But European society in India is subject to sad vicissitudes; death, and an anxiety to retire with the fruits of long toil to the parent land, soon break up the communities formed at the stations; and of those who, in 1824, rendered Tellicherry one of the most delightful stations to visit, scarcely one remains." [1]

Lieutenant Robert Mignan, a much travelled officer serving in the Bombay European Regiment, arrived by sea at Tellicherry during April 1833, to try to recover both his own health, and also that of his wife. Travelling with four small children, he was heading for the Nilgiri Hills which were becoming popular as a health resort, where officials and soldiers could recuperate after several years in the plains or on campaigns.

Arriving in a Pattimar [2], a fast fore and aft rigged Indian coastal sailing vessel off the coast.

“At the mellowed sunset of an April evening, we caught a glimpse of the coast of stretching in a fine outline from North to South. The prospect of land to a “sea-sick landsman,” is an event with which few others in this chequered life can be compared. We had been for seven monotonous days, tossed about with fair wind one day and foul the next -- our chief comfort being tea without milk, and a basket of Leggett's musty bread. Is it then to be wondered at, that lying on deck the last morning of our voyage, I should feel a great accession of pleasure, when I saw the sun rise from behind the hills of Malabar, in place of rising from the level ocean? But we were still ten or twelve miles off shore, with little prospect of nearing it; for it had fallen a dead calm -- in vain we whistled to the winds --in vain when a puff of air at times curled the water, was the sail “let fall” no ripple was heard at the prow and a current which was setting from the eastward gradually increased our distance from the land but as I was ever fond of the sea I could not much regret being thus becalmed.

A light breath of wind which stole off in the afternoon in occasional unsteady flaws, carried us within half a mile of the shore, and anchoring directly opposite Tellicherry -- Signalized a boat, in which we were soon seated with the little luggage we had brought with us, and to our great satisfaction, saw the distance between us and the town every moment diminish.

With the appearance of Tellicherry itself we were rather disappointed, Viewed from the most favourable point, nothing is seen but a dead mass of mean looking buildings, and irregular rows of smoking huts, intermingled with the cocoa nut, palmyra, plantain jack, and other trees of the tropical broad leaved tribe, rising above their dingy roofs. And so low do many of these dwellings lie on the water's edge, that a stranger almost fancies a high spring tide would overwhelm them. A very strong tide does sometimes set in, and there is often a heavy swell, but the waves are partially broken before they reach the landing place by a reef of rocks, which extend like a dike in front of the beach, nearly opposite to the Custom House. The entrance into this natural port of security is very narrow, but the water thus sheltered from every wind, is as smooth as glass; and the basin, or harbour, spacious enough to contain a great number of boats. We counted no less than thirty, lying all in a row -- touching the inner ledge of the black rocks, and as still as if a dead calm prevailed beyond them, as still as if a dead calm prevailed beyond them, notwithstanding the heavy swell, which rolled inwards to the very verge of the reef, and along the whole line of coast.

The anchorage for shipping, is upwards of two miles from the shore, which makes it fatiguing for boat's crews -- especially those from a northern climate, to pull so far under the rays of a vertical sun. A harder duty can scarcely devolve on a seaman, than being obliged to row against a heavy swell in taking off cargo, or provisions, to the roadstead.

The boats used along this part of the Malabar Coast, are long, narrow, and flat bottomed; with high sides formed of planks sewed together with koir rope. They are used not only in fishing, but also in carrying considerable cargoes to the ships. Dozens of them are always hovering about sometimes with only a boy to manage them. I have seen a couple of black urchins go out to fish and they worked away in a rough sea, apparently with more ease than a Deal boat's crew could have done. They are not afraid to venture out in the stormiest weather, for although the boat may overset, they say she will never sink. It is very to amusing to watch them in a stiff breeze, they sail so easily, and so beautifully. The boys seated on the stern, ride away over the billows with helm in hand, managing their skiff like a practised rider on d smooth plain, would curb his steed: and after they have spent the day, and not unfrequently the night also, in fishing; they return to the shore, seated in their chair of state high above the water, laden with their spoils, and drying their wet clothes in a tropical sun.

We were also disappointed at the first view of this part of the continent of Southern India. The country in the neighbourhood of Tellicherry lies very low, and as far as the eye can reach, the horizon is bounded by wood. The gloomy waving of the trees, overshadowed by the dark and lowering clouds which announced the speedy approach of the Southwest Monsoon, made the landscape peculiarly dreary, and although we were assured that the phantoms of gloom with which we had peopled these impervious jungles would be dispelled upon a more intimate acquaintance with their recesses.

I never experienced a more delightful reality, than the consciousness of being stretched in a snug camp cot on shore, after having been cramped up for a week or two in a dirty pattamar. At first it is a reality that we hardly believe in; because the heaving and pitching to which we had been for some time accustomed, seems communicated to every surrounding object: the walls totter, the roof bends, and the bed creaks; and it absolutely requires one to be thoroughly awake, in order to have a perfect conviction of the reality, and the deception. As to the children, they all dreamt both long and loud, and we even, fell asleep in the belief that we were rocking about in Neptune's car, and slept soundly, and much longer than we had intended.[3]

Robert Mignan and his family had arrived at the beginning of the hottest part of the year, as the temperature rose during this period before the onset of the monsoon.

"The climate of Tellicherry, during our stay, was excessively enervating, and therefore any thing but agreeable. In the day-time the thermometer ranged from 88 (degrees) to 92 o; and at night frequently from 89o to 93o. On the 25th of April, Fahrenheit's thermometer in the coolest part of the shade at two o’ clock, P.M., indicated 91 o, and in the sun 121 o; giving a difference of 30o. At midnight it was 88 o, giving a difference of only 3 o between the temperature of mid-day and midnight. A thermometer plunged into the sand, indicated a temperature of from 130 o to 135 o. Between half past four, and nine in the evening, the heat was sometimes suffocating. If the morning broke with a clear sky over head, and the sun rose unconcealed by haze; and when also the horizon was broken in a dark tremulous line, a northerly wind was sure to set in about half past eleven o’ clock, and dissipated the bodily and mental exhaustion caused by the hot nights, and sultry mornings, of this low latitude. About sunset, the breeze gradually died away, and was succeeded by a calm which lasted throughout the night. From sunrise till the when the sea breeze commenced, there never was a breath of wind; or, if the surface of the ocean was occasionally ruffled, it was only here and there, by those little tantalizing puffs, which we all know so well by the name of “cats paws".

On a few occasions, the morning broke with dark clouds, and the sun was dimmed by vapours; then a strong south-westerly wind followed during the day, and we were always covered with sand and dust. Heavy rain sometimes accompanied these brisk gales, and a high swell, which rolled in from the sea, and raised so high a surf on the beach, that it cut off all communication between the shore, and the vessels at anchor".[4]

With the final capture of Cannanore in December 1790, and domination by the East India Company, of Calicut by 1793, Tellicherry's usefulness as a port subsided. Mahé was also captured from the French on the 16th of July 1793. Most of the East India Company merchants and officials based in Tellicherry, under Mr. Torin soon moved out to Mahé, and Tellicherry ceased to be a factory.

The town however remained the centre of justice for the area, however the former garrison moved away to the extended fort and cantonment at Cannanore, leaving just a small Lieutenant's guard for the prison in the fort.

Henry Bevan recognised the importance of these courts to Tellicherry, when he arrived in 1833.

"The judges of the circuit-court at Tellicherry generally employ half castes, or Anglo-Indians and Portuguese, in such subordinate offices as do not require a knowledge of Hindoo or Mohammedan law. There is a large half-caste population round Tellicherry, principally descended from the Portuguese settlers, who came out here soon after the discovery of India. A large portion of the fortified factory erected by the first Portuguese colonists still remains [5]. It is surrounded by a high wall, secured by towers, and is now used as a court-house and gaol. Most of the half-castes speak English with great fluency, and all are anxious to have their children instructed in that language. There is a very good English school at Tellicherry supported by voluntary contributions of the officers and by the small stipends paid by the natives the teacher however when I visited it was a Portuguese but he was perfectly competent for his situation. I found also that he was a good mathematician, and the answering of some of his pupils whom I examined would not disgrace an European academy. There were several Hindoo and Mohammedan children at the school, and they joined in the studies and sports of their Christian fellow pupils without ever quarrelling on account of their religious differences."[6]

See http://malabardays.blogspot.com/2007/12/founding-of-tellicherry-schools-in-1817.html

An anonymous writer, whose article appeared in 1854 in the "Home friend, a weekly miscellany of amusement and instruction; By Society for promoting Christian knowledge", described a trip to Tellicherry. This trip appears to have taken place many years before the article was written. It is perhaps the most comprehensive description of life and conditions in the town available.

"Tellicherry Proper, or the town of Tellicherry, is built on a low ground, almost on a level with the sea. The town consists of some two hundred-irregularly built European houses; the bazaars; the market-place; a few so-called shops; an immense prison built on a lofty bastion facing the sea, which prison includes the dens for criminals and the debtor’s gaol comprising also a lunatic asylum; the Zillah Court, and a species of chapel. Besides these, there is a Catholic chapel and a Protestant church, and the burial-grounds of both creeds, situated on a high mound nearly overhanging the sea.[7]



The decaying Protestant Church at Tellicherry, between the Fort and the sea, taken in 2006 by Lindsay Gething, to whom I am indebted for this photo.

Outside of the town itself, and between it and Deramapatam, are a few straggling country-houses, and the court-house of the now no longer existing judges of circuit, who were three in number besides the registrar. Beyond these again, runs a rapid and deep stream, over which a couple of ferry-boats are continually plying; and on the other side of the stream rise the lofty cliffs and high tableland which constitutes that portion of Tellicherry styled by the natives Durhamupatnum, consisting of a few scattered villages, occupied almost exclusively by native fishermen and two immense mansions, more like palaces than private houses and heretofore the residence of two of the stationed at Tellicherry.”[8]

These two houses survive today. One is called "Ayesha Manzil," which was once he home of Mr. Stevens, the Judge. It is owned by a member of the Mousa family, whose ancestor's were the great pepper merchants in Tellicherry in the first half of the 19th Century. It is currently a very comfortable guest house. The current owners believe that it once belonged to Murdoch Brown, and that it was first built in 1862.

It is quite possible that the current building is on the site of an earlier building.

There appears to be some confusion also about who lived in the building, because this cannot have been Murdoch Brown, if it was only built in 1862, as Murdoch Brown had died on the 9th of January 1828 aged 78, so it was probably, in fact owned by his son Francis Carnac Brown, rather than by Murdoch Brown himself. Francis Brown was born on the 10th of November 1792, on Brown's plantation at Randattara, and died eventually on the 23rd of September 1868. [9] In future postings, the stories of both of the Brown's will feature prominently.

The other surviving Judges House is at Pallikunnu. It is in private hands and is not open to the public, but is described elsewhere in this blog.





The Dharmapattanam Ferry.

Most travellers remained in Tellicherry for only a few days before, either their ships moved on, or like Robert Mignan, he travelled inland. This was not always particularly easy to arrange, as the following passage illustrates.

In forming the plan of our journey through the interior, (no easy business, with four young children, and their female attendants,) we were most materially assisted by that intelligent and obliging Parsee, Darashah Cursetjee, who has resided on this part of the Malabar Coast for the last five and thirty years; and who will readily procure palankeen bearers, and baggage coolies, for the trip hence, to any inland station, without expecting, or even consenting to receive any remuneration, for such service. We were entirely guided by his advice; and it may not be unimportant to mention, for the benefit of those persons who contemplate a similar course to ourselves, that Cannanore in preference to Tellicherry, is perhaps the best point of disembarkation, as in addition to the assistance of their friends, they will experience little trouble in securing bullock carriage -- a desideratum, not so easily obtained either at Tellicherry, or Calicut.” [10]


I wish thank Google Books for making the following texts available online. Without this fantastic new service, it is highly unlikely that I would have been aware of more than a fraction of the above material.

[1] From Thirty Years in India: Or. A Soldier's Reminiscences of Native and European in the Presidencies from 1808 to 1838. By Henry Bevan. Published 1839 London. Pages 144 & 145.

[2] A Pattimar, was a singled masted lateen sailed vessel, much like an Arab dhow. They could sail very much closer to the wind than could the squared European ships. They were also more able to deal with the light winds encountered alond the coast.

A particularly fine pair of water colours of Pattimars by Thomas Cussans, and army officer active in Cannanore in the 1820's can be seen in the Collect Britain online collection at http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/personalisation/object.cfm?uid=019WDZ000000484U00020000
and
http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/personalisation/object.cfm?uid=019WDZ000000484U00014000

It is to be hoped that Robert Mignan's vessel was slightly better provided for with sails than the latter vessel.

[3]Notes Extracted From a Private Journal Written During a Tour Through A Part Of Malabar etc. 1834. By Robert Mignan. Lieutenant, Bombay European Regiment. Pages 2 to 18.

[4] Mignan.

[5] Incorrect, the Portuguese had had no need for a fort, because of the proximity to Cannanore. The French in the 1670's are credited with building a mud fort on the site of the existing stone fort, which was actually built by the East India Company betwen 1690 and 1710.

[6] Henry Bevan.

[7]Home friend, a weekly miscellany of amusement and instruction; By Society for promoting Christian knowledge. Published in 1854. Pages 193 onwards. Although this article was only published in 1854, it appears to have been written by someone who was in Tellicherry during the 1830’s. It has proved possible to identify some of the people mentioned in the book.

[8] Home friend.

[9] Information from Madras, Lists of Inscriptions on Tombs or Monuments by Julian James Cotton, published Madras 1905.
See also Strange (Thomas Lumsden) 1808-84. Handwritten account of his life and times in India and Persia. Mss Eur J706 in British Library OIOC Computer Catalogue, Mss Eur D358 Page 131 –133.

[10]Robert Mignan.

Copyright Nick Balmer December 2007.

Arrival in Thalassery, Tellicherry.

Having read so much about Tellicherry in books and in manuscripts found in the British Library, it was with considerable excitement and interest that I finally arrived in the town.

As we had passed over the bridge into Thalassery from the north, I had noticed a tall stand of very old and magnificent trees to my left. I knew from my research that Thomas Baber's house had been in this general area.

In the rapidly failing light of an Indian evening, there would be no time to visit the house that evening.

The view out over the river estuary from our hotel room, to the sea was full of people scurrying home into the dark. Fishing vessels were returning to the port, and numerous bats were leaving the nearby palm trees for their evening feed. I couldn't help wondering what it must have been like for those early East India Company officials, when they first arrived in the settlement.

How very different it must have been to anything they had encountered at home in England.

Shortly after dawn, I was up and out of the hotel making my way towards the hill, with all of the trees. Knowing my families propensity for planting trees, and being aware of trees from Suffolk, to Berkshire and beyond that had been planted at even earlier dates, but which have survived from even earlier dates than 1812, I was increasingly confident that I would find his house.

What I had not however expected to find, was that it was not just his house, I would find, but an entire estate village.

First on my right was a school, and then on my left, a sawmill. The sawmill looked quite modern, but the school had several hallmarks of being an early colonial building, judging from its style. Subsequent research showed this to be the case, as it was built in or shortly before 1817.

The road leading to the entrance to Pallikunnu House

Soon I was climbing up onto a steep little hill, topped with a very large walled garden, filled with mature trees, and surrounded with houses, often modified over time, but having a standard set of designs for the underlying structures, obviously drawn from the various vernacular styles used by the different castes and religions in the area. One in particular was very similar to an old house that Kocha Rama Varma had shown me on our route to Thrissur, that had belonged to his family.

House built in the padinjata style normally adopted by Nairs or farm owners.

A lower caste house.

It appears that Thomas Baber had been trying to create an ideal estate, in the same way that many estate landowners in Britain were doing at this date, but instead of constructing Cottage Ornée, Thomas had chosen to build high quality vernacular housing to suit the needs of his domestic, plantation and sawmill staff.

To the west of the main house there was a line of very large trees, and evidently very old trees. I knew from drawings held in the British Library and available on the Collect Britain website, that there had been very few trees on the hills surrounding Tellicherry by 1800, most probably as a result of the sustained seige of Tellicherry in the 1780's, when the town had held out against Tipu Sultan's forces.

I knew that this hill called Pallikunnu had been one of the five outer bastions against held against Tipu's army, surrounding Tellicherry and keeping his army at bay, and was bare except for a single large palm tree. So it was very likely that these trees had been planted between 1790 and 1817.

The full painting, thought to date from approximately 1790, can be found on the Collect Britain website at http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/personalisation/object.cfm?uid=019WDZ000004355U00000000

On the 20th of August 1817, Colonel James Welsh visited Thomas Baber at this house, which had only recently been completed. Writing in the late 1820's he had recalled.

"Here I found every thing in status quo, excepting Mr. Baber’s residence, which was entirely new, and one of the loveliest spots in India; being erected on a small hill, five or six hundred feet above the level of the country, commanding a view, including the river and island, with both bridges, to the Periah Peak, and so diversified with hill and dale, that the eye never tired in surveying it.

This hill, when I was last in Tellicherry, was as wild as the rest of the hundreds with which this coast is studded; now a comfortable residence has arisen, and two good roads, up and down, had been made with much labour, whilst a young plantation was in embryo to complete the whole. It was about a mile inland, and the sea breeze blew over the tops of myriads of cocoanut trees; which however, obstructed the view of the shipping in the roads; the flag-staff on the citadel alone visible in that direction, though the more distant shore, on either side, was as distinct as the interior. The climate was also delightful, and I think Tellicherry one of the healthiest places in the East."


Following the public road on up the hill as it spiralled around the hill, it was quickly evident that there were more than a dozen, and quite possibly many more of these estate houses.

Eventually, I reached a set of imposing gates, at the bottom of a stone track. Taking my courage in my hands I started to climb the driveway to the house.

Entrance Gates

A veritable arboretum of trees was growing in the large garden surrounding the house.



The very finest and largest of these trees were at the very top.



Finally reaching the summit of the hill, I came into view of the front of the house.

It was definitely the one I was looking for.



Copyright Nick Balmer November 2007

The 40 Foot Road, Day 7.

At Mananthavady we had made enquiries of the people in our hotel to see if they could recognise the location of the following painting supposedly of the Periya Pass by Thomas Cussans.



Click on the picture for a larger view, or visit the following url for an even larger and a zoomable view. http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/personalisation/object.cfm?uid=019WDZ000000484U00017VR0

This powerful watercolour had been drawn by Thomas Cussans,(1796 to 1870) and is one of nineteen by this Madras Artillery Officer preserved in the British Library showing Cannanore [Kannur] and the surrounding area. I had found it on the Library's fantastic Collect Britain website, which can be accessed at http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/ and its strong draughtsmanship had caught my imagination.

Collect Britain has over two thousand five hundred similar paintings and drawings dating from the East India Company period in its collection. One particular section Svadesh Videsh which can be found at http://www.collectbritain.co.uk/collections/svadesh/ is devoted entirely to images of India and Indians images.

The hotel owner and several guests had joined in an animated discussion at breakfast over the print I had shown them, and a consensus had developed on its being down one particular road. It was not however the Periya Pass Road which was the main road towards our destination Thalasserry. I couldn't really understand which road it was however, but Ramesh our by now trusted driver, thought he knew the correct one, and assured us that it was a very beautiful one, and so it turned out to be in ways which we hadn't quite expected.

Leaving Mananthavady by the bridge to the south east we were soon motoring along a country road full of people going about their daily business. As I watched out of the windscreen, a curious thought suddenly struck me. The road was behaving in just the same way as the 18th and 19th century enclosure roads in my native Rutland did as they passed across the countryside. They seemed to be the same width as well, forty feet.

As the road passed through the villages, it curved around the very oldest properties, before plunging off in a straight line directly towards the next bridge or settlement.

The road looked as if it had to have been laid out by a British surveyor, or one working in a 19th Century way.

But how to test this theory?

Calling on Ramesh to stop the car, I jumped out and started to pace across the road from the boundary to the crown. It was exactly 40 foot, just as an enclosure road would have been in England. Next step, to try a side turning to an accommodation road. This should be twenty feet wide between boundaries, and ten feet in carriageway width exactly if my theory was correct.

As always in India, within moments of our stopping a small crowd had formed of puzzled farmers, besides the nearest side turning. Walking up towards them, I could only imagine with what puzzlement they must be viewing my antics, as I paced foot by foot across the road.

Trying "hello", it was obvious that they either had no understanding of English, or they were temporarily struck dumb by my appearance. So sadly leaving them to their puzzlement, I turned and paced out the side turning directly in front of them. It was exactly 20 feet wide.

It fitted exactly.

I do hope that they were not to alarmed by my measuring up their front lane. Did they think me some property developer?

What must it have been like being that English surveyor in the 1820's?



At regular intervals along this road were small farms laid out in exactly the same way that one might to have expected to have seen at Whittlesey Mere or similarly recovered land dating from the 1770 to 1820 period in Britain.



These cottages even looked as if they were designed in a fairly regular manner, and were not unlike Regency farmer's cottages in England, with just an added touch of an Indian style. Yet they still retained a hint of a Regency cottage orné adapted for India's sun and monsoon.



As we drove further along the road it began to become steeper and and to climb, and eventually a range of mountains began to come into view towards the south west. Was this this range going to hold the peak shown in the picture? One certainly had the distinctive twin peaked notch in its crest.




By now the trees in the plantations were becoming higher with tall canopies of palm oil trees, often festooned with pepper vines or under planted with coffee bushes.



A pepper vine running up a tree

Tantilisingly the mountain peaks kept coming into sight, before once again disappearing again behind yet another ridge or belt of trees.



Eventually as we crossed a small river, the mountain came back into view, very clearly and immediately to our south.



Moments later we entered a village, [11 degs 44' 42.28" N 75 degs 55' 30.31" E] and crossed a bridge over a stream. Here the view opened out to the south over the stream clearly opening a vista to the peak. It had to be, and was clearly the mountain in the painting.



Soon another group of villagers had formed around us, but this time ably helped by Ramesh translating we were soon getting lots of advice and help from the men.

We were clearly looking at the mountain in the middle of the picture, which I learnt was called Banasura. [11 dgs 42' 02.86"N 75 degs 51' 35.87"E]

What was a bit puzzling was that some of the villagers were however also pointing south east and south back down the road and where suggesting that the village in the picture was another village to the south, whilst one man was arguing just as strongly, and very insistently that it was not here at all, but further along the road.

Something in the man's demeanour made me think that perhaps he was right. So thanking the others we climbed back into the car, with our new found guide. Soon we had driven perhaps three miles, and I was just beginning to doubt our guides knowledge, when he waved to the left up a side road to a steep little conical hill with a large building on its summit.

As we drove up the hill the road narrowed to a steep bendy track, which was not at all unlike the bends at the right hand end of the picture by Cussans in alignment.

The building at the summit turned out to be St. Joseph's Benedictine Monastery at the village of Makkiyad. It is a modern building probably only twenty or thirty years old, but occupying a very commanding site.

As we set off back down the hill I walked in front of the car, and looking up towards the twin peaked mountain, I suddenly realised that the image nearly matched. I just needed to move back a bit. As I moved backwards, my feet suddenly struck a large smooth topped boulder, and I realised that I had literally stumbled over the artists seat. He had used the boulder as a perch as he drew the scene.



My son sat on the boulder that Thomas Cussans used to draw part of the image. The larger stone behind has only been bulldozed up in the last year or so



The scene looking south from Cussans boulder



The modern view, but with the road widened out and surfaced

What Cussans had done was to merge a series of sketches together. The first sketch was probably made from a hill to the north of the road about one mile east of the first village in which we stopped. It looks due south, into the large valley shown.



He had then stopped further along near the river crossing, probably also on a hill directly north of the actual crossing, and had drawn Banasura, over the top of the intervening trees around the village, before moving on to the west to stop at Makkiyad.

Since my return research suggests that the site of St. Joseph's Monastery may have been one of the fortified posts that East India Company troops had garrisoned in the Wayanad during the struggle with Pyche Rajah, and it may be the track leading to this camp that is shown in Cussans drawing. Perhaps Cussans had stayed in the fort on the summit of this rise.



One last puzzle remained, where is the cliff in the picture?

It doesn't appear to be visible from any of the view points.



I believe it was an invention by Thomas Cussans to fill in a gap between the separate drawings on the page of his sketch book, in order to provide a unified design for the finished watercolour.

From Mayyid we descended the Pass of the Eleven Bends, as Ramesh described it to us. This is not actually the Periya Pass, which is some miles to the north, but a subsidary pass up the ghats. It is a much more pleasant route, than the main Periya Pass road or the Kozhikode to Kalpetta road, because these carry heavy trucks on their way inland. Both roads are hopelessly inadequate for the sheer volume of commerce that daily needs to cross the Ghats, and are therefore not for the faint hearted.

Our approximate route to Thalasserry is shown on the map below.



Click on the map for a larger version.

On to Manantoddy

Leaving Sultan Bathory, we were soon retracing our steps west towards Kalpetta, before turning off north west towards Manantoddy.

We were hoping to try to find the forest guest house which we understood to be beyond the town.

The drive proved to be along some very beautiful valleys lined with paddy fields, which were in the course of being harvested.




The farmers seemed genuinely pleased and somewhat surprised to see us, and waved friendly at us as we passed by.




Passing through Mananthavadi we headed out towards Thirunelly. Stopping several times to ask the way, we passed a Forest Headquarters before heading up into an increasingly dense and beautiful forest.

This high forest must be the nearest thing to the forest that Thomas must have experienced, and which he so obviously enjoyed. I would have loved to have had the chance to explore it, but my driver was horrified at the thought of going into the trees. It was full of snakes and very dangerous animals in his opinion. Quite possibly he is right.

Eventually as the track grew narrower and narrower we eventually reached a remote village, where monkeys appeared to out number people, and beyond it a forest camp.



On enquiring of a group of workers we were told that the camp was closed and the forest bungalow was not available. I couldn't help wondering, if this was not selective translation, as I think our driver didn't really fancy a night out in the wilds. Reluctantly turning around and returning to Manantoddy, our journey was rewarded however, because we spotted a tribal village complete with the same types of high watch towns built up against trees, that Thomas Baber describes in his 1833 paper "An Account of the Slave Population in the Western Peninsula of India, especially on the coast of Malabar... As contained in the Replies of T. H. Baber, Esq. to the Questions referred to him by the Right Honourable, the Commissioners for the Affairs of India.” on the conditions of the natives on the Malabar Coast.



Later in 1830 Thomas Baber gave evidence to a committee of the House of Lords in which he described the terrible state of these slaves. Answering questions put by the members of the committee he stated: -

What is the Character of Slavery in Malabar?

They are absolute Property, as much as the Cattle upon a Man's Estate; they are bought and sold in the same Way. A Slave generally sells from Five Rupees to about Twenty, or about Ten Shillings to Forty Shillings; when leased out the usual Patom or Rent is Four Fanams, which is about Two Shillings a Year. I could give a List of the several Castes comprising the whole of the Slave Population. There are upwards of 100,000 of them in Malabar alone, and they are in that abject degraded State that it is Matter of Astonishment that no Legislative Provisions have been enacted to improve their Condition. The very Appearance of them, particularly those in the Eastern and Southeast Parts, bespeaks their Wretchedness. Small in Stature, spare Arms and Legs, with large Stomachs, in fact more like Baboons than Men. Perhaps there is no Person who has had the Opportunity I have had of seeing and knowing these unhappy Creatures.

How are they dressed?

In the most retired Parts of the Country, with nothing but a Plaintain Leaf tied round their Waists; in the more open and cultivated Parts, a Waist Cloth, perhaps about Three Feet in Length and about a Foot broad, secured by a Knot in Front.

In what Kind of Labour are they more generally employed?

Agriculture; never as Domestic Servants. They are not allowed to come within a certain Distance of several of the Hindoo Tribes, or their Houses. Mopillas employ them occasionally in Domestic Labour.

But the Hindoos never?

Never.

Are they all Natives of the Soil, or are any imported?

There are none imported now, I believe. There were some imported from Travancore and Cochin, or rather kidnapped; many of them free-born Children, stolen during the Night-time. Many of them I discovered on the Plantation of a Native-born British Subject.

Was he convicted of having kidnapped those Slaves?

No, though he ought to have been. His Agents, that is, Persons in his Employ, were brought to Trial, and I think discharged in consequence of some Scruples on the Part of the Mohamedan Law Officer.

Did it appear that he was cognizant of their having been kidnapped?

The Resident of Travancore, Colonel Munro, sent me a Letter, which this same British Subject had written to him, soliciting his (the Resident's) Protection of his (the Writer's) Agent, who had been taken up in Travancore for this very Act, and requesting he would obtain his Release on whatever Terms might appear to him reasonable. This Letter, and all the Correspondence it gave rise to, I can produce, if it is their Lordships Pleasure.

What became of the Children?

I sent the whole of them back to their Parents, for which I received, through the British Resident, the Thanks of the Government of Travancore.

Can you speak as to the Character of Slavery in any other Part of the District?

In Canara, Malabar, Coorg, Wynând, Cochin and Travancore, it is of the same Description, and perhaps the whole Slave Population amounts to 400,000 Souls.

Is their Condition, as far as you have had Occasion to observe, much the same throughout all that Range of Country?

I think in Canara the Landholders treat their Slaves better than they do in Malabar, from the Circumstance of the Landholders being better Farmers and in better Circumstances.

In fact the Effect of the very heavy Demands of the Government from the Landholders falls on the Slaves?

To a certain Extent, certainly; as far, that is, as impoverishing their Proprietors.

That causes them to exact more severe Labour?

It is not on account of the Labour they exact, but that they do not subsist them as they ought to do. Often may they be seen in the wildest Part of the Forests and Mountains, digging for wild Yams for their very Subsistence.

They are quite a different Race from the other Inhabitants of the Country?

Quite different.

Is there not some Idea that they were the Aborigines of the Country?

They are supposed to have been the Aborigines of the Country. Their History, which, like all the other Indian Stories, is wrapped up in Fable, is as follows; Srb Parasu Rama was incarnated to destroy the Rajahs (Kheterees) then oppressing the Earth. After Twenty-one different Battles, he slew them all. To expiate which, it being a great Sin to slay Heroes, called Virahatirju dosham, he went to Gokernum, and having there performed Sacrifices, and prostrated himself to Varuna, he made the Ocean retire, and thus created 160 Kadums of Land. (Footnote *) He then went and brought the Arya Brahmins of the Sixty-four Grams, and to induce them to remain he went in Search of the wild People who inhabited the Forests and Mountains, collected them, and presented them to the Brahmins as Adiars, or Slaves, since which Period they have been considered as Jelm Property equally with the Soil itself.



These towers had been manned by slaves in the 1820's when Thomas travelled the area. The slaves had been tied to the land and were bought and sold together with the land.



It is hard to imagine the events he described taking place in such a beautiful area. These farms must look very much as they had done in his day. The buildings still match his descriptions.