Angengo Fort, off the Arabian Sea at Travancore
Photo : Flickr / Thejas Panarkandy
Angengo Fort, off the Arabian Sea at Travancore Photo : Flickr / Thejas Panarkandy

A massacre at the seaside

The life story of Katharine Gerrard Cooke (1695-1745) evokes the struggles faced by the early English pioneers in India. (Part 1)
Angengo Fort, off the Arabian Sea at Travancore<br />Photo : Flickr / Thejas Panarkandy
Angengo Fort, off the Arabian Sea at Travancore
Photo : Flickr / Thejas Panarkandy
Summer was at its peak, the river water hot, but the lethargic noon silence was broken by a cacophony of birds, wings flapping, crows and vultures furiously circling the objects floating in the estuary. The people inside the fort were in the punkah rooms, sheltering from the extreme heat, and did not notice the avian turbulence at the river.
Towards evening, a few topasses – native servants of mixed race – came straggling back to Angengo Fort, off the Arabian Sea at Travancore. They were all heavily wounded, their bodies smeared with mud and blood, and broke the news of the massacre at the Queen's Palace at Attingal, where they had travelled the previous evening.
Their grand procession had left the fort in the afternoon on 14 April, 1721. It was the auspicious day of Vishu, the Hindu New Year, on which the Queen's subjects paid their respects and gave her their annual gifts. She had given the Honourable East India Company (EIC) the right to build a trading post at Angengo (which they called a Factory), in her kingdom. The Angengo settlement was built around 30 years earlier, during the reign of 'Queen Ashure', as the Rani Aswathi Thirunal Umayamma was called in English records. Her country was rich in pepper, and its calico was of excellent quality, but the relationship between natives and English traders had never been smooth. There had been constant disputes and encounters, and a decade earlier, the settlement was attacked by natives who accused the English of lodging pirates. Such skirmishes were routine in most early English settlements along Indian coastlines.
The Attingal Kingdom was a beehive of political intrigue. It was traditionally ruled by matriarchs, although real power was wielded by the Ettuveetil Pillamar – Nair chieftains from eight prominent houses – and their vassals, who controlled revenue collection and enforced caste hierarchy. These families were fighting among themselves for supremacy. After Umayamma Rani's demise, the chieftain Kudamon Pillai had installed his choice as the queen. This angered his rival, the Vanjimattam Pillai. The factors – the EIC's official traders at the English fort – played a part in these disputes and intrigues; the Company officials neglected to pay their dues to the queen, leaving the mandatory tributes to her in arrears for several years.
The four-mile march from the fort to the Queen's Palace was led by chief factor William Gyfford, who had been chief of Angengo Fort for three years. As a young factor at Bombay, he worked as supercargo on English ships to Mocha, in the Persian Gulf. Mocha was famous for coffee, and the Company servants made money through private trade. Sometimes they lost everything to pirates in the Arabian Sea.
Gyfford came to Angengo with his wife Katharine in late 1717, eager to amass "pepper and pagodas" through private trade. The Malabar Coast was famous for its spices, which earned huge fortunes for Company servants. Robert Adams, senior factor at Tellicherry, operated many private trading ships, and was said to have earned a fortune of more than £100,000. Angengo was the place to earn enough for a comfortable retirement at home, and both Gyfford and his wife were eager to build their fortune.
Doing so was not easy, however. At Angengo, English trade was controlled by Simon Cowse – a private trader with many years' experience – and John Kyffin – a wily, avaricious man – who held the post of chief factor. Kyffin, who had earlier expressed a wish to retire, instead decided to stay put when Gyfford arrived. He soon began to spread rumours about the new arrival, writing letters to his superiors in Bombay and Madras against Gyfford, even alleging that Gyfford used his beautiful wife to achieve his ends.
A desirable girl
Gyfford was Katharine's third husband, even though she was only 23. She had come to India in 1709, aged no more than 14, accompanied by her parents, two sisters and brother. The family set sail for Calcutta from England aboard the Loyall Bliss in early March 1709, and the voyage lasted seven months. The winds were against them, and by the time they left the Cape of Good Hope, the southwest monsoon winds had stopped blowing, making progress very slow. Many sailors went down with scurvy, and there was an acute shortage of supplies, including water. Captain Hudson decided to weigh anchor at Karwar – on the west coast of India, south of Goa – in search of supplies.
At Karwar, the passengers were hosted by John Harvey, chief of the English factory there. A "deformed man" and "in years", he was much excited about the arrival of the guests, especially the young ladies. He even forgot to report the anchoring of the ship at the port, drawing a sharp rebuke from the Bombay Council over this neglect of duty. Harvey proposed marriage to Katharine, and her father – Captain Gerrard Cooke, a gunner in the Company's Bengal forces – was favourable to the idea. He had heard that Harvey was a man of fabulous wealth, and the suitor promised to make special provisions for the young girl. Katharine was dutiful, so she accepted. When Loyall Bliss left Karwaron after two weeks, on 22 October 1709, she had one less passenger on board: Katharine.

Mariner Isaac Pyke wrote home in 1709 that so many in Bombay lived "in a miserable needs & beggarly condition", and "not halfe able to maintain themselves but live in Hospitality together"

Harvey dreamed of returning to England and setting up a home in the country with his wife. Already in his 50s, he applied for retirement, but had accounts to settle with his employers. As usual with most EIC servants, his private trade had become entangled with the Company's affairs. Harvey had rented a small trading ship, the Salamander, to the Company at Karwar, and a treasure chest he owned at Tellicherry had been entrusted with the Company for payment in Bombay. To sort out the accounts, Harvey and Katharine travelled from Karwar to Bombay in April 1711. There she met two young Company servants, Thomas Chown and William Gyfford.
Harvey and Katharine returned to Karwar, but in early 1712, Harvey collapsed and died. His accounts had not been settled, and Katharine – aged just 16 – found herself alone in the remote port town with little help managing her affairs. The Company seized all properties of its late servant, and the Chief Factor at Karwar, Miles Fleetwood, was ordered to pay Harvey's widow only one third of the proceeds until accounts were settled.
This came as a big shock for Katharine. The custodian reported to the Company that the sale of estates raised £13,141, but no payment was made to Katharine. They found that John Harvey had left a will dated 8th April 1708, just before his marriage to Katharine, and asserted she had no legal claims on his estate.
Thomas Chown, the second man in Katharine's life, entered at this point. As the supercargo of the Godolphin, a ship that traded at ports in the Persian Gulf, he was sent to Karwar as a factor. After a few weeks, Katharine married him. The two decided to travel to Bombay to stake Katharine's claims on Harvey's estates. They set out on 3 November 1712, on the Anne, a small trading ship carrying pepper and wax. The Konkan Coast was pirate infested, and the Anne was escorted by the armed yacht of Governor William Aislabie and a 14-gun frigate, Defiance. En route, they were attacked by the forces of Kanhoji Angre, a Maratha admiral, who held sway over the coast from Goa to Bombay from his fort in the impregnable mountains of Udayagiri. An adventurer of humble birth, he had built a powerful fleet and immense wealth, and his actions had been of great concern to the Company for almost half a century.
As Angre's forces attacked, the Defiance slipped away, and the Governor's yacht bore the brunt of the defence. Its top mast was shot off, forcing it to surrender. The Anne made an attempt to escape to Karwar, but it was stopped by two of Angre's ships. Anne was heavily battered. Thomas Chown was hit by a cannonball, which tore off one of his arms, and he died with Katharine by his side. Thus came to an end her second marriage in less than a year, and by now she was pregnant.
The passengers and crew of the Anne were taken prisoner, and Katharine and a few others were taken to Colaba. There, she spent three months in a dungeon, until the Company's council in Bombay came to an agreement with Angre over the payment of a ransom. In February 1713, Lieutenant Mackintosh arrived at Colaba with Rs 30,000, and the prisoners were released. Clement Downing, a chronicler of the time, wrote that the Lieutenant was "obliged to wrap his clothes about her [Katharine], to cover her nakedness". She returned to Bombay on 22 February 1713, and delivered a boy, who she named Thomas Chown.
No solace
In the early 18th century, Bombay's English society was small and closely knit. Everyone knew about Katherine's story and how she was left without support after Harvey's death. The Company's Bombay Council offered her Rs 1000 from her former husband's estates, which they had seized and withheld. They also offered her an allowance as a widow of a slain servant. In October, the Council paid her Rs 7492 from her late husband's estates, though they had earlier refused to make any payment from a will John Harvey was said to have left.
Katharine learnt a difficult lesson in dealing with a company that called itself the Honourable East India Company. Its servants were paid poorly, so were allowed to trade privately, as long as such activity did not interfere with the Company's interests. Servants were posted to distant places, communication was difficult, and fraud, malpractice and swindling were rampant. The Company never trusted its servants, who in turn held grievances against their masters. In 1698, an anonymous memorandum was circulated in London for the consideration of members of Parliament, which described the "Great Oppressions and Injuries" that the managers of the EIC had inflicted on the "lives, liberties and estates" of their fellow subjects. The private correspondence of the servants was also full of such complaints.
Salaries were poor and living and working conditions were hard on the servants. Mid-level servants like Thomas Chown – who had been a factor – earned only £20 per year, less than the annual earnings of a labourer in London at the time. The governors and members of the council, and influential senior servants, made huge fortunes and lived in splendour, but the less fortunate lived in poor, unhealthy conditions. Mariner Isaac Pyke wrote home in 1709 that so many in Bombay lived "in a miserable needs & beggarly condition", and "not halfe able to maintain themselves but live in Hospitality together". He wrote that five or six people "lye in one Room & if any has a Room to himselfe tis not easye to guess how mean & sorry a hole it is."
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