Madras miscellany

Back to old haunts again

EVERY YEAR or two, I find some excuse to get to Colombo, where I spent the first half of my life, and a couple of weeks ago, I found yet another reason to visit old haunts again. This time, it was to discuss a book project which may well need the help of readers of this column anon. Meanwhile, a few vignettes.

Madras' international airport, still under renovation and extension, is looking much better and more spacious inside than it has for years. And everything seemed to work a little bit more efficiently. Perhaps it was the fact that my flight timings was not during the most congested hours, but it was a pleasure to move quickly through immigration queues and pick up my luggage faster than ever before. Leaving me fuming as I waited for a wife who dawdled in picking me up, so used she had become to Madras Airport's snail's pace.

Air Lanka's planes continue to look better and its service swifter than ours, though I missed the smiles of old. The poker- faced stewards and stewardesses appeared more intent on doing a job than building bridges, except for one beauty on the trip back whose elegant bearing and dazzling smile made up for it all and foretold a beauty queen's crown.

In Colombo, a friend who had had much to do with the activities organised around the Gopalan Trophy series revival last September, presented me with the special memento, the Colombo District Cricket Association had created for its match with the Tamil Nadu Cricket Association team (see picture) and bemoaned the fate of the match and the one-day series, both washed out by the last heavy rains Colombo had had. Midst talking about the water shortage and consequent power shortage (the island depends on hydro) Sri Lanka is facing, he hoped things would be better in Madras when they arrived here for this year's series. Which makes me wonder whether the TNCA remembers it is committed to hosting the Colombo team this year in the revived series. When does it plan to do that? I hope some dates will be discussed when the TNCA president visits Colombo during the India-Sri Lanka series - and that the dates will not be during the monsoon. Could we please take the Gopalan Trophy series seriously?

The Sri Lankan capital seems to live on its stomach, to judge by the number of restaurants it has. And the variety they offer is more than in any other city in the sub-continent. But in a city which has some of the cleanest and most elegant restaurants, you will find anywhere, why is it those with Madras connections, be they Udipi, Vegetarian, Andhra or Kerala, seem the tackiest, the dirtiest and offer the most indifferent service, with many a visitor warning you of the consequences of their food?

It was on a much more make-you-feel-good note that I left. Arriving at a queueless bank counter at the Colombo International Airport to exchange my Sri Lankan currency, I found the young man manning it busy counting a hefty bundle of notes. Looking up with a smile, he asked, "Are you in a hurry, Sir? Do you have the time to wait till I finish this, Sir?" and when I said I had, he got back to his task. But a couple of minutes later he stopped and said, "How can I ask a person old enough to be my father to wait for me? Please give me the money, Sir." Glad he hadn't said "father's father", I told him I had all the time in the world for my flight, but he insisted "I can't keep an elder waiting. Please let me help you." And after the transaction was completed, he smiled a farewell "Have a good flight and keep coming back."

I wonder how many bankmen in India would behave in this heartwarming fashion. I also wonder when this private Sri Lankan bank comes to Madras, as it plans to do, whether its staff will replicate this young man's courtesy and pleasantness.

The knock in the dead of night

THE PAST fortnight has been one of excitement, some unbelievable boorishness and the loutish behaviour of officials and politicians of all hues who appeared intent on aping the worst lumpen elements. As one who has long been obsessed with the proud heritage of Madras and found it reflected in the splendid record of its officials and politicians of the past, I can only feel shame and sorrow over the face we have exhibited to the world these past few weeks. Even if the implications of events such as those are not the agenda of this column, the previous lines are the least it needed to record in a world where you can't always play the three monkeys.

There may have been other times in more recent years that Madras has heard the occasional knock in the middle of the night, but the one that caused as much excitement could well have been the first such occasion those connected with Fort St. George heard it. That was on a September night in 1665.

'A Winter's Tale', as I've titled my narration elsewhere, had as its leads Governor Sir Edward Winter, a rough and ready "terror", and the "sober and God-fearing" George Foxcroft whom the East India Company sent out to supersede Winter and investigate his extravagances.

Trouble began with a slanging match at the Common Table in the Fort. Winter then sought to impeach Foxcroft and asked the corps du guard to arrest him. When they refused, Winter and "his Gang of Rogues', including the Fort's Chaplain, armed themselves and burst into Foxcroft's chamber before dawn one morning. But all that transpired was a hot exchange of words before Winter stormed out. Convinced that Winter planned a mutiny, Foxcroft ordered his arrest. Lt. Chuseman, the Captain of the Guard, did so "after long demurr", but within 48 hours the impecunious soldier was eating out of the wily Winter's hand. Chuseman's wife played her part in this change of heart after Winter had given her "fyne guifts and large promises.... other cyvilities and good turnes more than ordinary". The stage was set for coup a couple of days later.

While Winter and his now freed gang waited patiently in a friend's room in the Fort on the night of September 16, 1665, the Guard, led by Chuseman, stormed up the stairs of Fort House - now the core of the Secretariat - and burst into Foxcroft's quarters with arms drawn. Who fired the first shot is not clear, but there is charge and counter-charge without let about the melee. The casualty list, however, is undisputed: One Councillor, a friend of Foxcroft's, dead, Foxcroft, his son and another Councillor who was at that midnight conference wounded. Put under arrest, Foxcroft and three others were lodged "in several rooms apart" and, as Foxcroft later said, Winter "became possessed of the Fort by rebellion, blood and murder".

It was to be August, 1668, before a Royal Commission arrived in Madras, deposed Winter, released Foxcroft and installed him as Governor. But all that happened only after Winter had driven a hard bargain, yielding HIS fort only after ensuring the safety of his person and property and obtaining permission to continue to live and trade in Madras. It was four years later that he wound up his affairs and left Madras; Foxcroft followed a few days later. Had a pattern been set for Madras?

What's in a couple of names?

IN SEVERAL of the reports of the recent excitement, I found it stated that the CB-CID offices were in Admiralty House. For a few years now, from around the time this splendid building in Government Estate was partially renovated, it has been referred to by this name in the Press and I've been trying to find out how it came by this christening. To me it has always been Government House, the home of successive Governors of Madras from the time of Thomas Saunders in 1752 till Independence when the Governor moved to Raj Bhavan, which till then had been the weekend gubernatorial retreat.

Purchased by the East India Company from Mrs. Antonia de Madeiros in 1753, in what became known as Government Estate, Mount Road, Government House was considerably expanded in the last years of the 18th Century by Lord Edward Clive, who also built adjoining it the Banqueting Hall (now Rajaji Hall) for formal occasions and entertainment.

Whenever people in Madras say, "Clive lived here" or "Clive owned this property", they are referring to this Clive, the rather mundane Clive the Second, though they think they are talking about his father, the famed Robert, Clive the first.

In a curious coincidence, Robert Clive as young married man lived in a house in the Fort that came to be called Admiralty House in May, 1758. This house, owned by successive Armenian families from around 1700, was originally known as "The Great House in Charles Street". Robert Clive in 1752 rented it from one of the leading Armenian merchants of the time, Shawmier Sultan, who was no longer permitted to live in the Fort. The Company bought the house in 1755 and the Courts of Admiralty, established to try pirates and interlopers (unlicensed traders) functioned there till the 1760s, when it became the Government's guest house. Another nice touch to this story is that still Banqueting Hall was built, Edward Clive used Admiralty House, once his father's home, for his official functions and entertainment. Admiralty House, once occupied by the Accountant-General, is now the offices of the Archaeological Survey of India, Southern Circle.

The only other Admiralty House in Madras was in San Thome, a large house that was the residence of the Admiral of the East Indian Fleet in the 19th Century. It later became the property of the Maharaja of Vizianagaram, then the Admiralty Hotel and is now residential flats.

Certainly the house in which the CB-CID is - and which after its partial restoration the Police are proud of - is NOT Admiralty House; it was the Madeiros House that became Government House and remains it in name, with no reason for a change.

S. MUTHIAH

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