More Col. Reid stories

As Sriram V. says, The Story of Fort St. George by Col. D.M. Reid (MM, April 16th) is an extraordinary book, not only because of its wonderful contents but the way he tells a story. For instance, there are a couple of conversational passages that reflect the nature of the Company and its men.

Clive and the miniature.

One such dialogue is between a Thomas King and a David Rogers, both sailors (this story specially appealed to me having been a sailor myself). Though the book was written a couple of years before Indian Independence, Reid captures the mood of the early days of the Company. The year of the incident is 1653! The sailors are led by a group of three Indians, and wade through the river, heading towards Egmore, to fetch and escort back some cart-loads of rice.

King says to Rogers: “Will you go to Meliapore (Mylapore) tonight?”

“What is that to you?” asks Rogers.

“The fair Maria Fonesca will be waiting for you.”

“And what if she is?” grunts Rogers more irritably.

“Nothing, but I have a fancy that William Smith may find his way there tonight.”

(It has been often said that fair ladies of San Thomé were the cause of the English arriving at this sandy beach called Madras and that included the founder, Francis Day! Similarly Europeans once used to say that it was nice to earn in the Far East and spend it all in Goa on pleasure!)

Reid continues that the argument, gossip and confidences that follow are no different to what they have been in the three hundred years since! Concluding the story, he narrates, “The two men like as not, died in the country, and their descendants, named Rogers and Smith, are here today.”

Another story that appealed to me is about Robert Clive. As told by Reid, Clive, a writer, wanted a commission in the army, and had to wait. Reid does not miss a chance to take a dig at governmental delays: “Soldiers of today need not think that the necessary delay of a few weeks, in dealing with an application, is a hardship. In those days delays were figured in years. Indeed, things were much worse then, when the junior was the junior and was kept in his place with very little consideration for his feelings or desires.”

Clive’s attempt to enter the army seemed heavy with failure. The heat of Madras was oppressive. Or the long rains of the monsoon season kept him to the house where he was ill-tempered to his friends and unsociable. The mood was definitely depressing. He wanted to take his life. When he put the pistol to his head and pressed the trigger, it misfired!

Nearby lived another writer, Edmund Maskelyne, who did not bother much about life, took things as they came, was obedient and generally happy. One day, Clive went to meet him and saw a miniature portrait of a girl that attracted his attention. Some time later he dropped in again and wanted to see the miniature. Edmund laughed and said, “And you, Robert, added to her list? Odds bod, you will have to call out both Cornelius and Fordyce in turn, for they swear their hearts are hers!”

Reid goes on to say that Clive was a determined man and, as taught in the army, ‘maintenance of object’ was clear in his mind.

The miniature remained a guiding light during the violent and intense activities of the next few years. After years of turbulence, Clive was back in Madras and on February 18, 1753 he married Margaret Maskelyne in St. Mary’s Church.

A small book with big information!

K.R.A. Narasiah

Mis(s)pronunciation

In ‘Madras’s first Hindu woman graduate’ (MM, April 1st) it is stated, “Then she joined the Presentation Convent in Black Town...”. Would this be the St. Columban’s School housed in that lovely red building on Maclean Street, close to Broadway? (Editor’s Note: Yes, it is.)

I joined there in the “recognised” section as a six- year-old in 1952. The Head Nun was a foreigner called, I think, Mother Fedalious. She was a large, florid, hearty and kind woman, much like a female version of Friar Tuck.

All the teachers were ‘Missiammas’ (Anglo-Indian women). They struggled to pronounce Indian names.

C.G. Prasad
9, C.S. Mudali Street
Kondithope
Chennai 600 079

Museum space

Perhaps we need a very spacious museum to house our discarded heritages, including the hoary Madras Museum established in 1851. Dr. Balfour, the first Officer-in-charge, must be turning in his grave.

Another thought: Presidencies have gone. Presidency College has to follow.

N. Dharmeshwaran
Plot 456
II Link Road
Sadashiva Nagar
Chennai 600 0 91

Not drongoes

As seen in the photograph of the ‘bird bunting’ and as observed by reader T.K. Srinivasa Chari (MM, April 1st), the birds do not appear to be drongoes.

Drongoes have glossy, jet black plumage with long, deep  forked tail (Rettaivaal kuruvi).

These birds must be house swifts which can be confirmed by the smoky black colour, white throat, white rump, short square tail and long narrow pointed wings. They are found  even in the heart of congested bazaars. (Ref: Common Birds by Salim Ali & Laeeq Futehally.)

As a long-time birdwatcher, I would say that, most of the time, a mere photograph of a bird is not enough to identify it. Its size, behaviour, habitat, flight, call, colour of eyes, and appearance of beak are other useful guides.

N. Dorai Bhaskaran
A 64, Murugesa Naiker Manison
Triplicane
Chennai 600 005