Niels Studsgaard Fuglsang, born in the small Danish village of Holeby, pursued studies in philology, theology, and medicine in Copenhagen. Following in his father’s (Hermann Jørgensen Fuglsang) footsteps he became a vicar. At the age of 33, Fuglsang expressed a desire to spend time in Tranquebar, then a Danish colony in present-day Tamil Nadu. He applied for the position of pastor-cum-astronomer, previously held by Henning Munch Engelhart, who had died while surveying the Nicobar Islands in 1791. Fuglsang left Denmark aboard the ship Disco in October 1792 and arrived in Tranquebar on September 15, 1793.

Although no records indicate that Fuglsang conducted astronomical measurements during his time in Tranquebar, he officiated at ceremonies in the Zion Church, including baptisms, confirmations, and weddings. He quickly mastered reading, writing, and speaking Tamil. A keen observer of local life, Fuglsang spent nearly a decade in Tranquebar before leaving on March 28, 1801.

When he returned to Denmark, Fuglsang brought back over 150 artifacts, which his family later sold to the King of Denmark. These included approximately 70 hybrid Indo-European style paintings now housed in the National Museum of Denmark and over 40 Tamil and Grantha palm-leaf manuscripts available for study at the Royal Library in Copenhagen. Among his possessions were also 400 exquisite paintings of South Indian plants, mainly medicinal species, compiled into three volumes. These botanical drawings, forgotten for decades, were either donated or sold to the Museum of Natural History in Copenhagen.

Historian Simon Rastén, working with Martha Ann Fleming in Copenhagen, rediscovered these drawings in autumn 2023. Labels affixed to the back of the paintings contain the names of most plants in Tamil alongside brief Danish comments in Fuglsang’s handwriting. However, the paintings lack details about the artist or the dates of their creation.

This rediscovery brings us closer to unravelling a historical enigma. Were these paintings merely a collection, or did they reflect a deeper collaboration between Fuglsang and local Tamil artists? The vibrancy of these illustrations contrasts with the lack of clarity about their origins, inviting us into a world of mystery and speculation.

Botanical-art historian Henry J. Noltie (Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh) has described various botanical illustrations by artists like Rungia, Govindoo, Lakshman Singh, and Vishnu Persaud. Telugu-speaking moochy artists who migrated to Tanjore also contributed to this tradition, transitioning from miniatures to real-life depictions. Savithri Preetha Nair praises the skills of the Hindu moochy artist, Coopan Sithar, and the Christian artists Kiruba Samuthiram and Ayya Pulley, while William Dalrymple’s Forgotten Masters highlights Yellapah of Vellore. These works, produced between 1805 and 1860, are recognized for their precision. Fuglsang’s collection likely dates to between 1790 and 1800. Though less precise than later artworks, they remain remarkable achievements.

The origins of these artistic developments around Tanjore can be traced to the Halle missionaries in Tranquebar. Johan Gerhard Koenig, a pupil of Linnaeus, joined the Halle Mission in Tranquebar in 1768, while Christopher Samuel John arrived in 1770 and displayed a keen interest in natural sciences, excelling in astronomy, botany, and zoology. Other notable missionaries included Johann Peter Rottler, who arrived in 1776, and Johann Gottfried Klein, born in Tranquebar and later educated in Copenhagen, who returned in 1791, coinciding with Fuglsang’s arrival.

These missionaries established a botanical garden at Ozhugamangalam outside Tranquebar and may have taught local artists to paint flora. Nair notes that John lamented the poor condition of his Principles Instructing the Art of Drawing due to frequent use by orphans in Tranquebar under his tutelage. This suggests an active effort to train local artists. In his oft-cited article on The Missionary Botanists of Tranquebar, Harry Stansfield emphasises how Benjamin Heyne in Samarlakota, as well as Rottler and Klein in Tranquebar, were the key figures interested in the flora of the region.

Fuglsang’s life in Tranquebar becomes even more intriguing when viewed alongside clues from his diary, which he maintained from 14 September 1800 until 24 December 1802. The diary includes vivid descriptions of plants and trees in and around Tranquebar. Yet, it remains tantalizingly silent on the botanical paintings. Did Fuglsang commission these works with a collector’s foresight? Were they intended as gifts for Danish patrons? Or were they a serendipitous acquisition during his stay?

Two paintings from the collection serve as examples. In one set, plants feature ribbons tied around them – a technique likely inspired by European/Chinese practices rather than Indian traditions. This stylistic detail suggests that multiple painters were involved. Fuglsang likely knew these artists, either directly or through an intermediary, and they may have lived near the Mission Garden, enabling consistent and timely work. Completing 400 paintings would have taken years, pointing to a dedicated, long-term effort. The lack of vernacular inscriptions on the paintings implies that the artist(s) may not have been literate in Tamil.

Figure 1: A painting of a pomegranate plant with fruit. Fuglsang had written on the back.

Figure 2: A painting of a turmeric plant. At the top, Fuglsang had written and in Danish: ’bruges til at gøre Busei med og til Tegn og til Karri og mange Ting’ (= Turmeric used for puja and curry and other things).

Correspondence from the missionaries to Halle in 1790 before Fuglsang’s arrival in Tranquebar highlights the region’s artistic talent. They noted that two adult Portuguese boys were requested by an English engineer-captain to work as draftsmen, with the captain funding their drawing lessons. The missionaries also remarked on the extraordinary skill of local Telugus and Moochies, particularly in painting exquisite miniatures. In Tanjore, one artist stood out for his ability to replicate masterpieces with such precision that even experts struggled to discern the copies from the originals. This artist, known for his mastery in depicting plants, animals, and insects with exceptional detail after proper instruction, was employed by the king of Tanjore. Could the two Portuguese boys, whose names we do not know, be behind the paintings?

A review of the 1790 census of Tranquebar and its surrounding villages reveals two other potential candidates for the artist or artists behind the botanical paintings. (The census from Tranquebar can be viewed on the homepage of the National Archives at www.sa.dk.) One is “Velajudam” , a resident of “Kottu Palleiam Kudeanna Teru” near the Mission Garden, who identified his profession as an artist or illustrator (Tegner). (The names are cited as found in the census.) Another intriguing figure is “Letschumanan”, described as a “Moochien” – a term that may denote a painter or craftsman. (According to Hobson-Jobson, “The name and caste are also found in S. India, Telug. muchche. These, too, are workers in leather, but also are employed in painting, gilding, and upholsterer’s work.”) Many served in the court of Raja Serfoji of Tanjore as artists. Fuglsang had indicated on many of the drawings that the plants are from the Mission Garden that leads us to believe that the artist/s were from the region. Adding to this narrative is Fuglsang’s Tamil teacher, Tella Muthu, who might correspond to “Tille Muthu Pulle” from the census. Residing near Velayudam, Tille Muthu owned a garden on “Avatarna Setti Teru” and may have connected Fuglsang with local painters.

The botanical paintings from Tranquebar are far more than mere illustrations; they are fragments of a forgotten narrative, imbued with cultural intersections and personal ambition. Fuglsang’s meticulous collection not only showcases the natural beauty of South India but also reflects the complex relationships between Danish colonists and Tamil artists. Despite the mysteries surrounding their origins, these works endure as captivating records of South India’s botanical richness and artistic heritage.

I acknowledge helpful suggestions from Simon Rastén, Henry Noltie, Savithri Preetha Nair, and Ananthanarayanan Raman.