Pepper, Profit, and Power: The grizzly tale of Anjengo on the Malabar Coast, 1721
Lets go back in time to the fabled shores of the Malabar Coast and the lush, serene landscape of Kerala, India, where a tale of ambition, betrayal, and raw power unfolds. It's 1721, and the bright, tranquil setting of ‘Anjengo’ is about to be turned inside out and lashed, by a brutal popular revolt against the mighty East India Company.
Imagine swaying palms, fragrant breezes, and the promise of fortune hanging in the air. Tall masted ships bob on the horizon, buildings of stone twist and turn heavenward and a dark, toned people speak in a fluid, rolling tongue.
As the scene unfolds, prepare to be drawn into a harrowing tableau of massacre. 140 Englishmen lay slain, their bodies twisted in agony, their blood staining the soil crimson.
But the story doesn't end there. It's only the beginning of a protracted siege that will push the limits of 'John Company' endurance to the brink. Amidst the chaos and carnage, alliances will be tested, loyalties will be questioned, and the fate of an entire region will hang in the balance.
So, lets be swept away as we plunge headlong into a tumultuous clash that is the Battle of Anchuthengu in 1721. But be warned, dear listeners, this tale knows no happy endings or neat resolutions for the 'good guys.' No, all we'll find here are the jagged material facts of realpolitik washed in the soft waves of imagination, and the hope that these bloody events inspire.
Lets dive into the heart of Kerala's coastal embrace, where the vibrant hues of an ancient culture dance amongst the palm fringes, in a salutation to the sun, wholly unprepared for silver tongued eclipse that heralds the arrival of an ‘honourable Company’
But before we get to the uprising at Anjengo, let's set the stage with a glimpse into the bustling era of trade and exploration at the time. Pepper, revered as the "king of spices," reigns supreme as one of the most coveted commodities in the European market. Countries like Portugal, the Netherlands, and England eagerly seek this prized spice, not only for its culinary allure but also for its preservative properties and esteemed status as a luxury item. Pepper transcends mere seasoning—it embodies wealth, prestige, and power.
In this vibrant era of commerce, the Dutch East India Company and other European trading enterprises play pivotal roles in the spice trade, including the lucrative commerce of pepper from India. The demand for this prized spice drives fierce competition among rival powers, sparking a race to control key trading outposts and secure valuable supply routes. Amidst this backdrop of economic rivalry and strategic manoeuvring, the background is set for our story.
With spice in your nose, now imagine yourself whisked to the sun-kissed shores of Kerala, South India, where the vibrant haven of Varkala beckons with its Ayurveda clinics, bustling cafes, and tranquil yoga shalas, a kaleidoscope of colour against the azure horizon. Now, hop aboard a rickshaw and traverse the winding coastal road for 10k’s, passing quaint fishermen's shanties nestled amidst swaying palms, the rhythmic melody of the Arabian Sea serenading your journey.
Suddenly, as you approach a towering crimson-and-ivory lighthouse, your rickshaw comes to a grinding halt, the driver nodding in silent guidance. Emerging from the lush foliage, Anchuthengu Fort looms before you like an oceanic titan, its weathered walls standing sentinel against the verdant backdrop, whispering tales of unknown fates. Envision this grand fortress, carved from the very earth itself, its weathered facade bearing witness to the ebb and flow of time and tide. Its angular silhouette, sharpened for the geometry of warfare, a robust testament to the experience of its builders. And encircling it, as perimeter, defence, are iron rails adorned with the fluttering of white mundu and saris drying in the scorching sun, a poignant reminder of daily life woven into the fabric of time
Recognizing Anjengo’s strategic value, the British East India Company, in 1693, secured permission from the formidable Rani of Attingal to build a fort and monopolize the pepper trade—a bold move that would shape the destiny of the region for decades to come. This achievement, won by the smooth talking John Brabourne, the lead factor of the mission, was crowned by the whispers of romance across the region, had he seduced the Queen? She was certainly taken by him…
But beneath the surface of lavish gift giving, diplomacy and economic ambition, simmered a cauldron of tension. This alliance sparked vehement protests among the farming communities, predominantly composed of Nairs and Ezhavas, as well as Muslim traders. Moreover, certain feudal lords, notably the Pillais, grew increasingly uneasy with the heavy-handed tactics employed by the British East India Company. Despite the queen's nominal authority, these influential ministers wielded considerable power, their discontent and personal rivalry factionalising the region.
As one historian eloquently observed, "The company sought to almost annihilate agriculture in the region, leading to a drastic loss of livelihood for the common man. When the East India Company entered the region and started trade, they bought pepper from the natives for a much lesser price than the Dutch, often going to as low as Rs 5 for a quintal. They would then sell the same in Europe for Rs 500." The revelation of this exploitative trade practice stoked the flames of resentment among the farmers, igniting a fervent backlash against the encroaching British presence.
Nieuhof's Audience with ye Queen of Koylang [Quilon] 1703
The alliances forged with local rulers, particularly the Rani of Attingal, proved instrumental for the British East India Company's ambitions. Umayamma, the formidable Rani, not only ruled Attingal but also presided over a confederation of semi-independent states, in a matrilineal system, with each state, a jewel in Travancore's crown. Umayamma a shrewd, strong ruler saw the British as easy way to stem Dutch influence and further strengthen her power base. They were, in her view, far more polite, and she had, after all, been fully schmoozed by Brabourne…
Ultimately, these alliances were not just about trade—they were about securing monopolies and controlling the flow of goods. By monopolizing key commodities like pepper, the Company wielded unprecedented economic power, dictating market prices and reshaping regional trade dynamics. This economic dominance allowed the Company to negotiate from a position of strength with local rulers, further solidifying its political influence.
However, tensions brewed beneath the facade of cooperation. Dutch opposition to English fortification efforts and resistance from local feudal lords strained these nascent alliances. Yet, amidst the backdrop of suspicion and intrigue, strategic support from influential figures at the Rani’s court, played a pivotal role in overcoming these obstacles. The complex dynamics within the Attingal principality added layers of complexity to colonial dealings.
The construction of the Anjengo fort marked a pivotal moment in the British East India Company's history on the Malabar Coast. Positioned strategically between the Vamanapuram River and the Arabian Sea, the fort served as a symbol of British power and intent in the region. Despite challenges from rival powers and local rulers, the fort was completed in 1694—a testament to the Company's determination and resilience. In the time it had taken to construct, the company men had withstood blockades and military confrontation. However, with their superior firepower, spies at court, and coastal resupplies, they dutifully kept to purpose. This structure at Anjenjo was but from 70000 stones, was equipped with 60 canons and could maintain up to 400 men and women within its walls. It was a powerful jigsaw piece in the puzzle of East India Company power projection and subsequent dominance of the coast. So much so, on its completion, the Dutch closed their operations in nearby Quilon, Cochin and Cannanore.
The Rani died 1698, leaving her kingdom to her less adept daughter, deeply regretting her decision to let John Company in. For the East India, it was a pivotal moment - now at the turn of the century, it had its lucrative bridgehead, powerful allies at court and a weak Queen. The flintlock of commerce was now ready to press its advantage by any means necessary.
Anjenjo Fort, John Henry Grose 1757
As the profits soared and fortunes were made, company men, characterized by their rugged determination and exploitative mindset, saw the region as little more than a source of profit to be plundered. Their interactions with the local communities were marked by a blatant disregard for cultural sensitivities, worsened by a reliance on untrustworthy Portuguese interpreters and a limited understanding of the intricacies of local culture.
What had began successfully, between 1688-1693, as cultural exchanges aimed at fostering trade relations and increasing wealth, soon devolved, into a source of conflict and animosity. The clash between colonial ambitions and indigenous customs highlighted the complexities of cultural influence and power dynamics in pre-modern era. As tensions continued to simmer and tempers flared, the stage was set for our story of massacre and upheaval in the tumultuous history of Anjengo on serene Malabar Coast.
With corruption festering like a malignant tumor within the ranks of the East India Company (EIC) officials, the fertile soil was sewn for a shocking series of events that would shake the very foundations of the colonial establishment. By 1718, the pervasive culture of greed and deceit had reached unprecedented heights, with factors and senior officials shamelessly profiteering from personal trade while turning a blind eye to the Company's interests. The coastal outposts had become breeding grounds for intrigue and treachery, where ambitious individuals vied for power and influence, willing to stoop to any depths to ascend the ladder of hierarchy and get rich.
Enter William Gyfford, a figure whose ascent to the helm of the Anjengo fort marked a black spot in its histroy. Gyfford, who with only a few years experience in company business, was a favourite of the governor in Bombay, and was dispatched to his first lucrative command to clear up corruption and relieve the rapacious John Kyffin who had not paid the Rani her customary tribute, creating unnecessary tension. However, his tenure was characterised by a maelstrom of mismanagement, corruption, and ill-conceived alliances that would ultimately seal a tragic downfall.
From the moment Gyfford assumed command, it was clear that his leadership would be anything but steady. Faced with the daunting task of managing internal dissent and external threats, Gyfford's response was marked by a series of grievous errors and lapses in judgment. Instead of safeguarding the Company's interests and ensuring the stability of the settlement, Gyfford's actions were driven by a reckless pursuit of personal gain at any cost. He would get rich on company cash. Full stop.
Anjeno Fort, Etching by James Forbes 1813
Fast forward to 1720, and Gyfford is making bank. He and his Portuguese interpreter Ingatio Mahleiro are thick as thieves. The once-simmering discontent among the local populace has now erupted into a blazing inferno of resentment and defiance. Fuelled by every kind of underhanded trade practice, including the use of fake weights, strong arm pressure tactics and strategic land grabs, the people of Attingal find themselves pushed to the banks of rebellion. Gyfford’s refusal to pay the yearly tribute to the Queen is seen as a direct challenge to sovereign authority. Also acquisition of land that held revered shrines and temples has deepened suspicions of nefarious motives, especially when coupled with Gyfford's egregious mistreatment of the temple's Brahmin priest—he had, for fun, forced him to shave an untouchable’s beard, an act that in local custom would alienate him from his community, an act so heinous that it led to the tragic suicides of both the priest and his wife.
This perceived desecration of sacred spaces and the general disdain shown towards native religious practices, both Muslim and Hindu, struck at the heart of the deeply held beliefs of the local population. Gyfford and his officers, emboldened by their perceived superiority, openly ridiculed native customs and traditions, displaying a flagrant disregard for the cultural heritage of the land they were in. They would often verbally abuse traders and pelt locals with rotten eggs for entertainment. Catherine Gyfford, his wife, in particular, exhibited a shocking lack of decorum, hurling dirty water at muslim merchants who came to the fort to trade—an act dripping with disdain and contempt. Further exacerbated when Gyfford snapped their swords over their heads when they drew them in outrage. This added insult to injury.
As the storm clouds gathered and the winds of retribution began to howl, Gyfford continued to run his ship into the ground, wholly unaware that the golden hour was set for a bloody confrontation that would see his transgressions punished.
Malabar Man and Woman, Nieuhof 1682
Benjan Saints, Nieuhof 1682
Massacre, Revolt and Resistance
This event was the culmination of 3 decades in the making. Brutal, harrowing and swift, Gyfford's fate and that of 140 of his men, serves as a cautionary tale, a stark reminder of the perils of hubris, corruption, and unchecked ambition in the landscape of colonial India. Accounts differ on precisely the events, however the following aggregates the varying accounts into a singular narrative.
In April, 1721, Gyfford being ordered by his superiors to make nice and appease the Rani, Pillai’s and people, decided to personally deliver 7 years worth of back dated tribute to the Rani at the Vishu festival held at Attingal place. (Bombay had received reports of misdoings, from his own men keen to take the job). Although warned by long term supporter Vanjimuttom Pillai that this was not inadvisable given the climate, Gyfford set out at the head of the large, glorious coloumn accompanied by flags, drummers and a ‘country tune’. Arriving at the palace Gyfford was greeted by throngs of people, cheering and celebrating the festivities. He assumed they were amiable, despite the warnings, and was lulled into a sense of conviviality.
He delivered his gifts of velvet, gold coins and other prized items with great fanfare to the Rani. Ordering his men to fire a volley into the air to conclude the business. As night fell, he was invited to stay with his men, he accepted and withdrew into the palace court yard. The 140 troops were broken into smaller groups and dispersed to quarters and the weapons were collected. It was only then that he realised something may be amiss and quickly dispatched a message to the small garrison remaining at the fort, famously saying ‘Take care and don’t frighten the women; we are in no great danger’.
At that moment, with the precision of a well-honed blade, the surprise attack was launched on Gyfford and his men, catching them off guard and unleashing a tempest of fury upon the invaders.
The British soldiers were no match for the agility and ferocity of their attackers. With lightning speed and deadly accuracy, the people struck, their blows raining down upon the hapless Englishmen like thunderbolts. In the chaos that ensued, the air was thick with the clang of steel and the anguished cries of the fallen. Gyfford and his men, reeling from the sudden onslaught, found themselves overwhelmed by the relentless assault of their native adversaries.
The result was a massacre of unparalleled magnitude, as Gyfford and the entire British contingent were swept away by the fury of the onslaught. Accounts paint a grim picture of the aftermath—bodies strewn across the blood-soaked courtyard, their lifeless forms twisted and contorted in the throes of death. Gyfford himself met a grisly fate: his tongue was reportedly severed, nailed to his chest, and then he was nailed to a piece of wood and cast into the murky depths of the Vamanapuram River, a grim testament to his crimes and the brutality of the encounter. His interpreter Ignacio Malhiero met an equally disturbing fate, he was tortured and slowly disembowelled.
The precise location of the attack remains shrouded in mystery, with some accounts suggesting it unfolded within the confines of the palace walls, while others claim it occurred during the return voyage to Anchuthengu. Yet, regardless of the specifics, one fact remains indisputable: the British forces suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the people, their hopes of dominance dashed amidst the carnage of that fateful night. Only 20 men escaped, all were severely wounded.
Imagine the chaos that swept through Anjengo on April 12th. Gyfford's urgent message arrived midday, setting off a flurry of anxiety. Later that evening, wounded soldiers staggered in, confirming everyone's worst fears. They bore the scars of battle, some with a dozen or more wounds inflicted by arrows and blades.
Gyfford had taken the cream of the crop with him, leaving behind a ragtag bunch led by Robert Sewell. Among them was Gunner Samuel Ince, a standout amidst the ineffectual leadership. He wasted no time in securing the safety of the English women, swiftly arranging their passage on a nearby vessel bound for Madras.
Mrs. Gyfford, now a seasoned survivor - William was her 3rd husband - made sure to secure whatever valuables she could lay her hands on before departing. She took the books and the cash. She even tried to whisk away some of the men, but Sewell intervened, determined to maintain some semblance of order. Meanwhile, the fort's remaining defenders braced themselves for the inevitable onslaught.
The fort itself, had stout walls, but no roof. Flimsy timber and palm leaf coverings offered little protection against the elements, or the hostile forces massing at its gates with their arrows. Gunner Samuel Ince, a stalwart amidst the chaos, marshaled what resources remained, rallying the beleaguered defenders for the trials ahead.
But even Ince's indomitable spirit could only do so much against the relentless onslaught. The absence of crucial personnel – a surgeon, skilled craftsmen – left the settlement vulnerable, its inhabitants left to fend for themselves amidst the encroaching peril. Furthermore, many local families sought sanctuary from the violence, within the fort. The Attingal people, emboldened by Gyfford's departure, had descended upon the Anjengo settlement with vengeance, leaving a trail of devastation in their wake.
As days turned into weeks, the fort's defenders found themselves locked in a desperate struggle for survival. The tropical sun beat down mercilessly, sapping their strength, while torrential rains turned the grounds into a quagmire of mud and despair. With each passing day, provisions dwindled, and morale sank lower, infighting, theft and drunkeness among the rag tag besieged were rife. Relief finally arrived in late April with the arrival of English ships bearing reinforcements and provisions. Concurrently, neighboring rulers extended offers of sanctuary to the besieged civilians, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
Despite facing sporadic attacks, the garrison held strong under Ince’s tactical knowledge, he repelled assaults with bravery and cunning. Yet, the strain took its toll, with morale waning. Ince ultimately planned to explode the forts magazine in a final act of heroism.
As weeks turned into months, the fort endured, bolstered by occasional reinforcements and diplomatic gestures. However, the internal strife threatened to undermine the defence at every turn, the drunken misconduct of Robert Sewell and his band of defenders a constant problem
Some six months later, in October, the arrival of proper reinforcements under the stronger leadership of Midford, brought a semblance of stability to Anjengo.
Aftermath, enquiry and resolution
The aftermath of the siege left a trail of chaos and mistrust. The repercussions of Gyfford's downfall and the revolt reverberated throughout the region, exposing the Company's vulnerability to internal strife and external pressures.
Much of the Company's treasure went unaccounted for in the aftermath of the siege, exacerbating the financial woes that plagued the settlement. Mrs. Gyfford's disappearance with the books further complicated matters, leaving a void in the record-keeping essential for financial transparency and accountability.
Amidst the turmoil, Midford, tasked with restoring order, embarked on a series of brutal raids into the surrounding countryside to assert the Company's authority. These aggressive actions, though aimed at quelling dissent and maintaining control, only fueled further resentment among the local population, deepening the rift between the Company and the native inhabitants.
However, Midford's reign proved to be no different from his predecessors'. Despite his efforts to restore stability, Midford succumbed to the same temptations of personal enrichment and exploitation that plagued Gyfford's tenure. He monopolized the pepper trade for his own private gain, diverting company resources and making unauthorized advances from the Company's treasury. No change there. Alexander Orme, appointed as chief of the factory following Midford's recall, was tasked with uncovering the extent of the damage wrought by his predecessors. Orme's investigation revealed staggering discrepancies in Gyfford's estate, with significant sums of Company funds unaccounted for and allegations of fraudulent activities.
In September 1722, Orme brokered a treaty with the Rani of Attingal, seeking to mend relations and secure the Company's interests in the region. The treaty outlined provisions for the punishment of those involved in the attack on Gyfford, the protection of Christians living within the Company's jurisdiction, and the reimbursement of expenses incurred during the siege. Additionally, the treaty granted the Company further exclusive rights to the pepper trade and authorised the construction of more factories within the Rani's dominions.
However, the Directors of the East India Company received news of the treaty with mixed feelings, expressing concerns about the practicality and efficacy of its provisions. They questioned the feasibility of enforcing the treaty's terms and expressed skepticism about the Company's ability to benefit from the concessions granted by the Rani. Moreover, they raised doubts about the security guarantees provided by the Rani's brother, the Rajah of Chinganatta, highlighting the inherent risks associated with the Company's operations in the region.
At length in 1729, Marthanda Varma came to power, his ascent heralding a new era of governance in the lands of Travancore. Varma, a figure of shrewd calculation and unyielding ambition, wasted no time in consolidating his authority and neutralizing potential threats to his rule. Recognizing the Pillais as formidable adversaries, Varma strategically allied himself with the British, leveraging their might to suppress their influence and solidify his dominance over the region. In a bold and decisive move, and with Company blessing, he annexed Attingal into the burgeoning Travancore state, reshaping the political landscape and establishing himself as the undisputed ruler of the realm.
The Attingal revolt of 1721, had far-reaching implications for trade relations between India and the British East India. The blockade imposed by local population sent shockwaves through the veins of colonial commerce, disrupting the flow of goods and prompting a reassessment of exploitative trade practices. It was a wake-up call for the East India Company, a stark reminder that the fruits of empire came at a cost—one that could no longer be ignored. Directors expressed doubts at the enforceability of Orme’s treaty with the Rani, that ended the affair at Anjengo, they also had reservations at their ability to hold factors to account for their misdeeds. Large sums were missing from Anjengo, and Cathrine Gyfford never produced the missing accounts.
Yet, despite its profound significance, the Attingal revolt often finds itself relegated to the peripheries of official records, a footnote in the grand narrative of colonial history. This selective amnesia speaks volumes about the deliberate shaping of historical narratives, where acts of resistance are often overlooked or conveniently obscured.
The sidelining of rebellions like the Attingal revolt serves a dual purpose for the powers that be. By downplaying acts of resistance, colonial authorities seek to assuage the fears of potential recruits, painting a rosy picture of life under British rule. But more insidiously, it serves to perpetuate the myth of invincibility—a narrative designed to quell dissent and maintain the illusion of imperial dominance and obscure the backroom deals between the company and potentates.
As we bid adieu to this chapter on Kerala’s sun-soaked shores, we reflect on its meaning for us. It's a fleeting moment in history, a flickering candle amidst the vast expanse of time, shedding a small yet significant light on key events in India's long journey to independence. It serves as a precursive spark to the drama of Plassey, some 36 years later, where the British emerged victorious through trademark cunning and disciplined, brutal volley fire. But that is a story for another time.
Sources
The narrative of Anjengo is drawn from the accounts of two esteemed historians of their time: Colonel John Biddulph and Professor T. P. Sankaran Kutty Nair.
Colonel John Biddulph, a British soldier, author, and naturalist, served in the government of British India during the latter half of the 19th century. His extensive travels and experiences in India provided him with a unique perspective on the events that unfolded in the region, including those at Anjengo. Through his writings, Biddulph offers invaluable insights into the political, social, and cultural dynamics of the time.
Professor T. P. Sankaran Kutty Nair, a renowned historian and academic, dedicated his life to the study and preservation of Kerala's rich cultural heritage. His meticulous research and scholarly contributions shed light on pivotal moments in Kerala's history, including the tragic events at Anjengo. Nair's deep understanding of the socio-political landscape of Kerala brings depth and nuance to the narrative, enriching our understanding of the complexities involved.
Together, the works of Colonel John Biddulph and Professor T. P. Sankaran Kutty Nair provide a comprehensive and multifaceted perspective on the tragedy of Anjengo from both sides of the coin…
