On the same day that the captured ship was brought into Bombay, two other captures entered the harbour. The Directors had sent out from England three galleys, the _Bombay_, the _Bengal_, and the _Fort St. George_, manned with sailors from the Thames. As they were proceeding up the coast they found themselves dogged for two days by two strange grabs showing no colours. Resolved to put an end to it, on the third day, on the 1st November, off Cape Ramus, they shortened sail and called on the strangers to show their colours. They proved to be Portuguese, and the English hails were answered by threats and shouts of defiance. The _Bengal_ then fired a shot across the bows of the leading grab, which was answered by a broadside, killing the second mate and two seamen. The _Bombay_ closed in, while the _Fort St. George_ turned its attention to the second grab. In half an hour both of the Portuguese vessels struck their colours, and the galleys continued their course for Bombay with their two prizes, each carrying twenty guns. Such was the difference made by having British seamen, instead of the miserable crews that had hitherto manned the Company’s ships.
It was well for the Bombay Council that Matthews had been absent while this was going on. For two months and a half he had remained at anchor in the Hooghly. Early in December he reached Bombay, and at once recommenced his quarrels with the Council and his captains. Cockburn, of the _Salisbury_, was placed under arrest, presumably for the assistance he had given to the Council. After a time he was transferred to the _Exeter_, and ordered to proceed to England.
In coming up the coast Matthews had touched at Goa, and informed the Viceroy of his disapproval of the Company’s actions, and that his squadron would soon be leaving the Indian seas. But the Viceroy had had enough fighting. The capture of his grabs had brought him to reason. He laid all the blame for recent hostilities on the General of the North, and a peaceful accommodation was come to with the Council, Matthews being disregarded.
In spite of Matthews’ failure to destroy the Madagascar pirates, the presence of his squadron in Indian waters impelled them to seek safety in the West Indies, and henceforward they ceased to be dangerous to the trade-ships of India. The Madagascar settlements lingered on till they died a natural death. Angria, too, had been tamed by the slaying of his commodore and the capture of his ships. For years the sea-borne trade of Bombay had not been so little subject to molestation as it was for the next three or four years.
Matthews had sent home two of his ships, remaining, himself, to do another year’s trading, during which he lost no opportunity of worrying and insulting the Company’s officers. Everybody at variance with the Council found an advocate in him. A Parsee broker, named Bomanjee, was under arrest for fraud; Matthews demanded his surrender. The Council placed Bomanjee in close confinement in the fort, to prevent his being carried off. Matthews promised Bomanjee’s sons he would take one of them to England, and undertook to make the Directors see things in a proper light. Men charged with abominable crimes received countenance from him. He told the Council that they were only traders, and had no power to punish anybody. The Crown alone had power to punish. He (Matthews) represented the Crown, and was answerable only to the King of England. One may picture to one’s self the satisfaction with which, at the end of the year, the Council learned that Matthews was really going.
In December, 1723, he set sail for England. During the two years he had been in the Indian seas he had accomplished nothing he ought to have done, and done almost everything he ought not to have done. He had been sent out to suppress the pirates and to protect the Company’s interests. He had not captured a single pirate ship or rooted out a single pirate haunt. Claiming, as a King’s officer, to be exempt from the provisions of the Company’s charter, he had indulged in private trade, and had even had dealings with the pirates. He had flouted the Company’s authority wherever it existed, and had encouraged others to resist it. Every person who had a dispute with the Company received protection from him. He told the Goa authorities that the Company’s vessels were only traders, and therefore not entitled to the salutes they had always received. He had refused to give up the Company’s sailors whom he encouraged to desert to his ship. He forbade the Bombay traders to fly British colours, but allowed his own trading friends to do so. He had gone trading to Bengal and Mocha, where there were no pirates; two months and a half he had spent in the Hooghly; three months and a half he had spent at Madras and St. David’s for trade purposes; and, when the quarrel between the Bombay authorities and the Portuguese was going on, he gave out that he would send the Goa Viceroy a petticoat, as an old woman, if he did not take every one of the Company’s ships. He had quarrelled with all his captains, and one of them, Sir Robert Johnson, owed his death to him. At Surat he had found a discharged servant of the Company, one Mr. Wyche, on whose departure the Governor had laid an embargo till his accounts were cleared. Matthews took him and his eleven chests of treasure on board his ship, in defiance of the Governor’s orders, and put him ashore at Calicut, whence he escaped to French territory. From Surat also he carried to England the broker’s son, Rustumjee Nowrojee, to worry the Directors. He carried off Mrs. Gyfford, and brought her to England in his ship. His last act on the coast was to call at Anjengo, in order to obtain property she claimed there: but it is probable that he also secured a cargo of pepper.
It is small wonder that, on his arrival in England, in July, 1724, the wrath of the Directors was kindled against him, and an account of his misbehaviour was forwarded to the Secretary of State. The naval authorities called on the Directors to produce their witnesses for the charge of trading with the pirates. The difficulty of doing so was obvious, as the witnesses were all under Matthews’ command; so the charge was dropped, and the Directors sued him in the Court of Exchequer for infringing their charter by private trading.
Meanwhile the naval authorities had their own account to settle with Matthews; Captain Maine, of the _Shoreham_, having made various charges against him. In the last week of December, 1724, he was brought to a court-martial on board the _Sandwich_ in the Medway, and the finding of the court was thus recorded:–
“The Court, having read the complaints of the Directors of the E.I. Co. of several irregularities said to be committed by Captain Thomas Matthews while Commander-in-Chief of a squadron of his Majesty’s ships sent to the East Indies, a Publication being made three several times, if any Person or Persons were attending on behalf of the said Directors, in order to prove the several matters therein contained, and not any appearing, the Court proceeded on the complaints exhibited by Captain Covil Maine, and having strictly examined into the several particulars and matters therein contained and heard divers witnesses upon oath, they are unanimously of opinion, that the said Captain Matthews hath in all respects complied with his Instructions, except that of receiving Merchandize on board before the late Act of Parliament, Instituted an Act for the more effectual suppression of Piracy, came to hand, but not afterwards; and it appearing to the Court, that he had sent men irregularly to Merchant Ships, and finding he falls under the 33rd Article of War, they have Resolved he be Mulcted four Months’ pay, and that the same be applied for the benefit of the Chest of Chatham, and he is hereby mulcted accordingly.”
Six weeks later, the Directors obtained a decree against him in the Court of Exchequer, for L13,676 17_s_. 6_d_., which, according to Act of Parliament, was doubled as a penalty.
In 1742, Matthews again found favour with an English Ministry. He was appointed Minister at Turin and Commander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean. In February, 1744, he encountered a combined French and Spanish fleet off Toulon. His behaviour to his subordinates had excited their ill-will to such an extent that his second in command and many of the captains refused to follow him. The allied fleet escaped with the loss of one ship only. Both admirals and five captains were cashiered, and that is the last we hear of Matthews. The remembrance of his behaviour long rankled in the minds of the Directors, and twenty years elapsed before they could again bring themselves to apply for the despatch of a royal squadron to the Indian seas.[1]
[1] The squadron under Barnet, which was sent out in 1744, on the declaration of war with France.
CHAPTER X
_TWENTY-SIX YEARS OF CONFLICT_
The case of Mr. Curgenven–Death of Conajee Angria–Quarrels of his sons–Portuguese intervention–Sumbhajee Angria–Political changes–Disaster to _Bombay_ and _Bengal_ galleys–The _Ockham_ beats off Angria’s fleet–The Coolees–Loss of the _Derby_–Mahrattas expel Portuguese from Salsette–Captain Inchbird–Mannajee Angria gives trouble–Dutch squadron repulsed from Gheriah–Gallant action of the _Harrington_–Sumbhajee attacks Colaba–English assist Mannajee–Loss of the _Antelope_–Death of Sumbhajee Angria–Toolajee Angria–Capture of the _Anson_–Toolajee takes the _Restoration_–Power of Toolajee–Lisle’s squadron–Building of the _Protector_ and _Guardian_.
As an instance of the miseries to which men were exposed by Angria’s piracies, may be mentioned the case of Mr. Curgenven, a private merchant of Madras. Being bound on a trading voyage to China, he sailed from Surat in August, 1720, in the _Charlotte_. Before he could get clear of the coast, he was captured by Angria’s fleet and carried into Gheriah. There he remained for nearly ten years, during the whole of which time he was made to wear fetters and work as a slave. In spite of the letters he was able to send to Bombay, nothing appears to have been done to procure his liberty. At last, on payment of a ransom, he was set free, and joined his wife in England. But the fetters he had worn so long had injured one of his legs, and amputation was necessary. As he was recovering from the operation, an artery burst, and he died on the spot.
With Boone’s departure from India the attacks on the Angrian strongholds came to an end. They were henceforth regarded as impregnable, and Boone’s successors contented themselves with checking the Angrian power at sea.
In June, 1729, Conajee Angria died. He left two legitimate sons, Sakhajee and Sumbhajee; three illegitimate sons, Toolajee, Mannajee, and Yessajee. Sakhajee established himself at Colaba, while Sumbhajee Angria remained at Severndroog, to carry on the predatory policy of their father. In March, 1734, Sakhajee died, and Mannajee and Yessajee were sent to hold Colaba for Sumbhajee. Before long, Mannajee quarrelled with Sumbhajee and Yessajee, and fled to Chaul. The Portuguese espoused his quarrel, and furnished him with a force against Colaba, which was taken; Mannajee gallantly leading the assault, sword in hand. He at once imprisoned Yessajee, and put out his eyes. As soon as the Portuguese force was withdrawn, Sumbhajee attacked Colaba. Mannajee invoked the aid of the Peishwa, who compelled Sumbhajee to raise the siege, and received the Angrian forts of Koolta and Rajmachee in return, while Mannajee proclaimed his allegiance to the Peishwa, and henceforth was secure under his protection. The Portuguese, incensed against Mannajee, who had broken his promises to cede them certain districts in return for their assistance in capturing Colaba, joined hands with Sumbhajee Angria against him. This brought down upon them the hostility of the Mahratta court, who, after two years’ severe fighting, expelled them from Salsette and all their possessions in the neighbourhood of Bombay, while the English looked on at the contest waged at their doors with indifference.
In order to strengthen themselves against the Dutch, the Portuguese had ceded Bombay to the English, and then, by their bad faith in retaining Salsette and Thana, they had opened a sore that never was healed. By espousing the quarrel of Mannajee they had earned the enmity of Sumbhajee; and by joining in Sumbhajee’s quarrel against Mannajee they had brought down on themselves the formidable power of the Peishwa. Before long, Sumbhajee turned against them again, and they were left without a single ally to struggle as they could. Their intervention in Angrian quarrels was the final cause of the downfall of Portuguese power on the West coast.
The old political landmarks were fast disappearing. Everywhere the Mogul power was crumbling to pieces, and new principalities were being formed. The Peishwa had shaken off his allegiance to Satara, and his armies were making his authority felt all over Hindostan and the Deccan; while Mahratta rule was being established in Guzerat by the Gaicowar. The Dutch and French had ceased to make progress; the Portuguese power was on the wane; the Seedee was losing territory under the attacks of Mannajee and the Peishwa, while the Angrian power was divided. Meanwhile, the Company’s position on the West coast was steadily improving. European pirates had ceased to haunt the Indian seas; Mannajee Angria found it necessary to maintain good relations with the English, though occasional acts of hostility showed that he was not to be trusted; while the Peishwa, whose aims were directed inland, had no quarrel with them, and concluded a treaty with Bombay. Trade was flourishing, though the piracies of Sumbhajee Angria, in spite of his feud with Mannajee, caused losses from time to time. The English ships, better manned and better found, no longer contented themselves with repelling attacks, but boldly cruised in search of Sumbhajee’s vessels, capturing them or driving them to seek refuge in their fortified harbours.
To relate in detail all the encounters that took place would be tedious; but some of them may be mentioned, in order to give an idea of the warfare that went on for thirty years after Boone’s relinquishment of office.
In October, 1730, intelligence having been received of Angrian gallivats cruising north of Bombay, some Bombay gallivats were sent out, and after a smart action captured three of them, each carrying five guns. A month later, the _Bombay_ and _Bengal_ galleys were attacked off Colaba by four grabs and fifteen gallivats. There was a calm at the time: the hostile grabs were towed under the galleys’ stern and opened a heavy fire. The galleys were only able to reply with small arm fire, and suffered severely. Several attempts to board were repelled, when an unlucky shot exploded two barrels of musket cartridges on board the _Bengal_. The quarter-deck was blown up, and, in the confusion, the enemy boarded and carried the ship. The first lieutenant, although wounded, jumped overboard and swam to the _Bombay_, which was also in evil plight. A similar explosion had occurred, killing the captain, the first lieutenant, and many of the crew. At this juncture came a welcome breeze, bringing up the _Victory_ grab, which had witnessed the fight without being able to take part in it, and the Angrians drew off. No less than eighty Europeans were lost to the Company in this action.
In January, 1732, the _Ockham_, East Indiaman, coming up the coast with a light wind, was beset, off Dabul, by an Angrian squadron of five grabs and three gallivats. At sunset they came within shot, and a little harmless cannonading took place at long range, till dark. At one in the morning, the moon having risen, they bore down again and attacked the _Ockham_ in their favourite manner, astern. For some time the East Indiaman was exposed to the fire of ten nine-pounders, to which it could only reply with two stern-chasers. Captain Jobson, finding his rigging much cut up, and seeing that the loss of a mast would probably entail the loss of his ship, determined to entice them to close quarters, in the good breeze that was springing up. The plan was explained to the crew, who were in good heart, and encouraged by a promise of two months’ pay. Every gun was manned, while the fire of the two stern-chasers was allowed to slacken, as if ammunition was running short. The bait took; the grabs drew up on the _Ockham’s_ quarter, with their crews cheering and sounding trumpets. At a cable’s distance the _Ockham_ suddenly tacked; and as she gathered way on her new course, she was in the midst of the grabs, firing into them round shot and grape, together with volleys of small arms. This unexpected manoeuvre made the Angrians draw off, and the _Ockham_ resumed her course. At daybreak, only four grabs were in chase, the fifth having evidently suffered severe injuries. A stiff breeze had sprung up, and the crew were eager for another bout, so the _Ockham_ tacked again, and stood for the grabs. But they had had enough of it, and evaded coming to close quarters. Their best chances of successes lay in calms and light airs. With an antagonist like Jobson, in a good stiff wind, the odds were against them; they had lost many men; so after hovering round for some hours they made off to Severndroog.
In 1734, the Coolee rovers, who infested the coast of Guzerat, gave much trouble. Their stronghold was at Sultanpore, on the river Coorla, and they enjoyed the protection of several wealthy persons who shared in their plunder. A squadron under Captain Radford Nunn was sent against them, which captured five armed vessels and burnt fourteen more. To save others from capture they burnt about fifty more small sailing-boats themselves. Six months later, ten more of their boats were burnt and two captured. Under these blows they were quiet for a time.
In December, 1735, a valuable ship fell into Sumbhajee Angria’s hands, owing to the bad behaviour of its captain. The _Derby_, East Indiaman, bringing a great cargo of naval stores from England, and the usual treasure for investment, was due to arrive in Bombay in November. The captain, Anselme, was a schemer, and wished to remain in India for a year, instead of returning to England at once, as had been arranged. Accordingly, he lingered a month in Johanna, and shaped his course northward along the African coast. Thence getting a fair wind which would have brought him directly to Bombay, without running the risk of working along the Malabar coast, he, instead, steered for the latitude of Goa, and thence crept northwards, making as much delay as possible, so as not to reach Bombay till January. On the 26th December, an Angrian squadron of five grabs and four gallivats bore down on the _Derby_, off Severndroog, and engaged in their favourite way of attacking a big ship, astern. There was little wind, and the _Derby_ would neither stay nor wear. Only two guns could be brought to bear at first; there were no guns mounted in the gun-room, and no encouragement was given to the crew. Two years before, the Directors had authorized the captains of outward-bound ships, when exposed to a serious attack, to hoist two treasure chests on deck, for distribution, after the engagement, to the ship’s company, in order to encourage them in making a good resistance. The captains of homeward-bound ships were empowered to promise L2000 to their crews in the same circumstances. Nothing of the kind was done by Anselme. The crew, discontented, fought with little spirit; many of them refused to stand to their guns. The main and mizzen masts were shot away, seven men, including the first mate, were killed, five were dangerously, and a number more slightly, wounded. Still, many of the officers and men were willing to continue the fight, but were overruled by the captain, who insisted on surrender, and the _Derby_ with 115 prisoners, of whom two were ladies, was carried into Severndroog.
No such loss had befallen the Company for many years. The much-needed naval stores went to equip Angria’s fleet, and the money for the season’s investment was lost. The whole Bombay trade was dislocated. Angria, desirous of peace, opened negotiations. The Council, wishing to redeem the prisoners, offered a six months’ truce, and, after eleven months of captivity the prisoners were sent to Bombay, with the exception of three who took service with Angria.
In December, 1736, the _King George_ and three other vessels captured a large grab belonging to Sumbhajee Angria, together with 120 prisoners. A Surat ship that had been taken was also recovered.
The year 1738 was an anxious one in Bombay. The Mahrattas were occupied with the siege of Bassein, which was defended with desperate valour by the Portuguese. Sumbhajee’s vessels were active on the coast, and Mannajee was restless and untrustworthy. Commodore Bagwell, with four of the Company’s best ships, the _Victory, King George, Princess Caroline_, and _Resolution_, was sent to cruise against Sumbhajee, while Captain Inchbird was deputed on a friendly mission to Mannajee. On the 22nd December, Bagwell sighted Sumbhajee’s fleet of nine grabs and thirteen gallivats coming out of Gheriah. He gave chase, and forced them to take refuge in the mouth of the Rajapore River, where they anchored. Bagwell, ignorant of the navigation, and with his crews badly afflicted with scurvy, boldly bore down on them; on which they cut their cables and ran into the river. Before they could get out of shot, he was able to pour in several broadsides at close range, killing Angria’s chief admiral, and inflicting much damage. Fearing to lose some of his ships in the shoal water, he was obliged to draw off, having had one midshipman killed.
Mannajee at once took advantage of Sumbhajee’s temporary discomfiture to attack and capture Caranjah from the Portuguese. Then, elated at his success, and in spite of his own professions of friendship, he seized three unarmed Bombay trading ships and two belonging to Surat. To punish him, Captain Inchbird was sent with a small squadron, and seized eight of his fighting gallivats, together with a number of fishing-boats. Negotiations were opened, broken off, and renewed, during which Mannajee insolently hoisted his flag on the island of Elephanta. With the Mahratta army close at hand in Salsette, the Bombay Council dared not push matters to extremity; so, invoking the help of Chimnajee Appa, the Peishwa’s brother, they patched up a peace with Mannajee. At the same time, Bombay succeeded in making a treaty of friendship with the Peishwa, which secured, to the English, trading facilities in his dominions.
While this was going on, a Dutch squadron of seven ships of war and seven sloops attacked Gheriah, and were beaten off. A little later, Sumbhajee took the _Jupiter_, a French ship of forty guns, with four hundred slaves on board. To English, Dutch, French, and Portuguese alike, his fortresses were impregnable.
In January, 1740, a gallant action was fought by the _Harrington_, Captain Jenkins. The _Harrington_ was returning from a voyage to China, and, in coming up the coast, had joined company with the _Pulteney_, _Ceres_, and _Halifax_. Between Tellicherry and Bombay they were attacked by fifteen sail of Angria’s fleet. Four grabs ran alongside the _Harrington_, but were received with such a well-directed fire that they dropped astern. The four Company’s ships then formed line abreast, and were attacked from astern by Angria’s ships. The brunt of the fight fell on the _Harrington_. Jenkins had trained his crew, and was prepared for this method of attack. After five hours of heavy firing the Angrian ships drew off, showing confusion and loss. At daylight the next morning they attacked again. The _Ceres_ had fallen to leeward, and three grabs attacked her, while three more bore down on the _Harrington_ to windward. Disregarding his own attackers, Jenkins bore down on the assailants of the _Ceres_, and drove them off; then, hauling his wind, he awaited the attack of the others. The three leeward grabs were towed up within range, and for the next two or three hours the _Harrington_ engaged all six, almost single-handed. The wind had fallen; the _Ceres_ and _Halifax_ were out of gunshot; the _Pulteney_ alone was able to give assistance at long range. So well served were the _Harrington’s_ guns that she inflicted more damage than she received, and, by ten o’clock, four of the grabs gave up the contest and were towed away to windward. The other two grabs continued the action for some time, till they also were towed out of action. The two squadrons, just out of gunshot of each other, consulted among themselves. Jenkins found he had only seven rounds left for his big guns, and his consorts, which were more lightly armed, were in little better plight to renew the combat. Still, he put a good face on it, showing no unwillingness to continue the fight; and, on a breeze springing up, the Angrians drew off, leaving the East Indiamen to pursue their voyage. Only one man on board the _Harrington_ was wounded, though the ship was much knocked about. Jenkins was much commended for his skill and courage, and two years later we find him acting as Commodore of the Company’s fleet at Bombay.
Three weeks later, Sumbhajee’s fleet of five grabs and some gallivats appeared off Bombay, and cruised off the mouth of the harbour, as if inviting attack. Commodore Langworth, with the _Pulteney_, _Trial, _Neptune’s Prize_, a bombketch, and five of the largest gallivats, was sent out. The Angrian fleet stood away to the southward, followed by Langworth. The demonstration was a trick to draw off the Bombay fighting ships. When they were well out of the way, Sumbhajee made a sudden attack on Mannajee’s territories with two thousand men and forty or fifty gallivats. Sumbhajee had gained over a number of Mannajee’s officers, and Alibagh, Thull, and Sagurgurh fell into his hands at once. He attacked Chaul, but was beaten off by the Portuguese, and then laid siege to Colaba. Mannajee was at once reduced to great straits. Half his garrison were untrustworthy, and his water supply was cut off. In his distress he appealed to Bombay for assistance. Though the Council bore him little good will, they recognized that it was better to maintain him in Colaba than to allow Sumbhajee to establish himself there; so, in great haste, the _Halifax_, a small country ship, the _Futteh Dowlet_ grab, the _Triumph_, _Prahm_, and the _Robert_ galley were equipped and sent down, under Captain Inchbird, arriving just in time to save the place. Water was supplied to the garrison, and Bombardier Smith, together with gunner’s mate Watson, a mortar and plenty of ammunition were put into the fort. Sumbhajee’s batteries were much damaged by the shells from the mortar, his camp was bombarded by Inchbird, and his gallivats forced to run for Severndroog. This prompt action of the Bombay Council upset Sumbhajee’s plans. He addressed remonstrances to the Council, offering to restore the _Anne_, which he had taken some months before. A week later, a Mahratta force, from Salsette, under the Peishwa’s son, Ballajee Bajee Rao, appeared on the scene, attacked Sumbhajee’s camp, destroyed some of his batteries, killing a number of his men, and taking prisoner his half-brother, Toolajee.
In his distress, Sumbhajee tried to come to terms with Mannajee. Each distrusted the other, and both were afraid of the Peishwa. At this juncture the death of the Peishwa was announced. Ballajee Bajee Rao was obliged to return to Satara, and Sumbhajee was allowed to retreat, after making peace with the Mahrattas. The promptitude and energy with which the English had come to the assistance of Mannajee raised them greatly in the esteem of the new Peishwa, and strengthened the bonds of the alliance.
Mannajee now found it expedient to make a solid peace with the English. The new Peishwa had his hands full at Satara. The only power able to afford him ready protection against Sumbhajee was the English, the value of whose friendship he had lately experienced. So he sent agents to Bombay, offering to pay a sum of Rs.7500, on restitution of the gallivats taken from him by Inchbird the year before. On this basis a peace was made.
At the same time, the Portuguese, whose power and resources were fast diminishing, recognized the difficulty of retaining the isolated fortress of Chaul. They offered it first to the Dutch and then to the English, but the dangerous gift was refused by both. Finally they made it over to the Peishwa by agreement.[1]
While these things were going on, the _Antelope_, gallivat, fell a prey to the Coolee rovers of Sultanpore. Through the treachery of the pilot it was run ashore. The crew defended themselves gallantly, but in the course of the action the ship blew up, and ten Europeans, two sepoys, and two lascars were killed.
In view of the losses he had sustained, Sumbhajee Angria now tried to patch up a peace with Bombay. In order to test his sincerity, he was required, as a preliminary step, to restore the English prisoners he held. Just then he scored a success against the Portuguese, from whom he captured two fine grabs and a convoy; so the negotiation came to a standstill. But his fortunes were declining, his people were leaving his service, while Mannajee, protected by the Peishwa and the English, was increasing in power; so he again addressed the Bombay Governor, in a letter beginning ‘For thirty years we have been at war.’ But it was soon discovered that his object was to have his hands free to attack Mannajee, and his overtures came to nothing. In May, 1743, he captured the Bombay ketch _Salamander_, off Colaba, but before it could be carried off it was rescued by some of Mannajee’s ships from Chaul, and restored to Bombay. Very shortly afterwards, Sumbhajee died, and was succeeded by his half-brother, Toolajee. The reputation of the English in Bombay was now so good, that a quarrel between Mannajee and the Peishwa was referred to them for arbitration.
The predatory policy of the Angrian family did not suffer in the hands of Toolajee. Within a few weeks of Sumbhajee’s death, his squadron fought a prolonged action with the _Warwick_ and _Montagu_, East Indiamen, and carried off five small vessels sailing under their convoy. Commodore Hough in the _Restoration_, together with the _Bombay_ grab, was at once sent down the coast, and found seven Angrian grabs with a number of gallivats, which he forced to take shelter under the guns of Severndroog. A year later, the _Princess Augusta_ from Bencoolen was captured by Toolajee, and taken into Gheriah. After plundering it, Toolajee found it was too poor a sailer to be of use to him, so he allowed the Bombay Council to redeem it for Rs.8000.
Meanwhile, war with France had broken out, and the capture of Madras by La Bourdonnais dealt a severe blow to English prestige. The restless Mannajee began stopping and plundering small native craft belonging to Bombay, with the intention, no doubt, of flying at higher game in time. Reprisals were at once ordered, and a vessel of Mannajee’s was captured. This brought him to reason, and the vessel was released on his signing a bond to make good the losses he had caused. The loss of Madras was telling against the English, everywhere. In Bengal the Mahrattas seized the Cossimbazaar flotilla bound for Calcutta, valued at four lakhs of rupees. Mannajee still continued to be troublesome, till the Seedee, taking advantage of the situation, attacked and captured Thull, which kept him quiet for a time.
Considerable anxiety was caused in Bombay, at this time, by the appearance of three French men-of-war cruising on the coast, with the evident intention of waylaying the Company’s ships from Europe. One of them was a fifty-gun ship, and there was nothing in Bombay harbour to cope with her. To meet the difficulty, a large number of fishing-boats were sent out, each with an English sailor on board, to creep along the coast and warn all incoming ships. In spite of these precautions, the _Anson_ missed the boats sent to warn her, and was attacked by the French _Apollo_ and _Anglesea_ within sight of the harbour. Captain Foulis defended himself long enough to enable him to send off the dispatches and treasure he carried, in his boats, before he was forced to surrender.[2] The Directors bestowed on him a gratuity of L400 for his able conduct.
Fortunately for Bombay, Toolajee Angria’s energies were at this time directed against Canara, where in two successive expeditions he sacked Mangalore and Honore, carrying off a large booty.
In October, 1749, Toolajee, who for some time had been giving little trouble, inflicted a severe loss on the Bombay marine. The _Restoration_ was the most efficient ship at the Council’s disposal. It had been commanded by Captain Hough, a bold and resolute man, who had done good service in her, attacking Angria’s ships and chasing them into their fortified harbours. She carried seventy-five European seamen, sixteen lascars, and thirty soldiers–unruly fellows who wanted a firm hand over them. Hough had fallen ill, and the command was given to Captain Thomas Leake, an irresolute man, not fitted to command such, a crew. They very soon fell into disorder. While coming up the coast from Goa they were attacked by Toolajee’s fleet of five grabs, accompanied by a swarm of gallivats. From noon till dark the _Restoration_ was surrounded and cannonaded. Her guns were so badly served that they inflicted little or no damage, while her own sails and rigging were badly cut about. During the night, the action was fitfully continued, her ammunition being lavishly and uselessly expended. Toolajee himself was present, and had a number of European gunners with him. At noon the next day his grabs edged down again, fell aboard the _Restoration_, and boarded. On this, the colours were struck, Leake ran below, an example that was followed by his crew, and the ship was taken. When they were released, some months afterwards, the Council, after due inquiry, decided that Leake and his officers should not serve the Company again till the Directors’ pleasure was known.
Meanwhile, the Coolees of Guzerat had become very troublesome. In 1749, they captured a Bengal ship with Rs.60,000 in hard cash on board, and a cargo of nearly equal value. Their depredations continuing, the Dutch proposed joint action against them; so, in December, 1750, a joint Dutch and English squadron forced the defences of the Coorla River, burnt and captured twenty-three of their vessels, and reduced them to quietness for a time.
Toolajee had now become very powerful. From Cutch to Cochin his vessels swept the coast in greater numbers than Conajee had ever shown, and cruised defiantly off Bombay harbour. But for the presence of four King’s ships on the coast, Bombay trade would have suffered severely. When Boscawen left Indian waters,[3] after receiving over Madras from the French, he detached four ships, the _Vigilant_, Tartar_, _Ruby_, and _Syren_, to cruise on the West coast, under Commodore Lisle. For two years, the protection afforded by Lisle’s squadron gave some security to the Bombay coast trade. As the small sailing boats, in which the coast trade was carried on, made their way under convoy of the King’s ships, Angria’s squadrons hovered round to pick up stragglers, and several slight encounters took place. The superior sailing powers of the Mahratta vessels enabled them to keep out of range of the big guns, while they snatched prizes within sight of the men-of-war. Thus, in February, 1750, three small traders were snapped up, while under convoy of the _Ruby_, by an Angrian squadron that hung on their tracks for four days, between Bombay and Vingorla. In October, the _Tartar_, with twenty-six sail under convoy, was followed for three days, between Bombay and Surat, by eleven Angrian gallivats, and lost one of the number. Three weeks later, the _Syren’s_ convoy was attacked in the same waters by thirteen Angrian vessels, which were beaten off without loss. In March, 1751, thirty-six trading vessels, under convoy of the _Vigilant_ and _Ruby_, were attacked by six Angrian vessels, which behaved with great boldness. Instead of devoting themselves to the traders, they bore down on the _Ruby_, and opened fire at close range, with great guns and small arms. Before long an Angrian grab was seen to be on fire, and in a short time the after part blew up. Several pieces of mast were blown on board the _Ruby_, tearing her sails and wounding two men. The grab sunk, and her consorts made off. Hardly had Lisle’s squadron sailed for England[4] when the Council sustained a loss in the _Swallow_ sloop, which was taken by Toolajee, together with a convoy of rice-boats.
The great benefit conferred on the coast trade by Lisle’s squadron taught the Directors the necessity of a change of policy. Hitherto their fighting ships had been utilized to carry cargoes along the coast, a practice that greatly hampered their action. They now determined on keeping ships for fighting only; so they ordered the building of the _Protector_, a forty-gun ship, and the _Guardian_, a sloop. The two new ships left Sheerness in the winter of 1751, commanded by Captains Cheyne and James, and the most stringent orders were sent with them that they were to carry no cargoes, and were to be kept on the Malabar coast as long as Angria should keep the sea. During the next three years, the _Protector_ and _Guardian_ did much useful work, convoying the coasting trade, and offering battle to Angria’s ships whenever they met them.
[1] September, 1740.
[2] 2nd September, 1747.
[3] November, 1749.
[4] November, 1751.
CHAPTER XI
_THE DOWNFALL OF ANGRIA_
Toolajee fights successful action with the Dutch–He tries to make peace with Bombay–Alliance formed against him–Commodore William James– Slackness of the Peishwa’s fleet–Severndroog–James’s gallant attack– Fall of Severndroog–Council postpone attack on Gheriah–Clive arrives from England–Projects of the Directors–Admiral Watson–Preparations against Gheriah.–The Council’s instructions–Council of war about prize-money–Double dealing of the Peishwa’s officers–Watson’s hint–Ships engage Gheriah–Angrian fleet burnt–Fall of Gheriah–Clive occupies the fort–The prize-money–Dispute between Council and Poonah Durbar–Extinction of coast piracy–Severndroog tower.
In the beginning of 1754, the Dutch suffered a severe loss at Toolajee’s hands. A vessel loaded with ammunition was taken, and two large ships were blown up after a stiff fight, in which Toolajee had two three-masted grabs sunk and a great number of men killed. Six months later, Toolajee sent an agent to Bombay to propose terms of accommodation. They were terms to which a conciliatory answer, at least, would have been returned in Conajee Angria’s time. The Council’s reply betrays a consciousness of increased strength. “Can you imagine that the English will ever submit to take passes of any Indian nation? This they cannot do. We grant passes, but would take none from anybody.” Toolajee was told that if he was in earnest in desiring peace, he should return the vessels he had taken, and send men of figure and consequence to treat, instead of the obscure individual through whom his overtures had come. In spite of this peremptory reply, Toolajee continued to make half-hearted proposals for peace. The fact was that he was now at open war with the Peishwa, who had made himself master of the Concan, with the exception of the coastline. According to Orme, Toolajee had cut off the noses of the agents sent by the Peishwa to demand the tribute formerly paid to Satara. The Poonah Durbar were so incensed against him that they were determined on his destruction, though without the assistance of the English they had little expectation of success against his coast fortresses. The Bombay Council was ready enough to join in the undertaking, but was unwilling to take immediate action. This unwillingness was apparently due to their desire to see order first restored in Surat, where affairs had fallen into great disorder in the general break-up of Mogul rule.
The Mahratta Court at Poona had been close observers of the long war waged in the Carnatic between the English and French. They had seen Madras taken, only to be regained by diplomacy, and after the English had been foiled at Pondicherry. They had witnessed the rise of French power under Dupleix; rulers deposed and others set up, in the Deccan and the Carnatic, by French arms; and then, when Mahomed Ali, the rightful ruler of the Carnatic, was at his last gasp, they had seen his cause espoused by the English, and one humiliation after another inflicted on French armies, till at last the French were forced to recognize Mahomed Ali’s title, while a powerful English squadron and a King’s regiment had been sent out to make good the claim. The good relations established between the Peishwa’s government and Bombay by the treaty of 1739, had been strengthened since the arrival of Mr. Richard Bourchier, as Governor, in 1750; the fighting in the Carnatic had raised the military reputation of the English, while their support of Mahomed Ali, whom the Mahrattas styled ‘their master,’ had greatly increased the esteem in which they were held.
When it was definitely known that hostilities between the English and French were at an end, Ramajee Punt, the Sirsoobah of the Concan, was dispatched to Bombay to concert measures against Toolajee. Mr. Bourchier was urged to summon the King’s ships from Madras to co-operate with the Peishwa’s forces.
To await the arrival of Watson’s squadron from Madras would have lost the favourable season before the monsoon, so it was determined to fit out at once what ships were in the harbour, and send them under Commodore William James. Articles of agreement were drawn up, by which it was settled that Severndroog, Anjanvel, and Jyeghur should be attacked by the Mahrattas, while the English engaged to keep the sea, and prevent Toolajee’s fleet from throwing succours into the places attacked. A division of the spoils between the victors was agreed on, by which the English were to receive Bankote and Himmutghur, with five villages, in perpetual sovereignty. The Peishwa’s fleet was to be under James’s orders, and he was instructed to give all the assistance in his power, but not to lend any of his people, except a few to point the guns.
Very little is accurately known of James’s career before his entry into the East India Company’s service. He was born in Pembrokeshire in humble circumstances, and went to sea at an early age. According to one account, he served in Hawke’s ship, but, wherever his training was received, it had made him a first-rate seaman. In 1747, he entered the Company’s marine service, being then about twenty-six years of age.
In 1751, he sailed from England in command of the _Guardian_ sloop, one of the two men-of-war built by the Directors for the protection of Bombay trade. His services against the coast pirates, during the next two years, procured his advancement to the post of Commodore at Bombay, and it was soon remarked that the sailing of the _Protector_, on which his flag was now hoisted, had greatly improved by the changes he had made. By his capture of Severndroog, now to be related, he became famous. He played his part at the capture of Gheriah, and, in the following year, when the news of the disaster at Calcutta became known in Bombay, he was sent down in the _Revenge_, with four hundred men, to join the force sent up from Madras under Watson and Clive. Off Calicut he encountered the French ship _Indien_, carrying twenty-four guns and over two hundred men, and captured her. He afterwards joined the board of Directors, was created a baronet, had a seat in Parliament, and, in time, became chairman of the Company. Sterne, in the last year of his life, formed a close friendship with Mr. and Mrs. James, and, a few days before he died, recommended his daughter Lydia to their care.
On the 22nd March, 1755, James sailed from Bombay in the _Protector_, forty guns, having with him the _Swallow_, sixteen guns, the _Viper_ bombketch, and the _Triumph_ prahm. The following day, he sighted an Angrian squadron of seven grabs and eleven gallivats, which he chased for a couple of hours without success. Two days later, he was joined off Chaul by the Peishwa’s fleet, consisting of seven grabs, two batellas, and about forty gallivats. To James’s annoyance, he found his allies in no hurry to get on. Twice they insisted on landing, lingering for over three days in one place. On the 29th, Severndroog was sighted, and Angria’s fleet of seven grabs and ten gallivats was observed coming out. The signal to chase was made, but obeyed with little alacrity by the Peishwa’s people, though experience had shown that they could outsail the Bombay ships. James gave chase with his little squadron, his Mahratta allies being left, by evening, hull down, astern. The Angrians made prodigious exertions to escape, hanging out turbans and clothing to catch every breath of air. All the following day the ineffectual chase continued, the _Protector_ outsailing its own consorts, and losing sight altogether of its Mahratta allies. Finding it useless to persevere, James hauled his wind, and stood to the northward for Severndroog, which he had left far behind in the chase. Here he found Ramajee Punt, who had landed a few men, and entrenched himself at about two miles from the nearest fort, with a single four-pounder gun.
The harbour of Severndroog[1] is formed by a slight indentation in the coast and a small rocky islet about a quarter of a mile from the mainland, on which was the Severndroog fort, with walls fifty feet high, and, in many places, parapets cut out of the solid rock; the whole armed with about fifty guns. On the mainland, opposite to Severndroog, was another fort. Fort Gova, armed with, about forty-four guns, while southwards of Gova were two smaller forts on a small promontory, Futteh Droog and Kanak Droog, armed with twenty guns each.
James at once saw that the reduction of the different forts by the Peishwa’s troops would be a matter of months, even if he was able to keep out succours from the sea, which the monsoon would render impossible; so, in spite of the Council’s orders, he resolved on taking matters into his own hands. He had been brought up in a good school, and knew that, to match a ship against a fort with success, it was necessary to get as close as possible, and overpower it with weight of metal. After taking the necessary soundings, on the 2nd April he stood in to four-fathom water, taking with him the _Viper_ and _Triumph_, and bombarded Severndroog fort. The Mahratta fleet gave no assistance, so the _Swallow_ was detached to guard the southern entrance. All day long the cannonade continued, till a heavy swell setting into the harbour, in the evening, obliged a cessation of fire. The fort fired briskly in return, but did little damage; while the Mahratta fleet lay off out of range, idle spectators of the conflict. At night came Ramajee Punt on board the _Protector_, bringing with him a deserter from the fort, who reported that the Governor had been killed and a good deal of damage done. He told them that it was impossible to breach the side on which the _Protector’s_ fire was directed, as it was all solid rock.
In the morning, the _Protector_ weighed and ran in again, James placing his ships between Severndroog and Gova. The flagship engaged Severndroog so closely that, by the small arm fire of men in the tops, and by firing two or three upper-deck guns at a time instead of in broadsides, the Severndroog gunners were hardly able to return a shot. With her lower-deck guns on the other side the _Protector_ cannonaded the mainland forts, which also received the attention of the _Viper_ and _Triumph_. It would be difficult to find a parallel to this instance of a single ship and two bombketches successfully engaging four forts at once, that far outnumbered them in guns; but so good were James’s arrangements that neither his ships nor his men suffered harm. Soon after midday a magazine exploded in Severndroog; the conflagration spread, and, before long, men, women, and children were seen taking to their boats, and escaping to the mainland. Numbers of them were intercepted and taken by the _Swallow_ and the Mahratta gallivats. The bombardment of the mainland forts was continued till night, and resumed the following morning, till about ten o’clock, when all three hauled down their colours. Thus, in forty-eight hours, did James by his vigorous action reduce this Angrian stronghold that was second only to Gheriah in strength. The Mahrattas were never slow at seizing any advantage that had been won by others, as was shown a few months later at Gheriah; but on this occasion they were so struck by James’s intrepidity that they refused to enter Gova without him. The English flag was hoisted in all three forts, amid the cheers of the English sailors. It was then found that, by mismanagement, the Governor of Gova had been allowed to escape over to Severndroog, and gallantly reoccupied it, with a small body of sepoys, hoping to hold out till assistance could reach him from Dabul. So the _Protector’s_ guns were set to work again, and, under cover of their fire, a party of seamen was landed, who hewed open the sally port with their axes and made themselves masters of the fort. Thus, in a few hours, and without losing a single man, had “the spirited resolution of Commodore James destroyed the timorous prejudices which had for twenty years been entertained of the impracticability of reducing any of Angria’s fortified harbours.”
The whole success of the expedition had been due to James, and the Peishwa’s officers ungrudgingly acknowledged the fact, as well as the bad behaviour of their own people. “I have learnt with particular satisfaction that the fleet your Honor sent to the assistance of Ramajee Punt have by their courage and conduct reduced Severndroog, the suddenness of which transcends my expectations; and I allow myself incapable of sufficiently commending their merit,” wrote the Peishwa’s Commander-in-Chief to Bourchier. Ramajee Punt wrote in similar terms, and sent a dress of honour to James. In their elation, the Peishwa’s officers wished to complete the destruction of Angria without delay. Bankote was surrendered to them without firing a shot, and a demonstration was made against Rutnaghiri. But the Council was cautious, and forbade James to risk his ships. The Mahrattas offered him two lakhs of rupees if he would support them in attacking Dabul, but he dared not exceed his orders again, and returned to Bombay. The success of a second _coup-de-main_ could not be relied on, and a repulse would have restored Toolajee’s drooping spirits, and made future success more difficult. The soldiers Bombay had lent to Madras were no longer required, so James was sent there in the _Protector_, to bring them back after the monsoon.
In the end of October, an unexpected accession of force, from England, reached Bombay. In the suspension of arms that had been concluded at Madras between the English and French, Carnatic affairs alone were made the subject of agreement. Bussy, with a French force, remained in the Deccan, engaged in extending the Nizam’s influence, a proceeding that was viewed with alarm by the Peishwa. With the object of expelling the French from the Deccan, the English Government sent out to Bombay a force of seven hundred men, to act against Bussy, in concert with the Mahratta Government. The command was to be taken by Lieutenant-Colonel Scott, the Company’s engineer-general at Madras. The Directors had also sent Clive to Bombay to act as second in command to Scott. But Scott had died, in the mean time, and the _Doddington_, East Indiaman, bringing the Directors’ instructions to the Bombay Council, had been wrecked near the Cape. Before the middle of November, Watson’s squadron arrived, in furtherance of the Deccan project, together with James, in the _Protector_, bringing two hundred and fifty-five Bombay soldiers from Madras. Clive, alone, knew of the Directors’ plan for the Deccan, and urged it on the Council. Ramajee Punt was in Bombay urging them to complete the destruction of Angria, and inviting them to take possession of Bankote;[2] so they decided to devote themselves to Gheriah, on the grounds that the Deccan expedition would be an infringement of the late agreement with the French.
Seeing that nothing was to be done in the _Deccan_, Watson tendered the services of his squadron to assist in the reduction of Gheriah, and Clive offered to command the land forces. James was sent down in the _Protector_, with the _Revenge_ and _Guardian_, with Sir William Hewitt, Watson’s flag lieutenant, to reconnoitre and take soundings. Nothing was known of Gheriah. It was supposed to be as high, and as strong as Gibraltar. Like that celebrated fortress, it stood on rocky ground at the end of a promontory, connected with the mainland by a narrow neck of ground, at the month of a small estuary. James found that it was less formidable than it had been represented, and that large ships could go close in. To prevent Toolajee’s ships from escaping, the _Bridgewater_, _Kingsfisher_, and _Revenge_ were sent to blockade the place till the expedition was ready to start.
On the 11th February, the whole force was assembled off Gheriah, a greater armament than had yet ever left Bombay harbour. In addition to Watson’s squadron of six vessels, four of them line-of-battle ships, and displaying the flags of two admirals, the Company’s marine made a brave show of eighteen ships, large and small, carrying two hundred and fourteen guns, besides twenty fishing-boats to land troops with, each carrying a swivel-gun in the bows. Between them they carried eight hundred European and six hundred native troops. With Watson also went Captain Hough, superintendent of the Company’s marine, as representative of the Council.
Part of the instructions given to Clive and Hough by the Council will bear repeating.
“It is probable that Toolajee Angria may offer to capitulate, and possibly offer a sum of money; but you are to consider that this fellow is not on a footing with any prince in the known world, he being a pirate in whom no confidence can be put, not only taking, burning, and destroying ships of all nations, but even the vessels belonging to the natives, which have his own passes, and for which he has annually collected large sums of money. Should he offer any sum of money it must be a very great one that will pay us for the many rich ships he has taken (which we can’t enumerate), besides the innumerable other smaller vessels; but we well remember the _Charlotte_ bound from hence to China, belonging to Madras; the _William_ belonging to Bombay, from Bengal; the _Severn_, a Bengal freight ship for Bussorah, value nine or ten lakhs of rupees; the _Derby_ belonging to the Hon’ble Company, with the Grab _Restoration_, value Rs.5,22,743-4-6; the sloop _Pilot_ and the _Augusta_; also the _Dadaboy_ from Surat, _Rose_ from Mangalore, Grab _Anne_ from Gombroon, _Benjimolly_ from the Malabar coast, and _Futte Dowlat_ from Muscat.”
The Council were desirous of getting Toolajee into their own custody, fearful that, if left in Mahratta hands, he would be set free before long, and the work would have to be done over again.
Before the expedition left Bombay, a council of war was held, to decide on the division of spoils, between the sea and land forces. Such agreements were common enough, on such occasions, in order to prevent subsequent disputes and individual plundering. In settling the shares of the officers, the council decided that Clive and Chalmers, who was next to Clive in command of the troops, should have shares equal to that of two captains of King’s ships. To this Clive objected that, though as Lieutenant-Colonel, his share would, according to custom, be equal to that of a naval captain, on this occasion, as Commander-in-Chief of the troops, it should be greater, and ought not to be less than that of Rear-Admiral Pocock. The council of war refused to agree to this, as the naval officers, who formed the majority, could not be brought to consent. Like Drake, who would rather diminish his own portion than leave any of his people unsatisfied, Watson undertook to ‘give the Colonel such a part of his share as will make it equal to Rear-Admiral Pocock’s;’ and this was duly entered in the proceedings.
In the division of spoils, no mention is made of their Mahratta allies. They were left out of account altogether, and the reason is not far to seek. Experience had shown that, in the coming military operations, the Mahrattas would count for nothing. All the hard knocks would fall on the English, and it was but fair that they should have the prize-money; the Mahrattas would gain a substantial benefit in the possession of Gheriah, which was to be made over to them after capture.
The arrangements for the command of the troops showed that the lessons of the last ten years of warfare against the French had borne fruit. The command was left to those who made it their profession. Henceforth we hear no more of factors and writers strutting about in uniform, calling themselves colonels and captains for a few weeks, and then returning to their ledgers. We have done with the Midfords and the Browns. Out of the thirteen years he had served the Company, Clive had been a soldier for eleven. He had definitely abandoned his civil position, and had embraced a military career, and his merits had been recognized by the grant of a Lieutenant-Colonel’s commission from the King. The subordinate military officers also had improved. The worst of them had been weeded out, and many of them had learned their business under Lawrence in the Carnatic. Though much unnecessary interference still went on in quarters, they were left unfettered in the command of their men in the field.
A few hours after leaving Bombay, the expedition was overtaken by despatches from Bourchier, with intelligence that the Mahrattas were treating with Toolajee. On reaching Gheriah, they found the Mahratta army encamped against it, and Ramajee Punt himself came off to tell the commanders that, with a little patience, the fort would surrender without firing a shot, as Toolajee was already in their hands and ready to treat. Alarmed at the great armament coming against him, and cowed by recent reverses, Toolajee had come as a suppliant into the Mahratta camp to try if, by finesse and chicanery, he might escape utter destruction, while, in Gheriah, he had left his brother-in-law with orders to defend it to the last. The Peishwa’s officers, on their side, were anxious to get the place into their hands without admitting the English to any share of the booty; a design that was at once seen through by Hough and Watson. Ramajee promised to bring Toolajee with him the following day, to show that he was not treating separately. Instead of doing so, he sent some subordinate officers, together with some of Toolajee’s relations, with excuses, to keep Watson in play, while a large bribe was offered to Hough to induce him to persuade the Admiral to suspend operations. Watson, who had already summoned the fort to surrender, let them know that he would not wait very long. They were taken to view the ship with its tiers of heavy guns, and, as a grim hint of what might be expected, he presented Toolajee’s friends with a thirty-two pound shot as they left the ship.
At half-past one in the afternoon, the flag of truce having returned with the Governor’s refusal to surrender, signal was made to weigh, and the whole fleet stood into the harbour in three divisions, led by the _Kingsfisher_, sloop, and the _Bridgewater_. The inner line, nearest to the fort was formed by the line-of-battle ships and the _Protector_: the Company’s grabs and bombketches, with the _Guardian_, formed the second line, while the gallivats and small vessels formed a third, outer line. As the _Kingsfisher_ came opposite the fort, a shot was fired at her. The signal was made to engage, and as each ship reached its station it came to an anchor, the inner line being within musket-shot of the fort. Across the mouth of the river, Toolajee’s grabs were drawn up, among them being the _Restoration_, the capture of which, six years before, had caused so much heart-burning in Bombay. As the heavy shot and shell came pouring in from over one hundred and fifty guns at close range, the Gheriah defenders manfully strove to repay the same with interest. But so terrific was the fire brought to bear on them, that it was impossible for them to lay their guns properly. In that February afternoon many a cruel outrage was expiated under that hail of iron. After two hours’ firing, a shell set the _Restoration_ on fire; it spread to the grabs, and before long the Angrian fleet,[3] that had been the terror of the coast for half a century, was in a blaze. The boats were ordered out, and, as evening came on, Clive was put on shore with the troops, and took up a position a mile and a half from the fort. The Mahrattas joined him, and Toolajee, from whom the Peishwa’s people had extorted a promise to surrender the fort, found means to send a letter into the place, warning his brother-in-law against surrender to the English. In the fort all was terror and dismay, though the Governor manfully did his duty. From the burning shipping the flames spread to the bazaars and warehouses. All night the bombketches threw in shells, while the conflagration continued. One square tower in the fort burned with such violence as to resemble a fabric of red-hot iron in a smithy.
Early next morning, Watson sent in a flag of truce again, but surrender was still refused, so the line-of-battle ships were warped in and recommenced firing; while Clive, who had approached the fort, battered it from the land side. At four in the afternoon a magazine in the fort blew up, and a white flag was hoisted. An officer was sent on shore, but the Governor still attempted to evade surrender. He consented to admit five or six men into the fort to hoist English colours, but would not definitely surrender possession till next day. So fire was reopened, and in twenty minutes more the Angrian flag was hauled down for the last time, and the last shred of Angrian independence had ceased to exist.
Sixty men, under Captains Forbes and Buchanan, were marched up to hold the gate for the night. A body of the Peishwa’s troops tried to gain admission, and offered the officers a bill on Bombay for a lakh of rupees to allow them to pass in. The offer was rejected, but the Peishwa’s officer still continued to press in, till Forbes faced his men about, and, drawing his sword, swore he would cut him down if he persisted.
The following morning, the fort was taken possession of by Clive. The success had been gained at the cost of about twenty men killed and wounded.
Ramajee Punt at once made a formal demand for the fort to be given up to him. Watson, in return, demanded that Toolajee should be made over into English custody. Meanwhile, a hunt for the treasure secreted in different places went on. “Every day hitherto has been productive of some new discoveries of treasure, plate, and jewels, etc.,” wrote Hough three days later. Altogether about one hundred and thirty thousand pounds’ worth of gold, silver, and jewels were secured, and divided between the land and sea forces. True to his promise, Watson sent Clive a thousand pounds to make his share equal to Pocock’s. Clive sent it back again. He was satisfied with the acknowledgment of his claim, but would not take what came out of Watson’s private purse. “Thus did these two gallant officers endeavour to outvie each other in mutual proofs of disinterestedness and generosity,” wrote Ives in his narrative. A thousand pounds was a larger sum then than it would be now, and Clive was a poor man at the time, but he was never greedy of money. The incident justifies his boast, long afterwards, of his moderation when the treasures of Bengal were at his mercy. It is allowable to suppose that it strengthened the mutual respect of both, and facilitated their co-operation in Bengal, a year later. It was a fortunate thing for England that Watson was not a man of Matthews’ stamp.
The Europeans in Toolajee’s service appear to have left him before the attack began, as no mention is made of them; but ten Englishmen and three Dutchmen were found in the place, in a state of slavery, and released.
In delivering over Bankote, the Mahrattas had failed to give, with the fort, the five villages according to agreement. The Council were desirous of having Toolajee in their own keeping, so they refused to give over Gheriah, and for some months a wrangle went on concerning the points in dispute. The Council proposed that they should retain Gheriah and give up Bankote. The Peishwa taunted the Council with breach of faith, and refused to give up Toolajee. The squabble was at last settled by the Mahrattas engaging to give ten villages near Bankote, and that Toolajee should not receive any territory within forty miles of the sea. On these conditions Gheriah was delivered over. Toolajee, instead of being given any territory, was kept a prisoner for the rest of his life. Some years afterwards, his sons made their escape, and sought refuge in Bombay.
With the fall of Gheriah, the heavy cloud that had so long hung over Bombay trade was dispelled. Thenceforward none but the smallest vessels had anything to fear on the coast south of Bombay, though another half-century elapsed before the Malwans were compelled to give up piracy. The Sanganians continued to be troublesome, at times, till they too were finally reduced to order in 1816, after more than one expedition had been sent against them. Persian Gulf piracy continued to flourish till 1835, when it was brought to an end by a happy combination of arms and diplomacy.
On Shooter’s Hill, adjoining Woolwich Common, the tower of Severndroog, erected by James’s widow to commemorate his great achievement, forms a conspicuous landmark in the surrounding country. Here, in sight of the spot where the bones of Kidd and his associates long hung in chains as a terror to evil-doers, there still lingers a breath of that long struggle against the Angrian pirates, and of its triumphant conclusion.
“This far-seen monumental tow’r
Records the achievements of the brave, And Angria’s subjugated pow’r,
Who plundered on the Eastern wave.”
_”Walks through London,” David Hughson_.
[1] Properly Suvarna Droog, ‘the Golden Fortress.’
[2] Bankote was made over on the 6th December, and the British flag hoisted there on the 10th January, 1756.
[3] Three three-masted ships carrying twenty guns each; nine two-masted, carrying from twelve to sixteen guns; thirteen gallivats, carrying from six to ten guns; thirty others unclassed; two on the stocks, one of them pierced for forty guns.
* * * * *
AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN INDIA TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO
On the 9th March, 1709, the _Loyall Bliss_, East Indiaman, Captain Hudson, left her anchorage in the Downs and sailed for Bengal. As passengers, she carried Captain Gerrard Cooke, his wife, a son and two daughters, together with a few soldiers. For many years Cooke had served the Company at Fort William, as Gunner, an office that included the discharge of many incongruous duties. After a stay in England, he was now returning to Bengal, as engineer, with the rank of captain. The _Loyall Bliss_ was a clumsy sailer, and made slow progress; so that August had come before she left the Cape behind her. Contrary winds and bad weather still detained her, and kept her westward of her course. By the middle of September, the south-west monsoon, on which they depended to carry them up the bay, had ceased to blow, so–
“our people being a great many Downe with the scurvy and our water being short, wee called a Consultation of Officers it being too late to pretend to get bengali the season being come that the N.E. Trade wind being sett in and our people almost every man tainted with distemper,” it was determined to make for Carwar and “endever to gett refresments there.”
On the 7th October, they came to anchor in the little bay formed by the Carwar River. The next day, hearing of a French man-of-war being on the coast, they procured a pilot and anchored again under the guns of the Portuguese fort on the island of Angediva, where lay the bones of some three hundred of the first royal troops ever sent to India. Twenty-six soldiers were sent on shore, ‘most of them not being able to stand.’ The chief of the Company’s factory at Carwar at that time was Mr. John Harvey, who entertained Captain Hudson and all the gentlemen and ladies on board ‘in a splendid manner.’ One may picture to one’s self the pleasure with which they escaped for a time from the ship and its scurvy-stricken crew. To Mr. Harvey and the Company’s officials they were welcome as bringing the latest news from England. They were able to tell of Marlborough’s victory at Oudenarde, and the capture of Lille and Minorca, while Harvey was able to tell them of Captain Kidd’s visit to Carwar twelve years before, and to show them where the freebooter had careened his ship. But Mr. John Harvey found other matter of interest in his visitors. There were few Englishwomen in India in those days, and the unexpected advent of a fresh young English girl aroused his susceptibilities to such an extent that he forgot to report to Bombay the arrival of the _Loyall Bliss_, for which, he, in due time, received a reprimand. He quickly made known to Captain Cooke that he had taken a very great liking to his eldest daughter. Mistress Catherine Cooke, ‘a most beautiful lady, not exceeding thirteen or fourteen years of age.’ Cooke was a poor man, and had left two more daughters in England; so, as Mr. Harvey ‘proffered to make great Settlements provided the Father and Mother would consent to her marriage,’ Mistress Catherine Cooke, ‘to oblige her parents,’ consented also. There was little time for delay, as the captain of the _Loyall Bliss_ was impatient to be off. The Company’s ship _Tankerville_ was on the coast, bound southward, and it was desirable they should sail in company for mutual protection. So, on the 22nd October, the _Loyall Bliss_ made sail for Bengal, where she safely arrived in due time, leaving behind the young bride at Carwar.
To the lookers-on the marriage was repugnant, and can hardly have been a happy one for the young girl, as Harvey was ‘a deformed man and in years.’ He had been long on the coast, and by diligent trading had acquired a little money; but he had other things to think of besides his private trade, as we find recorded at the time that ‘the Rajah of Carwar continues ill-natured.’ By the end of 1710, he made up his mind to resign the Company’s service, wind up his affairs, and go to England; so Mr. Robert Mence was appointed to succeed him at Carwar, and, in April, 1711, Harvey and his child-wife came to Bombay. But to wind up trading transactions of many years’ standing was necessarily a long business, and there was no necessity for hurry, as no ship could leave for England till after the monsoon. As always happened in those days, his own accounts were mixed up with those of the Company, and would require laborious disentanglement. Before leaving Carwar, he had leased to the Company his trading grab, the _Salamander_, and had taken the precaution to pay himself out of the Company’s treasure chest at Carwar. Before long, there was an order to the Carwar chief to recharge Mr. Harvey 402 Pagodas, 17 Jett, and 4 Pice he had charged to the Company for the use of the _Salamander_, the account having been liquidated in Bombay; from which it would appear that he had been paid twice for his ship. The accounts of those days must have been maddening affairs owing to the multiplicity of coinages. Pounds sterling, Pagodas, Rupees, Fanams, Xeraphims, Laris, Juttals, Matte, Reis, Rials, Cruzadoes, Sequins, Pice, Budgerooks, and Dollars of different values were all brought into the official accounts. In 1718, the confusion was increased by a tin coinage called Deccanees.[1] The conversion of sums from one coinage to another, many of them of unstable value, must have been an everlasting trouble.[2] In August we find Harvey writing to the Council to say that he had at Tellicherry a chest of pillar dollars weighing 289 lbs. 3 ozs. 10 dwts., which he requests may be paid into the Company’s cash there, and in return a chest of dollars may be given him at Bombay.
His young wife doubtless assisted him in his complicated accounts, and gained some knowledge of local trade. It must have been a wonderful delight to her to escape from the dulness of Carwar and mix in the larger society of Bombay, and she must have realized with sadness the mistake she had made in marrying a deformed man old enough to be her grandfather, at the solicitation of her parents. She made, at this time, two acquaintances that were destined to have considerable influence on her future life. On the 5th August, the _Godolphin_, twenty-one days from Mocha, approached Bombay, but being unable to make the harbour before nightfall, anchored outside; a proceeding that would appear, even to a landsman, absolutely suicidal in the middle of the monsoon, but was probably due to fear of pirates.[3]
That night heavy weather came on, the ship’s cable parted, and the _Godolphin_ became a total wreck at the foot of Malabar Hill. Apparently, all the Englishmen on board were saved, among them the second supercargo, a young man named Thomas Chown, who lost all his possessions. There was also in Bombay, at the time, a young factor, William Gyfford, who had come to India, six years before, as a writer, at the age of seventeen. We shall hear of both of them again.
In October, came news of the death of Mr. Robert Mence at Carwar. ‘Tho his time there was so small wee find he had misapplyed 1700 and odd pagodas to his own use,’ the Bombay Council reported to the Directors in London. In his place was appointed Mr. Miles Fleetwood, who was then in Bombay awaiting a passage to the Persian Gulf where he had been appointed a factor. With him returned to Carwar, Harvey and his wife, to adjust some depending accounts with the country people there.
We get an account of Carwar thirty years before this, from Alexander Hamilton, which shows that there was plenty of sport near at hand for those who were inclined for it, and it is interesting to find that the Englishmen who now travel in search of big game had their predecessors in those days–
“This Country is so famous for hunting, that two Gentlemen of Distinction, viz: Mr. _Lembourg_ of the House of _Lembourg_ in _Germany_, and Mr. _Goring_, a Son of my Lord _Goring’s_ in _England_, went _incognito_ in one of the _East India_ Company’s Ships, for India. They left Letters directed for their Relations, in the Hands of a Friend of theirs, to be delivered two or three Months after their Departure, so that Letters of Credit followed them by the next Year’s Shipping, with Orders from the _East India_ Company to the Chiefs of the Factories, wherever they should happen to come, to treat them according to their Quality. They spent three Years at _Carwar, viz:_ from Anno 1678 to 1681, then being tired with that Sort of Pleasure, they both took Passage on board a Company’s Ship for _England_, but Mr. _Goring_ died four days after the Ship’s Departure from _Carwar_, and lies buried on the Island of _St. Mary_, about four Leagues from the Shore, off _Batacola_, and Mr. _Lembourg_ returned safe to _England_.”
Four months after his return to Carwar, Harvey died, leaving his girl-wife a widow. She remained at Carwar, engaged in winding up the trading affairs of her late husband, and asserting her claim to his estate, which had been taken possession of by the Company’s officials, according to custom. According to the practice of the day, every merchant and factor had private trading accounts which were mixed up with the Company’s accounts, so that on retirement they were not allowed to leave the country till the Company’s claims were settled. In case of death, their estates were taken possession of for the same reason. Two months later, Mr. Thomas Chown, the late supercargo of the _Godolphin_, was sent down to Carwar as a factor, and, a few weeks after his arrival, he married the young widow. Application was now made to the Council at Bombay for the effects of her late husband to be made over to her, and orders were sent to Carwar for the late Mr. Harvey’s effects to be sold, and one-third of the estate to be paid to Mrs. Chown, provided Harvey had died intestate. The Carwar factory chief replied that the effects had realized 13,146 rupees 1 fanam and 12 budgerooks; that Harvey had left a will dated the 8th April, 1708, and that therefore nothing had been paid to Mrs. Chown. It was necessary for Chown and his wife to go to Bombay and prosecute their claims in person. The short voyage was destined to be an eventful one.
On the 3rd November (1712), Chown and his wife left Carwar in the _Anne_ ketch, having a cargo of pepper and wax on board, to urge their claim to the late Mr. Harvey’s estate. The coast swarmed with pirate craft, among which those of Conajee Angria were the most numerous and the most formidable. It was usual, therefore, for every cargo of any value to be convoyed by an armed vessel. To protect the _Anne_, Governor Aislabie’s armed yacht had been sent down, and a small frigate, the _Defiance_,[4] was also with them. The day after leaving Carwar they were swooped down upon by four of Angria’s ships, and a hot action ensued. The brunt of it fell on the Governor’s yacht, which had both masts shot away and was forced to surrender. The ketch tried to escape back to Carwar, but was laid aboard by two grabs, and had to surrender when she had expended most of her ammunition. In the action, Chown had his arm torn off by a cannon-shot, and expired in his wife’s arms. So again, in little more than three years from her first marriage, Mrs. Chown was left a widow when she could hardly have been eighteen. The captured vessels and the prisoners were carried off; the crews to Gheriah and the European prisoners to Colaba. To make matters worse for the poor widow, she was expecting the birth of an infant.
Great was the excitement in Bombay when the news of Mrs. Chown’s capture arrived. The Governor was away at Surat, and all that could be done was to address Angria; so a letter was written to him ‘in English and Gentues,’ asking for the captives and all papers to be restored, and some medicine was sent for the wounded. Just at this time also news was received of the Indiaman _New George_ having been taken by the French near Don Mascharenas.[5] Sir John Gayer, who was on board, finished his troubled career in the East by being killed in the action.
After keeping them a month in captivity Angria sent back his prisoners, except the captains ransom. In acknowledgment of kindness shown to the released prisoners by the Seedee, that chief was presented with a pair of Musquetoons, a fowling-piece, and five yards of ’embost’ cloth. But in the Governor’s absence the Council could do nothing about payment of ransom. When he returned, negotiations went on through the European prisoners in Colaba. Angria being sincerely anxious for peace with the English while he was in arms against his own chief, terms were arranged, and Lieutenant Mackintosh was despatched to Colaba with Rs.30,000 as ransom for the Europeans, and the sealed convention. On the 22nd February (1713), he returned, bringing with him Mrs. Chown and the other captives, the captured goods, and the _Anne_ ketch, but the yacht was too badly damaged to put to sea. According to Downing, Mrs. Chown was in such a state that Mackintosh, ‘was obliged to wrap his clothes about her to cover her nakedness.’ But her courage had never forsaken her; ‘she most courageously withstood all Angria’s base usage, and endured his insults beyond expectation.’ Shortly afterwards she was delivered of a son. Out of her first husband’s estate one thousand rupees were granted her for present necessities, with an allowance of one hundred xeraphims a month.
Very shortly afterwards we find her being married for the third time, to young William Gyfford, with the Governor’s approval. According to the statute law of Bombay, no marriage was binding, except it had the Governor’s consent; Hamilton tells us how on one occasion a factor, Mr. Solomon Loyd, having married a young lady without the Governor’s consent, Sir John Gayer dissolved the marriage, and married the lady again to his own son. In October, two years and a half after her first husband’s death, seven thousand four hundred and ninety-two rupees, being one-third of his estate, were paid over to her. It is carefully recorded that neither of her deceased husbands had left wills, though the existence of Harvey’s will had been very precisely recorded by the Council, fifteen months before. Young Gyfford, who was then twenty-five, appears to have been a favourite with the Governor, and had lately been given charge of the Bombay Market. Eighteen months after his marriage, we find William Gyfford appointed supercargo of the _Catherine_, trading to Mocha. The office was a most desirable one for a young factor. It afforded him opportunities for private trade at first hand, instead of through agents, that in the mind of an adventurous young man quite outbalanced the perils of the sea.
In spite of small salaries, a goodly appearance was made by the Company’s servants in public. At the public table, where they sat in order of seniority, all dishes, plates, and drinking-cups were of pure silver or fine china. English, Portuguese, and Indian cooks were employed, so that every taste might be suited. Before and after meals silver basins were taken round for each person to wash his hands. Arrack, Shiraz wine, and ‘pale punch,’ a compound of brandy, rose-water, lime-juice, and sugar, were drunk, and, at times, we hear of Canary wine. In 1717, Boone abolished the public table, and diet money was given in its place. Boone reported to the Directors that, by the change, a saving of nearly Rs.16,000 a year was effected, and the Company’s servants better satisfied. On festival days the Governor would invite the whole factory to a picnic in some garden outside the city. On such an occasion, a procession was formed, headed by the Governor and his lady, in palanquins. Two large ensigns were carried before them, followed by a number of led horses in gorgeous trappings of velvet and silver. Following the Governor came the Captain of the Peons on horseback, with forty or fifty armed men on foot. Next followed the members of the Council, the merchants, factors, and writers, in order of seniority, in fine bullock coaches or riding on horses, all maintained at the Company’s expense. At the Dewallee festival every servant of the Company, from the Governor to the youngest writer, received a ‘peshcush’ from the brokers and bunyas, which to the younger men were of much importance; as they depended on these gifts to procure their annual supply of clothes.
Of the country, away from the coast, they were profoundly ignorant. The far-off King of ‘Dilly’ was little more than a name to them, and they were more concerned in the doings of petty potentates with strange names, such as the Zamorin, the Zammelook, the Kempsant, and the Sow Rajah, who have long disappeared. They talked of the people as Gentoos, Moors, Mallwans, Sanganians, Gennims, Warrels, Coulis, Patanners, etc., and the number of political, racial, religious, and linguistic divisions presented to their view must have been especially puzzling. Owing to the numerous languages necessary to carry on trade on the Malabar coast, they were forced to depend almost entirely on untrustworthy Portuguese interpreters. Their difficulties in this respect are dwelt on by Hamilton–
“One great Misfortune that attends us _European_ Travellers in _India_ is, the Want of Knowledge of their Languages, and they being so numerous, that one intire Century would be too short a Time to learn them all: I could not find one in Ten thousand that could speak intelligible _English_, tho’ along the Sea coast the _Portuguese_ have left a Vestige of their Language, tho’ much corrupted, yet it is the Language that most _Europeans_ learn first, to qualify them for a general Converse with one another, as well as with the different Inhabitants of _India_.”
After two years’ work, as supercargo, on different ships, Gyfford was sent down to Anjengo as chief of the factory. Anjengo was at that time one of the most important factories on the Malabar coast, though of comparatively recent establishment. It was first frequented by the Portuguese, who, after a time, were ousted by the Dutch. It belonged to the Rani of Attinga, who owned a small principality extending along sixty miles of coast. In 1688,[6] Rani Ashure invited the English to form a trading settlement in her dominions, and two were formed, at Vittoor (Returah) and Villanjuen (Brinjone). But for some reason, she became dissatisfied with the English, and the hostility of the Dutch, in spite of the alliance between the two countries in Europe, caused great trouble. In November, 1693, John Brabourne was sent to Attinga, where, by his successful diplomacy, the sandy spit of Anjengo was granted to the English, as a site for a fort, together with the monopoly of the pepper trade of Attinga. Soon, the Dutch protests and intrigues aroused the Rani’s suspicions. She ordered Brabourne to stop his building. Finding him deaf to her orders, she first tried to starve out the English by cutting off supplies, but as the sea was open, the land blockade proved ineffectual. She then sent an armed force against Brabourne, which was speedily put to flight, and terms of peace were arranged. The fort was completed, and a most flourishing trade in pepper and cotton cloth speedily grew up. Anjengo became the first port of call for outward-bound ships. The Anjengo fortification appeared so formidable to the Dutch, that they closed their factories at Cochin, Quilon, and Cannanore.[7] About 1700, Rani Ashure died, and the little principality fell into disorder. It was a tradition that only women should reign, and Ashure’s successor was unable to make her authority felt. The Poolas, who governed the four districts into which the principality was divided, intrigued for power against each other, and before long the Rani became a puppet in the hands of Poola Venjamutta. In 1704, a new Governor, Sir Nicholas Waite, was appointed to Bombay. For some reason he left Brabourne without instructions or money for investment.[8] Their small salaries and their private trading seem to have made the Company’s servants very independent. We constantly find them throwing up the service and going away, without waiting for permission. Brabourne went off to Madras, after delivering over the fort to Mr. Simon Cowse, who had long resided there, apparently as a private merchant, and who proved, as times went, a good servant to the Company. The Company’s service in those days was full of intrigue and personal quarrels. The merchant second in rank at Anjengo, John Kyffin, intrigued against Cowse so successfully, that Cowse was deposed, and Kyffin was made chief of the settlement. He appears to have been a thoroughly unscrupulous man. To enrich himself in his private pepper trade ‘he stuck at nothing.’ He took part in the local intrigues of Attinga, from which his predecessors had held aloof, played into the hands of Poola Venjamutta, quarrelled with the other local officials, and behaved with great violence whenever there was the slightest hitch in his trade. Kyffin’s want of loyalty to the Company was still more clearly shown by his friendly dealings with their rivals, a proceeding that was strictly forbidden.
In June, 1717, Kyffin made known to the Council at Bombay his wish to retire, and William Gyfford was appointed to succeed him as soon as the monsoon would permit. So, in due course of time, Gyfford and his wife went to Anjengo; but, in spite of his resignation, Kyffin stuck to his office, and evidently viewed Gyfford with unfriendly eyes. In the following April, intelligence reached the Council at Bombay that Kyffin had had dealings with the Ostenders, and had been ‘very assisting’ to them; so, a peremptory order went down from Bombay, dismissing him from the Company’s service, if the report of his assisting the Ostenders was true. If the report was not true, no change was to be made. A commission to Gyfford to assume the chiefship was sent at the same time. Interlopers and Ostenders, he was told, were not to receive even provisions or water. So Kyffin departed, and Gyfford reigned at Anjengo in his stead.
But the follies of Kyffin had roused a feeling against the English that was not likely to be allayed by Gyfford, who exceeded Kyffin in dishonesty and imprudence. He threw himself into the pepper trade, using the Company’s money for his own purposes, and joined hands with the Portuguese interpreter, Ignatio Malheiros, who appears to have been a consummate rogue. Before long, religious feeling was aroused by the interpreter obtaining possession of some pagoda land in a money-lending transaction. Gyfford also aroused resentment, by trying to cheat the native traders over the price of pepper, by showing fictitious entries in the factory books, and by the use of false weights. The only thing wanting for an explosion was the alienation of the Mahommedan section, which, before long, was produced by chance and by Gyfford’s folly. It happened that some Mahommedan traders came to the fort to transact business with Cowse, who had resumed business as a private merchant; but he was not at leisure, so they went to the interpreter’s house, to sit down and wait. While there, the interpreter’s ‘strumpet’ threw some _hooli_ powder on one of the merchants. Stung by the insult, the man drew his sword, wounded the woman, and would have killed her, if he and his companions had not been disarmed. Gyfford, when they were brought before him, allowed himself to be influenced by the interpreter, and ordered them to be turned out of the fort, after their swords had been insultingly broken over their heads. The people of Attinga flew to arms, and threatened the fort. For some months there were constant skirmishes. The English had no difficulty in defeating all attacks, but, none the less, trade was brought to a standstill; so Mr. Walter Brown was sent down from Bombay to put matters straight. Poola Venjamutta, who had all the time kept himself in the background, was quite ready to help an accommodation, as open force had proved useless. Things having quieted down, Gyfford, ‘flushed with the hopes of having Peace and Pepper,’ devoted himself to trade. He had at this time a brigantine called the _Thomas_, commanded by his wife’s brother, Thomas Cooke, doing his private trade along the coast. The year 1720 passed quietly. Force having proved unavailing, the Attinga people dissembled their anger, and waited for an opportunity to revenge themselves. So well was the popular feeling against the English concealed, that Cowse, with his long experience and knowledge of the language, had no suspicions.
There had been an old custom, since the establishment of the factory, of giving presents yearly to the Rani, in the name of the Company; but for some years the practice had fallen into abeyance. Gyfford, wishing to ingratiate himself with the authorities, resolved on reviving the custom, and to do so in the most ceremonious way, by going himself with the presents for seven years. Accordingly, on the 11th April, 1721, accompanied by all the merchants and factors, and taking all his best men, about one hundred and twenty in number, and the same number of coolies, Gyfford started for Attinga, four miles up the river. Here they were received by an enormous crowd of people, who gave them a friendly reception. The details of what followed are imperfectly recorded, and much is left to conjecture, but Gyfford’s foolish over-confidence is sufficiently apparent. In spite of their brave display, his men carried no ammunition. Poola Venjamutta was not to be seen. They were told he was drunk, and they must wait till he was fit to receive them. He was apparently playing a double part, but the blame for what followed was afterwards laid on his rival, Poola Cadamon Pillay. Cowse’s suspicions were aroused, and he advised an immediate return to Anjengo, but Gyfford refused to take the advice. He is said to have struck Cowse, and to have threatened with imprisonment. The Rani also sent a message, advising a return to Anjengo. It was getting late, and to extricate himself from the crowd, Gyfford allowed the whole party to be inveigled into a small enclosure. To show his goodwill to the crowd, he ordered his men to fire a salvo, and then he found that the ammunition carried by the coolies had been secured, and they were defenceless. In this hopeless position, he managed to entrust a letter addressed to the storekeeper at Anjengo, to the hands of a friendly native. It reached Anjengo at one o’clock next day, and ran as follows:–
“Captain Sewell. We are treacherously dealt with here, therefore keep a very good look-out of any designs on you. Have a good look to your two Trankers,[9] We hope to be with you to-night. Take care and don’t frighten the women; we are in no great danger. Give the bearer a Chequeen.”[10]
But none of the English were to see Anjengo again. That night, or the next morning, a sudden attack was made, the crowd surged in on the soldiers, overwhelmed them, and cut them to pieces. The principal English were seized and reserved for a more cruel death. In the confusion, Cowse, who was a favourite among the natives, managed to disguise himself, got through the crowd, and sought to reach Anjengo by a little frequented path. By bad luck he was overtaken by a Mahommedan merchant who owed him money. Cowse offered to acquit him of the debt, but to no purpose. He was mercilessly killed, and thus the debt was settled. ‘Stone dead hath no fellow,’ as the chronicler of his death says. The rest of the English were tortured to death, Gyfford and the interpreter being reserved for the worst barbarities. Ignatio Malheiros was gradually dismembered, while Gyfford had his tongue torn out, was nailed to a log of wood, and sent floating down the river.
It is easy to picture to one’s self the consternation in Anjengo, that 12th April, when, soon after midday, Gyfford’s hasty note was received, and the same evening, when a score of wounded men (topasses) straggled in to confirm the worst fears; ‘all miserably wounded, some with 12 or 13 cutts and arrows in their bodyes to a lower number, but none without any.’ Gyfford had taken away all the able men with him, leaving in the fort only ‘the dregs,’ old men, boys, and pensioners, less than forty in number. At their head were Robert Sewell, who describes himself as Storekeeper, Captain and Adjutant by order of Governor Boone; Lieutenant Peter Lapthorne, Ensign Thomas Davis, and Gunner Samuel Ince. The first three of them were absolutely useless, and Gunner Ince, whose name deserves to be remembered, was the only one of the four who rose to the situation. His first care was for the three English women, whose husbands had just been killed. By good fortune there happened to be in the road a small country ship that had brought a consignment of cowries from the Maldives. Mrs. Gyfford, for the third time a widow, Mrs. Cowse with four children, and Mrs. Burton with two, were hastily put on board, and sailed at once for Madras. No mention appears of Mrs. Gyfford having any children with her, but she carried off the factory records and papers, and what money she could lay her hands on. She was no longer the confiding girl, who had given herself to Governor Harvey eleven years before. She had learned something of the world she lived in, and intended to take care of herself as well as she could. She even tried to carry off Peter Lapthorne with her, but Sewell intervened and prevented it. So giving him hasty directions to act as her agent, she passed through the dangerous Anjengo surf and got on board. A letter to her from Lapthorne, written a few weeks later, relates that the only property he could find belonging to her were ‘two wiggs and a bolster and some ophium’ in the warehouse.
Having got rid of the white women, Sewell and his companions set to work to hold the fort against the attack that was inevitable. From the old records we get an idea of what the fort was like. As designed by Brabourne, it covered a square of about sixty yards each way, but this did not include the two Trankers, palisaded out-works, alluded to in Gyfford’s note. Ten years before, the attention of the Council at Bombay had been drawn to the bad condition of the
“Fort house, being no more then timber covered with palm leaves (cajanns) so very dangerous taking fire,” and the chief of the factory was ordered to build “a small compact house of brick with a Hall, and conveniencys for half a dozen Company’s servants. And being advised that for want of a necessary house in the Fort, they keep the Fort gate open all night for the guard going out and in, which irregularity may prove of so pernicious consequence as the loss of that garrison, especially in a country where they are surrounded with such treacherous people as the Natives and the Dutch,” it was ordered that a “necessary house over the Fort walls” should be built, and the gates kept locked after 8 o’clock at night.
How far these orders had been carried out does not appear; but the Company’s goods were still kept in a warehouse outside the walls: some of the Company’s servants also had houses outside, and the palm-leaf roofs were still there. For garrison they only had about thirty-five boys and pensioners, ‘whereof not twenty fit to hold a firelock,’ and, for want of a sufficient garrison, it was necessary to withdraw from the Trankers, which were thought to be so important for the safety of the place. Desperate as was the outlook. Gunner Ince exerted himself like a man, animating everybody by his example. By his exertions, seven hundred bags of rice, with salt fish for a month, and the Company’s treasure were got in from the warehouse, and an urgent appeal was sent to Calicut. The surgeon had been killed with Gyfford; they had no smith or carpenter or tools, except a few hatchets, and the Attinga people swarming into Anjengo burned and plundered the settlement, forcing a crowd of women and children to take refuge in the small fort. Though no concerted attack was made at first, the assailants tried with fire arrows to set fire to the palm-leaf roofs, which had to be dismantled; and all through the siege, which lasted six months, the sufferings of the garrison were increased by the burning rays of a tropical sun or the torrential rains of the monsoon.
On the 25th April, they were cheered by the arrival of two small English ships from Cochin, where the intelligence of the disaster had reached; and received a small reinforcement of seven men with a consignment of provisions. A message of condolence also had come from the Rajah of Quilon, who offered to receive the women and children, so one hundred and fifty native women and children, widows and orphans of the slain, were sent off. On the 1st May, an ensign and fifty-one men, collected by Mr. Adams from Calicut and Tellicherry, joined the garrison, and gave some relief from the constant sentry duty that was necessary. The enemy, meanwhile, had contented themselves with harassing the garrison by firing long shots at them; but it was rumoured that the Rajah of Travancore was sending troops, and then they would have to sustain a serious attack. Gunner Ince, on whom the whole weight of the defence rested, let it be known that in the last extremity he would blow up the magazine. It is cheering to find that there was at least one man who was prepared to do his duty. Sewell and Lapthorne got drunk, and joined with the warehouseman, a Portuguese named Rodriguez, in plundering the Company’s warehouse and sending goods away to Quilon; the soldiers followed the example, and plundered the rooms inside the fort, while the late interpreter’s family were allowed to send away, to Quilon, effects to the value of one hundred thousand fanams, though it was known that the Company had a claim on him for over two-thirds of the amount, on account of money advanced to him. Davis was dying of a lingering illness, to which he succumbed in the beginning of July.
On the 24th June, a vigorous attack was made on the fort from three sides at once. On one side the enemy had thrown up an entrenchment, and on the river side they had effected a lodgment in Cowse’s house, a substantial building close to the wall of the fort. This would have soon made the fort untenable, so a small party was sent to dislodge the occupants. At first they were repulsed, but a second attempt was successful. Marching up to the windows, ‘where they were as thick as bees,’ they threw hand grenades into the house, which was hurriedly evacuated; numbers of the enemy leaping into the river, where some of them were drowned. Ince then bombarded them out of the entrenchment, and the attack came to an end. Several of the garrison were wounded, but none killed; but what chiefly mortified them was that the arms of the men slain with Gyfford were used against them. After this the land blockade lingered on, but no very serious attack seems to have been made. A second reinforcement of thirty men was sent down by Adams from Calicut, and the Rani and Poola Venjamutta sent ‘refreshments,’ and promised that the attacks of their rebellious subjects should cease. The Rani also wrote to the Madras Council, and sent a deputation of one hundred Brahmins to Tellicherry, to express her horror of the barbarities committed by her people, and her willingness to join the Company’s forces in punishing the guilty.
Intelligence of the disaster at Anjengo did not reach Bombay till the beginning of July. The monsoon was in full force, and no assistance could be sent till it was over. Men and supplies were gathered in from Carwar and Surat, and, on the 17th October, Mr. Midford, with three hundred men, reached Anjengo. His report on the state of affairs he found there makes it a matter of surprise that the place had not fallen. The safety of the fort had been entirely due to Gunner Ince. Sewell’s behaviour was that of a fool or a madman. Together with Lapthorne, he had set the example of plundering the Company, and their men had done as much damage as the enemy. Sewell, as storekeeper, had no books, and said he never had kept any. Lapthorne had retained two months’ pay, due to the men killed with Gyfford, and asserted his right to it. Much of the Company’s treasure was unaccounted for, and Mrs. Gyfford had carried off the books. Midford sent Sewell and Lapthorne under arrest to Bombay, where they were let off with a scolding, and proceeded to restore order. The Rani and Venjamutta were friendly, but told him he must take his own vengeance on the Nairs for their inhuman action. So he commenced a series of raids into the surrounding country, which reduced it to some sort of subjection. Soon there came an order for most of his men to be sent back to Bombay, where warlike measures against Angria were on foot. A cessation of arms was patched up, and Midford installed himself as chief.
He proved to be no honester than his predecessors. He monopolized the pepper trade on his own private account, making himself advances out of the Company’s treasury. In less than a year he was dead, but before his death Alexander Orme,[11] then a private merchant on the coast, was sent to Anjengo as chief of the factory, at the special request of the Rani. Before long, Orme had to report to the Council that there were due to the Company, from Gyfford’s estate, 559,421 fanams, and that 140,260 gold fanams had disappeared during Midford’s chiefship which could not be accounted for. Midford had also drawn pay for twenty European soldiers who did not exist. The Council ascribed Midford’s misdeeds to his ‘unaccountable stupidity,’ and the Directors answered that ‘the charges against Mr. Midford are very grievous ones.’
In September, 1722, the Council received from Orme a copy of the treaty he had made with the Rani. The following were the chief provisions. The ringleaders in the attack on Gyfford were to be punished and their estates confiscated; all Christians living between Edawa and Brinjone were to be brought under the Company’s protection; the Rani was to reimburse the Company for all expenses caused by the attack on Anjengo; the Company was to have exclusive right to the pepper trade, and were empowered to build factories in the Rani’s dominions wherever they pleased; the Rani was to return all arms taken in the late out-break, and to furnish timber to rebuild the church that had been burned. The treaty was guaranteed by the Rani’s brother, the Rajah of Chinganatta. By the Directors it was received with mixed feelings.
“Last years Letters took some notice about the Affair at Anjengo, We had not then the Account of the Treaty Mr. Orme made with the Queen of Attinga and King of Chinganetty, We are sorry to find it included in the Treaty, That We must supply Souldiers to carry on the War against her rebellious Subjects for which she is to pay the Charge, and in the Interim to pawn Lands for answering principal and Interest, because it will certainly involve us in a trouble if We succeed, and more if We dont, add to this, the variable temper and poverty of those people may incline them to refuse to refund, and in time they may redemand and force back their Lands, If the Articles are fully comply’d with they seem to be for the Companys benefit, But We fear we shall have the least Share of it, To what purpose is her Grant to Us of all the Pepper in her Countrey, If Our unfaithful people there get all for themselves and none for Us, as you Charge Mr. Midford with doing, We dont want an Extent of Lands, if We could but (obtain) pepper cheap and sufficient, And what benefit will it be to Us, to have the liberty of building Factorys, which in Event is only a Liberty to lavish away Our Money, and turning Quick Stock into dead, unless you could be morally certain it would be worth while to get a small residence in the King of Chengenattys Countrey, where it is said the Dutch make great Investments of Peice Goods cheaper and better, than they used to do at Negapatam, and therefore have deserted it, We consider further, if such Goods as are proper for Our Europe Market were procurable, how comes it We have had none hitherto, It is true We have had Cloth from Anjengo good of the Sorts, but Invoiced so dear that We forbad sending more unless to be purchased at the prices We limited, since then We have heard no more about it, But we are told it is Traded in to Bombay to some profit, What profit will the putting the Christians between Edova and Brinjohn under Our Jurisdiction yeild to Us, and what Security can you have that the King of Chenganattys Guarranteeship will answer and give full satisfaction, These are what appear to Us worthy your serious and deliberate consideration to be well thought of before you come to a determination What Orders to give, We find by your Consultations in January 1722/23 You had sent down Treasure to Anjengo, to enable the Chief to levy Souldiers to revenge the Murder of the English, since you could not spare Forces which as there exprest is absolutely necessary, for else the Natives will have but contemptible thoughts of the English, who will then loose their Esteem, had We ever found a benefit by their Esteem, something might be said for it, But in the present Case We fear We shall buy Our Esteem at too dear a Rate, We should be extreamly glad to be mistaken and to find in effect what your 120th Paragraph says in words, that you hope to make it a Valuable Settlement.”[12]
We left Mrs. Gyfford flying from Anjengo in a small country ship, with two other English women and six children. The misery that the three poor widows must have endured for a month, crowded into a small country boat, without preparation or ordinary comforts, at the hottest time of the year, must have been extreme. On the 17th May, the fugitives landed at Madras. The Council there granted them a compassionate allowance, of which Mrs. Gyfford refused to avail herself. After a time she made her way to Calcutta and joined her father’s family, leaving, with an agent in Madras, the Anjengo factory books, which, after repeated demands, were surrendered to the Madras Council. From Madras to Calcutta she was pursued by the demands of the Bombay Council. The books had been restored at Madras, and the Bengal Government extracted Rs.7312 from her; but, in reply to further demands, she would only answer that she was ‘an unfortunate widow, struggling with adversity, whose husband had met his death serving our Honourable Masters,’ and that it was shameful to demand money from her, when she herself was owed large sums by the Company. She could only refer them to her agents at Madras and Anjengo. Still, she was in a considerable dilemma, as she could not get out of the country without a full settlement of accounts, and, if resistance was carried too far, her father might be made to suffer.
At this juncture an unexpected way of escape presented itself. Twelve months before this, Commodore Matthews had arrived in Bombay with a squadron of the Royal Navy for the suppression of piracy. But Matthews was more bent on enriching himself by trade than on harrying pirates; and, as his own trading was inimical to the Company’s interests and certain to set the Company’s servants against him, he had from the first assumed a position of hostility to the Company. Every opportunity was seized of damaging the Company’s interests and lowering the Company’s authority. All who were in the Company’s bad books found a patron and protector in Matthews; so, when in September, 1722, the flagship appeared in the Hooghly, Mrs. Gyfford was quick to grasp the opportunity, that presented itself, of bidding defiance to her pursuers. She at once opened communication with Matthews, and besought his protection. She was an unfortunate widow who had lost two husbands by violent deaths in the Company’s service, and, now that she was unprotected, the Company was trying to wring from her the little money she had brought away from Anjengo, while she herself had large claims against the Company. This was quite enough for Matthews. Here was a young and pretty woman with a good sum of money, shamefully persecuted by the Company, to which he felt nothing but hostility. At one stroke he could gratify his dislike of the Company and succour a badly treated young woman, whose hard fate should arouse sympathy in every generous mind; so the Bengal Council were told that Mrs. Gyfford was now under the protection of the Crown, and was not to be molested.
In the hope of securing some portion of the money due to the Company, the Council attached the brigantine _Thomas_, commanded by Mrs. Gyfford’s brother. A letter was at once forthcoming from Matthews to say that he had purchased Mrs. Gyfford’s interest in the vessel. Finding themselves thus forestalled, the Council begged Matthews not to take her away from Calcutta till she had furnished security for the Company’s claim of Rs.50,000, Matthews replied that he should take her to Bombay, where she would answer anything that might be alleged against her. As soon as he had completed his trading in Bengal, Mrs. Gyfford, with her effects, embarked on board the _Lyon_, and so returned to Bombay. There, in January, 1723, we find her living under Matthews’ roof, much to the wrath of the Council and the scandal of her former acquaintances. By this time, the Council had received from Anjengo more precise details as to what was due to the Company from Gyfford’s estate. All the cowries, pepper, and cloth that were said to belong to Gyfford had been bought with the Company’s money, and the Company’s claim against his estate was nearly L9000. A stringent order was sent to Mrs. Gyfford, forbidding her to leave Bombay till the claim was settled. Matthews at once put her on board the _Lyon_ again, and there she remained; not venturing to set foot on shore, lest the Council should lay hands on her.
By the end of the year, Matthews was ready to return to England. Intent to the last on trade, he touched at Carwar, Tellicherry, and St. David’s, and, in Mrs. Gyfford’s interests, a visit was also paid Anjengo, to try and recover some of the property she claimed to have left there. She was not going to be put off with Lapthorne’s ‘two wiggs and a bolster.’ In July (1724) the _Lyon_ reached Portsmouth, and was put out of commission.
At first the Directors appear to have paid little attention to Mrs. Gyfford, perhaps not thinking her worth powder and shot. Their principal anger was directed against Matthews, against whom they obtained a decree in the Court of Chancery for unlawful trading. But Mrs. Gyfford would not keep silence. Perhaps she really believed in the justice of her claims. She bombarded the Directors with petitions, till at last, two years after her arrival in England, they tardily awoke to the fact that they themselves had substantial claims against her. They offered to submit the claims to arbitration, to which Mrs. Gyfford consented; but as she still refrained from coming to close quarters, they filed a suit against her in the Court of Chancery, nearly four years after her arrival in England. Mrs. Gyfford promptly replied with a counter-suit, in which, among other things, she claimed L10,000 for presents taken by Gyfford to the Rani of Attinga on that fatal 11th April, seven years before. Four years later, she was still deep in litigation, having quarrelled with her agent, Peter Lapthorne, among others. It is to be hoped, for her sake, that Chancery suits were cheaper than they are now. Here we may say good-bye to her. For those who are curious in such matters, a search among the Chancery records will probably reveal the result, but it is improbable that the Company reaped any benefit from their action. And so she passes from the scene, a curious example of the vicissitudes to which Englishwomen in India were exposed, two hundred years ago.
[1] They were issued at the rate of sixty-five for a rupee; before long, their value was reduced to seventy-two for a rupee, at which price they were much in request, and the Governor reported that he expected to coin sixteen tons of them yearly.
[2] In October, 1713, the Bombay Council decided that the Xeraphims, being much debased with copper and other alloy, their recognized value should in future be half a rupee, or two Laris and forty reis. The Xeraphim was a Goa coin, originally worth less than one and sixpence. The name, according to Yule, was a corruption of the Arabic _ashrafi_.
[3] The year before, the _Godolphin_ had escaped from an Angrian fleet, after a two days’ encounter within sight of Bombay.
[4] The records are silent as to the _Defiance_, but it is mentioned by Downing, who says that, instead of doing his duty, the captain made the best of his way to Bombay. The story seems to be borne out by a faded letter from the captain to the Directors, appealing against dismissal from the service.
[5] The name is now given to the group of islands to which Bourbon and Mauritius belong. At that time it generally applied to Bourbon, and especially to St. Paul’s Bay, which was a favourite place of call for ships to water at.
[6] According to some accounts, the first settlement was a few years earlier, but the dates of the early travellers are very unreliable. Hamilton says that a present was sent in 1685 to the Queen; “A beautiful young English gentleman had the honour to present it to her black Majesty; and as soon as the Queen saw him, she fell in love with him, and next day made proposals of marriage to him, but he modestly refused so great an honour however, to please her Majesty, he staid at court a month or two and satisfied her so well that when he left her court she made him some presents.”
[7] Bruce.
[8] This is the reason given by Bruce for Brabourne leaving Anjengo, but the death of Brabourne’s wife, in 1704, probably had a good deal to do with his leaving the place. Her tomb still exists.
[9] Tranqueira (Port.), a palisade.
[10] Meaning sequin: the origin of the modern Anglo-Indianism, chick.’
[11] The father of Robert Orme, the historian, who was born at Anjengo.
[12] Letter from Court of Directors to Bombay, 25th March, 1724.
INDEX
A
Abdul Guffoor, his ship seized off Surat; his ship, _Futteh Mahmood_, taken by Every; incites the natives of Surat against the English. Adams, Mr., sends relief to Anjengo.
_Addison_, the, East Indiaman, commanded by Boone, against Kennery; consultation on board.
_Adventure_ galley, the, fitted out as a privateer; commanded by Kidd;
size and defence of;
anchors off Johanna;
anchors at Perim;
flies English colours at Carwar;
sails to Calicut;
chased by two Portuguese vessels;
chases the _Sedgwick_;
her crew divide the spoil of the _Quedah Merchant_; becomes unseaworthy;
her owners not inculpated by Kidd. _Advice_, the, King’s ship, under Warren. Affleck, Mr., owner of the _London_.
Aislabie, William, President of Bombay, his negotiations with Angria; sails for England;
begins building the church at Bombay; his armed yacht taken by Angria.
_Algerine_, the.
_See Soldado_, the.
Alibagh fort, unsuccessfully assaulted by the English and Portuguese; taken by Sumbhajee Angria.
_Anglesea_ the, man-of-war.
_Anglesea_ the, French man-of-war, attacks the _Anson_; Angria, Conajee (Kanhojee), pirate, rise of the power of; succeeds to the command of the Mahratta navy; styled Darya-S ranga;
destroys the _Bombay_ frigate;
fortifies Kennery;
attacks the _Godolphin_;
concludes a treaty with the Mahrattas; becomes an independent chief;
captures the _Anne_ ketch;
his ships attack the _Somers_ and _Grantham_; captures a Portuguese ‘armado,’;
opens negotiations with the English; articles of agreement delivered to, by Lieutenant Mackintosh; his territory a refuge for desperadoes; defies Governor Boone;
fruitless attack made on his fort at Gheriah; offers terms to Governor Boone;
negotiates with the English through Sahoojee; his ships burnt in Gheriah harbour;
makes a treaty with the Portuguese; fits out an expedition against Carwar;
his commodore killed and ship taken; his power weakened;
his treatment of Curgenven;
his death.
Angria, Mannajee, illegitimate son of Conajee Angria; quarrels with Sumbhajee;
takes Colaba;
imprisons Yessajee;
his relations with the English;
captures Caranjah;
seizes Bombay ships;
Captain Inchbird sent to punish;
his territories attacked by Sumbhajee; increase of power of.
Angria, Sakhajee, son of Conajee Angria; establishes himself at Colaba;
dies.
Angria, Sumbhajee, son of Conajee Angria; quarrels with Mannajee;
his gallivata captured;
captures the _Derby_;
opens negotiations with Bombay;
his fleet chased by Bagwell;
takes the _Jupiter_;
attacks Mannajee’s territories;
his camp bombarded by Inchbird;
retreats from Colaba;
makes overtures of peace to Bombay; captures the _Salamander_;
dies.
Angria, Toolajee, illegitimate son of Conajee Angria; taken prisoner by Mahrattas;
succeeds Sumbhajee;
captures the _Princess Augusta_;
sacks Mangalore and Honore;
captures the _Restoration_;
captures trading boats;
chases the _Tartar_;
attacks the _Ruby_;
takes the _Swallow_;
proposes terms to the Bombay Council; the English co-operate with the Peishwa against; his fleet chased by James;
his fort at Severndroog bombarded; the Council’s orders as to terms of capitulation with; leaves Gheriah and treats with the Mahrattas; warns his brother-in-law against surrendering Gheriah; his person demanded from the Mahrattas; his fleet destroyed at Gheriah;
imprisoned for life by the Mahrattas; escape of his sons from captivity.
Angria, Yessajee, illegitimate son of Conajee Angria; imprisoned by Mannajee.
Anjediva, island, part of Brown’s fleet finds refuge at; Portuguese fort on.
Anjengo, the Dutch oust the Portuguese from; English factory and fort at;
unrest at;
massacre of the English at;
state of the garrison at;
fort at, besieged;
the Company’s goods at, plundered; monopoly of pepper trade at, secured to the Company; the Company’s remarks on trade at.
_Anne_, the, grab, taken by Toolajee Angria. _Anne_, ketch, the, sails for Bombay;
how protected;
attacked and captured by Angrian ships; recovered from Angria;
taken by Sumbhajee Angria.
Annesley, Daniel, President of Surat, imprisoned Anselme, Captain, commander of the _Derby_, purposely delays his ship; surrenders the _Derby_ to Angria.
_Anson_, the, East Indiaman, attacked by French man-of-war. _Antelope_, the, taken by the Coolee rovers. _Apollo_, the, French man-of-war, attacks the _Anson_. Arabs, the, of Muscat, pirates;
attack the Company’s ship _President_; ravage Salsette.
Armenian merchants, their complaints of pirates. Armenian ships, plundered by pirates.
Ashure, Rani of Attinga, the English settle in her territory; dies.
Attinga, monopoly of the pepper trade at, granted to the English;