South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies

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The White Raja Of Srirangapattana: Was Arthur

Wellesley Tipu Sultan's True Successor?

Kate Brittlebank

To cite this article: Kate Brittlebank (2003) The White Raja Of Srirangapattana: Was Arthur
Wellesley Tipu Sultan's True Successor?, South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, 26:1, 23-35,
DOI: 10.1080/085640032000063968

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 South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies,
n.s., Vol. XXVI, no. 1, 2003

The White Raja Of Srirangapattana: Was Arthur

Wellesley Tipu Sultan’s True Successor?

Kate Brittlebank

Monash University

In an important essay on the representation of colonial authority on the subconti-

nent, Bernard Cohn has argued that, during the first half of the nineteenth century,
‘there was an incompleteness and contradiction in the cultural-symbolic consti-
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tution of India’.1 The concept of a cultural-symbolic constitution

embrace[s] such things as classificatory schema, assumptions about

how things are, cosmologies, world views, ethical systems, legal codes,
definitions of governmental units and social groups, ideologies, re-
ligious doctrines, myths, rituals, procedures, and rules of etiquette.2

More specifically, Cohn proposes that the expansion of British rule resulted in a
fracturing of the order of the elements of this cultural-symbolic constitution; with
special reference to the idiom of kingship, he seeks to show how the colonisers
attempted to resolve the contradictions this fracturing brought about. The following
discussion draws upon this analysis and examines a related aspect of Indo-British
relations during the complex transitional period between the decline of the Mughals
and the establishment of British power.

On 4 April 1803 the governor-general of India, Richard Wellesley, Lord Morning-

ton, wrote to the governor in Council at Fort St George. It was imperative, he
instructed, that his brother, Major General Arthur Wellesley, be retained in his
present post of military commander of Mysore, despite the fact that, as part of
growing British involvement in Maratha affairs, he was at that time leading a
detachment of troops in Maratha territory.3 Mornington’s letter had been prompted
by one he had recently received from his brother, in which Arthur had voiced his
fear that he would be removed from the Mysore command on the replacement of
the Madras governor, Lord Clive, who was about to leave India. ‘I am willing to
resign the command of Mysore’, he had written,

1
Bernard S. Cohn, ‘Representing Authority in Victorian India’ in An Anthropologist Among the Historians and Other
Essays (Delhi, 1987), p.641.
2
Ronald Inden, ‘Cultural Symbolic Constitutions in Ancient India’, cited in Cohn, ‘Representing Authority in
Victorian India’, p.641.
3
Lt. Col. Gurwood (ed.), Despatches Of the Field Marshal The Duke Of Wellington During His Various Campaigns
in India, Denmark, Portugal, Spain, the Low Countries, and France from 1799 to 1818 (London, 1834) [hereafter
Despatches], Vol.1, pp.467–9.

ISSN 0085-6401 print; 1479-0270 online/03/010023-13  2003 South Asian Studies Association of Australia
DOI: 10.1080/085640032000063968
 24 SOUTH ASIA

as soon as this campaign is over; but I am anxious that this detachment

should be in a state of efficiency and well equipped. It can be well
supplied only by the resources of Mysore, and I am certain of having
the use of them, only by keeping the command of Mysore in my own
hands.4

After a four-year residence in Mysore, Wellesley was convinced that he had

‘acquired considerable influence in that country, which has lately been exerted to
bring forward its resources for the use of the armies’.5 The governor-general agreed
and pressed upon Fort St George the need for a free flow of supplies from an area
outside the field of action, which was contingent upon Wellesley keeping his
command:
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The activity and energy which have distinguished the conduct of the
executive authority in Mysore are principally to be ascribed to the
influence which Major General Wellesley has been enabled to establish
in that country, by his judicious conduct of the British army stationed
at Mysore.6

‘The preservation of that influence’, he concluded, ‘is inseparably connected with

the continuance of Major General Wellesley in the command of the British forces
in Mysore’.7

While Arthur Wellesley might have exaggerated the importance of his role, it does
appear that he was correct in emphasising the significance of his continued personal
involvement in Mysore affairs. This paper examines why Wellesley was so
apparently successful in his position of military commander, and suggests answers
might be found by looking at how he was perceived by the Indians on the ground,
particularly in the context of the nature of Indian kingship. In order for him to draw
upon the ‘flourishing resources of Mysore’,8 it was vital that Wellesley received the
co-operation and support of the local people. How was he able to achieve this
during his six-year association with the former kingdom of Tipu Sultan?

Arthur Wellesley found himself in the position of military commander of Mysore

as the direct result of his brother the governor-general’s aggressive policies, which
had led to the invasion of that kingdom in early 1799 and to the death of its ruler
in the course of the siege of his capital Srirangapattana.9 Wellesley’s own
4
Ibid., p.433.
5
Ibid., p.432.
6
Ibid., p.468.
7
Ibid. For the emphasis placed by Wellesley on adequate communication and supply, see Dirk H.A. Kolff, ‘The End
Of an Ancien Regime: Colonial War in India, 1798–1818’; in J.A. de Moor and H.L. Wesseling (eds), Imperialism
and War: Essays on Colonial Wars in Asia and Africa (Leiden, 1988), p.41. For Wellesley, Kolff concludes: ‘logistics
held the secret of empire’.
8
Despatches, Vol.1, p.432.
9
For a discussion of the wider context of Richard Wellesley’s actions in this regard, see Edward Ingram, Commitment
to Empire: Prophecies Of the Great Game in Asia 1797–1800 (Oxford, 1981), especially pp.115–91. An account of
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 25

involvement in the attack had been as commander of the nizam of Hyderabad’s

troops, and the day after the fall of Srirangapattana he was put in command of the
city—at that time still in a state of wild chaos, with both troops and inhabitants
intent on plunder—replacing an exhausted Major General David Baird.10 A day
later, he was confirmed in the position of governor. It was not until early July,
however, that he was appointed to the military command of Srirangapattana and
Mysore. In the intervening period, the victors carved up the kingdom between
themselves, leaving a rump state of landlocked territory. On the throne of the
reduced Mysore they placed Krishna Raja Wodeyar III, a five-year-old child and
descendant of the erstwhile ruling Hindu dynasty, from whom Tipu’s father, Haidar
‘Ali, had seized power in the early 1760s. As diwan, and thus regent, they
appointed Purnaiya who had been Tipu Sultan’s most senior Hindu official. Colonel
Barry Close became Mysore’s first British resident.
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Under the Subsidiary Treaty of Seringapatam, which set out the Company’s
relationship with the kingdom, Mysore was to have no independent foreign policy
and was required to support a subsidiary force of British troops. The Treaty also
contained a clause that gave the Company the right to assume the government of
the kingdom, in whole or in part, if it appeared that the subsidy due to it could not
be paid.11 Close was instructed to supervise closely the raja’s officials, in order that
the subsidy be paid punctually and the kingdom’s resources improved. He had
orders to see that Purnaiya did not become too personally powerful, and to monitor
the raja’s correspondence with neighbouring rulers.12

The resident thus was intimately involved in the running of government and in this
he was aided by his military counterpart, Arthur Wellesley. Before proceeding
further, though, certain points need to be noted. First, the island of Srirangapattana
was not included within the raja’s territory and remained under direct British
control. It was, in effect, Company territory and Wellesley, in addition to his
military duties, was responsible for its administration. Second, it is one thing to
install a ruler on the throne and another to have him acknowledged as such. Almost
two hundred years since the elevation of Krishna Raja III, the position of the
incumbent maharaja of Mysore (whatever his official status might be) is unchal-
lenged. In 1799, this was not the case. Third, while the British had ostensibly
formalised arrangements through the Treaty, on the ground, as will be seen, the
situation was a great deal more confused—and would remain so for some time.

Arthur Wellesley’s Indian career can be found in Jac Weller, Wellington in India (London, 1972). Tipu was killed
on 4 May 1799, the day of the capture of his fortress capital.
10
In 1798 the British had signed a subsidiary alliance with Hyderabad, leading to the involvement of its troops in
the invasion.
11
In 1831, this clause was improperly used by governor-general William Bentinck to support the assumption of the
administration of Mysore. Michael H. Fisher, Indirect Rule in India: Residents and the Residency System 1764–1858
(Delhi, 1991), pp.410–12. The full text of the Treaty can be found in Robert Montgomery Martin (ed.), The Despatches,
Minutes and Correspondence Of the Marquess Wellesley During His Administration in India (repr. 1836 ed., New
Delhi, 1984), Vol.2, p.43 n.
12
For a detailed discussion of the events of this two-month period see A.S. Bennell, ‘Wellesley’s Settlement Of
Mysore, 1799’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (1952), pp.124–32.
 26 SOUTH ASIA

Part of this confusion sprang from the different British and Indian conceptions of
political power.13 Recent work on kingship in India has shown that it was
essentially fluid, formed of shifting alliances, and articulated through the ritual
exchange of honours.14 Ranking was expressed in an incorporative process, through
the exchange of gifts between superiors and inferiors. In Mughal ritual, which was
generally imitated by other Indian courts, gifts from the emperor, of khel‘ats or
robes of honour—made up usually of several items of clothing—were reciprocated
by the offering of nazr, often consisting of coin of the realm, which acknowledged
the emperor’s legitimacy. This process incorporated the recipient of the khel‘at into
the body of the king. Thus, kingship could be said to be shared, and a person
incorporated in this way was henceforth a deputy of the king, and, in the king’s
absence, represented the king—in effect became the king, being able to maintain
a court, bestow khel‘ats and accept nazr. It is in this context that Arthur
Wellesley’s position in Mysore should be understood.15
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In the same way, resident Barry Close’s role must be looked at from the Indian
viewpoint. Michael Fisher’s study of the residency system under the Company has
shown that, in its early phase, the Indians took residents to be wakils. Rulers
maintained wakils at each other’s courts for purposes of political prestige, diplo-
macy, lobbying and information gathering. Moreover, wakils were, in fact, ex-
changed for a time with the Company, and during the early period, some Indian
rulers maintained representatives in Calcutta, Madras or Bombay. At this time,
then, as Fisher notes, ‘a certain equality prevailed between the Rulers and the
Company as wakils from one and Residents from the other functioned in much the
same world’.16 Later, though, the situation changed—as the role of the resident
changed—and some rulers began to recognise the dangers associated with their
acceptance of a resident at their court. Others, alternatively, sought to manipulate
the residents for their own ends.17

An area where the Company’s residents became increasingly influential was that of
court ritual. Around the start of the nineteenth century some residents began to
co-opt royal symbols to help them get the upper hand in their relationships with the
rulers. This frequently led to frustration or misunderstandings on both sides.18
13
Kolff’s article, ‘End Of an Ancien Regime’, argues that the consequence of these different political cultures was
that British and Indian war aims were different.
14
As well as Kolff’s article, see, for example, Nicholas B. Dirks, The Hollow Crown: Ethnohistory Of an Indian
Kingdom (Cambridge, 1987); and Andre Wink, Land and Sovereignty in India: Agrarian Society and Politics Under
the Eighteenth-Century Maratha Svarajya (Cambridge, 1986). Wink describes the Indian state as ‘a form of
institutionalised dissidence’, p.386. See also Burton Stein, Peasant State and Society in Medieval South India (Delhi,
1980), and Pamela G. Price’s discussion of ‘segmentary’ politics in her Kingship and Political Practice in Colonial
India (Cambridge, 1996), pp.13–19.
15
On incorporative ritual see, for example, Cohn, ‘Representing Authority’, pp.635–7; the works of F.W. Buckler,
on which Cohn draws, such as ‘Two Instances Of Khil‘at in the Bible’, in Journal Of Theological Studies, Vol.23
(1922), pp.197–9; ‘The Human Khil‘at’ in The Near East and India, Vol.34, no.903 (1928), pp.269–70; and ‘The
Oriental Despot’, in M.N. Pearson (ed.), Legitimacy and Symbols: The South Asian Writings Of F.W. Buckler (Ann
Arbor, 1985), pp.176–93. See also my Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy: Islam and Kingship in a Hindu Domain
(Delhi, 1997), pp.91–106.
16
Fisher, Indirect Rule, pp.272–3.
17
Ibid., pp.273–6.
18
Ibid., pp.178–86.
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 27

Significantly, it was also during this period, from the end of the eighteenth through
the first half of the nineteenth century, that the British, having initially regarded the
royal practice of gift-giving in solely economic terms and, therefore, as little more
than a form of bribery, adopted incorporative practices themselves, giving khel‘ats
and accepting nazr. From their viewpoint, though, these exchanges were rituals of
subordination, with none of the incorporative meaning described above.19 As will
be seen, for quite some time after the reinstatement of the Mysore raja, Close’s role
at his court was not clearly understood by the local Indians.

Another contributing factor to the prevailing confusion about roles was no doubt
the fact that the Mysore court was not an established one, with the attendant and
identifiable hierarchical structures to be found at such courts as Hyderabad or
Awadh. It is clear that—at least during the first few years of the raja’s incum-
bency—neither the British nor the Mysoreans were entirely sure of where the
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boundaries of authority lay, although it should be said that the British seem to have
been more certain than the Indians. This can be seen particularly in the latter’s
dealings with Wellesley and Close. Under the residency system, Barry Close was
the intermediary, if you like, who served as the link between the raja (in fact
Purnaiya) and the Company. He was responsible for all communications between
Mysore, the Company and other Indian rulers. Yet, invariably Wellesley was
approached first. The Raja of Coorg, for example, who felt aggrieved at his
treatment by the British after the fall, on more than one occasion pressed his
complaints on Wellesley (sometimes including a letter to be passed on to Close).20
In March 1800, when the raja took advantage of Wellesley’s presence in his
neighbourhood and visited him, Wellesley, in some exasperation,
took an opportunity of letting him see that I had nothing to do with
political matters; that he would soon see you [Close], that you had been
many years in this country, had a perfect knowledge of its affairs, &c.
&c., and that you were not ignorant of the nature of his connexion with
the Company; and I recommended to him to listen to what you should
say to him as the advice of his best friend.21
These misunderstandings continued after Close was posted as resident at Poona. In
December 1802, Wellesley received a wakil at Srirangapattana from the Maratha
Jaswant Holkar.22 Although Wellesley entered into discussions with the wakil, he
pointed out to him the mode of political communication between the
British government in India and the Native states; and informed him
that the negotiations, then depending between his Excellency the
Governor general and the Peshwa, had been committed exclusively to
Lieut. Colonel Close …23
19
Cohn, ‘Representing Authority’, pp.633, 637, 639–40.
20
Despatches, Vol.1, p.58.
21
Arthur Wellesley to Close, Mar. 1800, ibid., pp.96–7.
22
Ibid., pp.384–8.
23
Ibid., pp.387. This situation changed in 1803, however, when Wellesley was given full powers to negotiate with
the Marathas on behalf of the Company. But by this time he was in the Deccan, leading the offensive to restore the
Peshwa to Poona. See A.S. Bennell, ‘Arthur Wellesley as Political Agent: 1803’, in The Journal Of the Royal Asiatic
 28 SOUTH ASIA

At other times, though, Wellesley was apparently less sure of how to proceed. He
and Close had frequent discussions about the correct course of action to take. Often
these discussions revolved around problems arising from the distinctions made
between the raja’s territory and the island of Srirangapattana, which, as noted, was
under direct British control. Two issues in particular presented difficulties—secur-
ity, and the levying of taxes on the island. In a letter to Close, dated 29 July 1801,
Wellesley expressed his doubts about how far his authority extended in judicial
matters. A native court of justice had been set up on the island, but just who came
under its jurisdiction was moot. As Wellesley pointed out, Purnaiya, for example,
resided on the island, as did other principal officers of the Mysore government (the
raja’s court had been moved to the town of Mysore). The situation could arise, for
example, where Purnaiya in the course of his duties, might do injury to a resident
of Srirangapattana. What if the latter brought a case against him? Wellesley
concluded:
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and yet without more experience than we have yet had of the operation
of the court (of the manner in which the machine works), it is not
possible to define cases so as that Government may enforce a regu-
lation which will secure the jurisdiction of the court on one hand, and
will prevent the Rajah’s principal servants residing upon the island
from suffering inconvenience on the other.24
He then proposed a list of procedures for dealing with such situations that
presumably were adhered to from then on.
Similar problems arose regarding the levying of taxes on goods entering and
leaving Srirangapattana. According to Wellesley, the raja was not supposed to tax
goods coming to the island ‘nearer than 30 or 40 miles’. This restriction had
apparently not been observed by Purnaiya. In addition, the Company wanted to
raise revenue from the island itself, mainly in order to fund the running of the
native court. They were, however, in something of a bind, as on the one hand, they
themselves required income, yet on the other hand, because of the subsidy, it was
in their interests not to impinge on that of the raja.25
The approaches made to Arthur Wellesley by both the Coorg raja and the Maratha
wakils, suggest, none the less, that despite these uncertainties, the Indians had
formed an opinion about who represented the ultimate authority in Mysore. This is
reinforced by the number of petitions that Wellesley received directly from people
with varying requests. In the early days of the settlement of Mysore, he held an
authority from government to grant pensions, particularly to the surviving members
of the families of Tipu’s officers. He appears to have lost this authority at the end
of 1799.26 He continued, though, to be approached well into 1801, with requests
Footnote 23 continued
Society (1987), pp.273–88; see also ‘Memorandum Of the Conferences Between…Arthur Wellesley and the
Ambassadors of the Rajah of Berar’, 30 Nov. 1803, OIOC Home Miscellaneous Series [hereafter Home Misc.] 623/6;
and ‘Memorandum Of the Conferences Between Arthur Wellesley and the Ambassadors Of Dowlut Rao Scindiah’,
10 Nov. 1803, Home Misc. 623/8.
24
Despatches, Vol.1, pp.340–43.
25
Ibid., pp.331–4.
26
Ibid., pp.45, 46, 49, 53.
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 29

from people claiming to be family members entitled to pensions.27 In addition, as

late as November 1802, he was petitioned by one ‘Singi Bugwent’ for a jagir or
grant of land to replace one apparently lost by him.28 The terminology used in the
letter is interesting. The writer refers to Wellesley favouring him with ‘friendship’,
an expression frequently found in communications between subject and ruler.29 As
has been seen, Wellesley appears to have gone to great pains to educate the Indians
in the correct avenues to take in dealing with the Company, yet seemingly with
little success. Let us turn now, then, to the question of why he failed to change
local understanding of the British interpretation of the structures of power.

It will be helpful, first, to look in more detail at the actual relationship between the
Company and the Wodeyars. Once the decision had been made to reinstate the raja,
the Commission set up to oversee the Mysore settlement put in train the organis-
ation of an installation ceremony.30 This took place in the open at the Mysore
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palace and was witnessed by ‘numerous’ spectators.31 In attendance, along with the
royal family and senior Mysore officials were the Commission members and Mir
‘Alam, who had led the Hyderabad troops and was one of the nizam’s senior men.
Also present were several of Tipu’s surviving officers, including Ghulam ‘Ali Khan
and ‘Ali Reza Khan, Tipu’s most senior wakils, who had taken up of the offer of
pensions. The description of the ceremony makes it clear that careful thought had
been given to the precise form it should take:

The ceremony of placing the Rajah on the Musnud was performed by

Lt. General Harris, as Senior Member of the Commission and by Meer
Allum, each of them taking a hand of his Highness on the occasion. His
Excellency the Commander in Chief some time after delivered to the
Rajah the [illegible] and Signet of the Raiye.32

The significance of the physical contact with the raja would have been plain to
observers. It stated categorically to whom he owed his position, as did the handing
over of the royal seal. The Wodeyars themselves understood the situation perfectly.
The dowager Rani Lakshmi Ammanni, who for years had struggled to return her
family to power, wrote to the Commissioners to express their gratitude:

Forty years have elapsed since our Government ceased. Now you have
favored our Boy with the Government of this Country, and nominated
Purneah to be his Dewan, we shall while the Sun and Moon may
continue commit no offence to your Government. We shall at all times
consider ourselves as under your protection and orders.33
27
See, for example, ibid., pp.88, 330. Wellesley duly passed the requests on to Close.
28
Singi Bugwent to Arthur Wellesley, 13 Nov. 1801, Home Misc. 619/6.
29
Through the incorporative ritual of shared kingship, people became ‘friends’ of the king, rather than ‘servants’.
Buckler, ‘Oriental Despot’, p.177.
30
The Commission members were General George Harris, the commander of the invading army, Arthur Wellesley,
Henry Wellesley, William Kirkpatrick and Barry Close.
31
Mysore Commissioners to Lord Mornington, 30 June 1799, Home Misc. 255/10.
32
Ibid..
33
Lakshmi Ammani and Devaj Ammani to Mysore Commissioners, 25 June 1799, Home Misc. 255/10. For Lakshmi
Ammanni’s actions during the reigns of Haidar and Tipu, see Brittlebank, Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy, pp.19,
25, 57, 60.
 30 SOUTH ASIA

‘Purniah’, wrote William Kirkpatrick to the governor-general, ‘considers the

country to be the Company’s and the Raja a mere puppet’.34

Thus far, then, the Indians seem to have interpreted the relationship between the
Company and the raja correctly, whatever gloss the British might have put on the
situation with regard to the reinstatement of rightful rulers to their thrones.35 In this
regard, Purnaiya’s position is interesting and needs to be discussed further. Michael
Fisher has pointed out that, even at the end of his tenure as diwan, Purnaiya appears
to have seen his first loyalty as owed not to the raja, but to the Company. In fact,
this led to his ultimate downfall in 1812.36 In 1811, the raja reached the age of 16
years and asserted his right to take over the administration of the kingdom. The
British concurred. Purnaiya, however, balked at this and refused to comply.
(Interestingly, he had never condescended to train the boy for this role.37) Although
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he seems eventually to have agreed to hand over control, the diwan found it
impossible to work under the new conditions. In the end, the acting resident took
matters into his own hands and ‘publicly reproved’ Purnaiya, who consequently
tendered his resignation, which was accepted.38 Presumably this took place in a
darbar and would have been deeply humiliating to the diwan. Doubtless, too, the
resident would have been fully aware of this.

That Purnaiya should have held such a view of his position is hardly surprising. On
4 March 1800 he wrote to Lord Clive: ‘The hue of this State has been rendered
verdant by the Clouds of your Lordship’s kindness and benignity; your Lordship
has taken me by the hand and Exalted me’.39 Clive in return informed the diwan
that

Your friendly intercourse with the respectable Sirdars, who are charged
with the Company’s Civil and Military affairs in Mysoor is extremely
agreeable to me, and will essentially promote the benefits which both
countries must derive from their intimate connexion.… The assurances
of your firm attachment to the Company’s Government are highly
agreeable to me.40

Furthermore, Wellesley’s letters to Close are certainly of a tone to indicate an

expectation that Purnaiya would comply with all requests. In May 1800, for
example, he wrote: ‘will you be so kind to speak to Purneah about placing in those
forts a few trusty peons, on whom he can depend, that they will give them up to
us when we may require them?’ And concluded: ‘will you desire Purneah to give
34
Cited in Bennell, ‘Wellesley’s Settlement’, p.132. The letter is dated 27 June 1799.
35
For a discussion of the use of this kind of reasoning to legitimise British expansion in India, see C.A. Bayly, Indian
Society and the Making Of the British Empire (The New Cambridge History of India 2.1) (Cambridge, 1988), pp.81–2.
36
Fisher, Indirect Rule, pp.408–10.
37
Ibid., p.409.
38
‘Notes and Memoranda on…the Resignation and death [on] 28 March 1812 of the Diwan Poornea’, Home Misc.
256/3.
39
Poorniah to Lord Clive, 4 Mar. 1800, Home Misc. 258/17.
40
Edward Lord Clive to Poorniah, 28 Mar. 1800, Home Misc. 458/2.
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 31

orders to the killadar to make the repairs to the fort of Hurryhur, and throw in there
a supply of provisions?’41 Although Wellesley always used Close to communicate
with Purnaiya, the diwan clearly believed he could approach Wellesley directly. In
June 1801, for example, he requested a gun be supplied. Wellesley duly referred
the request back to Close, asking him to send a requisition ‘for a six-pounder, its
carriage and limber, and ammunition in the limber box’.42

It seems fair to suggest, in the context of shared kingship and the Indian perception
of residents as wakils, that the chain of command in Mysore at this time could be
described as beginning with Barry Close as the Company’s wakil at the raja’s court,
and ascending through Wellesley as its representative in Company territory, namely
Srirangapattana. At any rate, this certainly does seem to be how the state of affairs
was interpreted locally. Moreover, such a reading would explain the frequent Indian
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approaches to Wellesley, bypassing Close—despite protestations from the former

that he was not concerned with political affairs. The raja, of course, owed
allegiance to the Company, a point that had been clearly demonstrated at his
enthronement. Yet this did not diminish his kingship. Under the incorporative
process, the Company outranked him, but it also encompassed him, incorporating
him into its rule.43 In Indian eyes, in Mysore the Company was personified by
Wellesley, not Close. The final part of this paper will discuss why this was so.

As noted earlier, Wellesley’s position as military commander of Srirangapattana

and Mysore needs to be understood within the context of Indian conceptions of
kingship and political power. Two issues are relevant here—Wellesley’s own
actions and the significance of the Company’s possession of, and Wellesley’s
residence on, the island of Srirangapattana. In India, military might was a
recognised means of enforcing sovereignty. In Hindu theory, this took the form of
danda or the rod of force. Ronald Inden has pointed out that ‘the “rod of force”,
coercion, or punishment was the cultural element, the particular form of power that
distinguished the kingly role from other roles’.44 Essentially, those rulers who
established peace, law and order in their domains were considered legitimate.45 As
has been seen, following the death of Tipu Sultan and the capture of Sri-
rangapattana, the island was in chaos, and Wellesley was charged with restoring
order. This he did, swiftly and decisively, hanging people where he judged it
necessary. He also took pains to visit the houses of the principal families to
reassure them of their safety. His actions quickly had a calming effect. By 6 May,
only two days after the fall, he was able to write to General Harris: ‘Plunder is
41
Despatches, Vol.1, pp.120–21. For other examples, see pp.80, 89, 104, 340. In the matter of supplies for the Maratha
offensive, Wellesley informed Close at the start of 1803: ‘I cannot conclude this letter without letting you know how
amply Mysore has contributed to the supply and equipment of the army to be assembled on its frontier, and how readily
our little friend Purneah has come into all my plans for the service’. Ibid., p.394.
42
Ibid., p.325.
43
Cohn, ‘Representing Authority’, p.641. See also, Price, Kingship and Political Practice, p.16, where she argues
that ‘all heads of domains—not only chiefs, little kings and the great kings—ruled’.
44
Ronald Inden, ‘Ritual, Authority and Cyclic Time in Hindu Kingship’, in J.F. Richards (ed.), Kingship and Authority
in South Asia (2nd ed., Madison, 1981), p.35.
45
On Tipu’s use of military might to enforce his sovereignty, see Brittlebank, Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy,
pp.85–9.
 32 SOUTH ASIA

stopped, the fires are all extinguished, and the inhabitants are returning to their
houses fast’.46 Soon the bazaars were restocked and open.47 Wellesley’s personal
involvement in bringing order to the island would not be forgotten.

It would be wrong to infer from this, though, that British rule was accepted without
opposition. Tipu’s death had created a power vacuum in Mysore and people looked
for opportunities to use this to their advantage. In addition, there were many who
remained loyal to Tipu’s memory and refused to cooperate with the foreigners.48 It
took more than a year for the situation to become relatively stable, during which
time Wellesley travelled all over the region, subduing minor and not so minor
rebellions. One man in particular was a thorn in his side. The Maratha, Dhoondia
Waugh, who had once been employed by Tipu, was finally killed in September
1800, after Wellesley had pursued him doggedly for several months. Petty rulers,
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such as the Pyche Raja, also sought to exert themselves; and disturbances occurred
even on the island of Srirangapattana itself, but they were all contained. One of
Wellesley’s methods for putting down conspiracies and uprisings was the setting of
public examples. In July 1800, he wrote to Close:

I have received the proceedings of the court of inquiry upon Ma-

hommed Ismael, late Asoph of Chinreydroog, and I have given orders
that he may be hanged, and his crime published in the district of
Nundydroog.49

Likewise, after disturbances occurred in March 1800 in the bazaars of Srirangapat-

tana, the perpetrators were tried by a native general court martial. Wellesley
informed Close that he intended ‘to hang two of them if they should be sentenced,
as I imagine they will’.50

Arthur Wellesley clearly saw the use of force was the most effective way to subdue
the region. He articulated this in a letter to Lord Clive, in response to the latter’s
request for an opinion on how to control territories recently ceded to the Company
by the nizam. It is apparent from this that Wellesley was an astute observer of
Indian political culture. ‘Neither the new territory nor the old can be kept in awe
by troops in forts’, he advised. He, therefore, recommended a mobile force ‘to have
at all times in the field’. It would become apparent that this system was necessary
in the ceded territory, he argued, ‘when the nature of its inhabitants, and the
governments to which they have been accustomed are considered’.51 Most interest-
ingly, this form of control very much resembled the practice of Indian rulers, who
displayed their power by regularly travelling their domains.52 Moreover, as Kolff
46
Despatches, Vol.1, p.37.
47
Ibid., p.39.
48
The inhabitants of Chitaldrug, for example, had served in Tipu’s army and refused ‘to take service’ with the British
forces. Ibid., p.125.
49
Ibid., p.176.
50
Ibid., p.89.
51
Ibid., p.157.
52
Brittlebank, Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy, pp.131, 133.
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 33

has noted, Wellesley quickly understood that Indian and British conceptions of
loyalty were not the same.53 ‘The whole of the country to be ceded by the Nizam’,
he wrote,

is inhabited by petty rajahs and polygars, who have never been entirely
subdued, and have never submitted to the species of government which
must be exercised by the Company’s servants…. [T]hey are entirely
unacquainted with the restraint of a regular authority, constructed upon
the principles adopted by the Company’s Government. This they will
resist, and they must be kept in awe, particularly at first, by a large and
active force.54

It must be said, then, that Wellesley was acting very much in the manner of an
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Indian ruler. In other ways, too, his actions resembled royal behaviour. He seems
to have understood, at least to some extent, the significance of gift giving. For the
provisioning of his forces, he relied heavily upon the grain dealers who supplied
armies in India. In June 1800 he wrote to Close from camp: ‘The brinjarries came
to me at Chittledroog, and I gave them dresses, turbans, &c. &c.’.55 That he realised
these gifts would in some way bind the dealers to him is suggested by a journal
entry of one of his officers, made during the Maratha offensive in 1803. The officer
records that Wellesley gave a camp kotwal a pair of heavy gold bangles, ‘of which
he considerably enhanced the value by putting them on [the kotwal’s] wrists with
his own hands’, and goes on to observe that:

Marks of favour are highly esteemed by inferiors in all countries, but

in none more than in India: this simple attention by General Wellesley
has, no doubt, raised the cutwahl very much in his little city, the
bazaar.56

Here again, we have reference to the elements of physical contact. In royal ritual,
the most highly prized items of clothing, in the gift of a khel‘at, were those that
had been worn by the ruler and which, therefore, carried something of his substance
or essence. Wellesley’s gift of the bangles thus bound the recipient ritually to him.57

Furthermore, as well as carrying out what appeared to be incorporative practices,

in two other respects at least, Wellesley behaved like a king: he went hunting for
pleasure,58 a thoroughly royal pastime; and he resided at the Daria Daulat, one of
53
Kolff, ‘End of an Ancien Regime’, p.29.
54
Despatches, Vol.1, p.157. Francis Buchanan, who carried out a survey of the Mysore territories in 1800, noted that
the Wodeyar family ‘has been so long in obscurity, that it is no longer looked up to in awe; which among the natives
in general is the only thing that supplies the place of loyalty’. Francis Buchanan, Journey From Madras Through
the Countries Of Mysore Canara, and Malabar (London, 1807), Vol.2, pp.72–3.
55
Despatches, Vol.1, p.148.
56
Ibid., Vol.2, p.373 n. Kotwals, sometimes described as officials of police, were charged with the supervision of
bazaars.
57
For an expanded discussion of this process, see Brittlebank, Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy, pp 101–2.
58
Despatches, Vol.1, pp.72–3.
 34 SOUTH ASIA

Tipu’s palaces, on the island of Srirangapattana. This final point is probably the
most significant of all. Srirangapattana had been the capital of Mysore since the
Wodeyars had seized the island from the viceroy of Vijayanagara in 1610. Its
location, in the river Kaveri, one of the great sacred rivers of India, made it an
auspicious site and a potent source of sacred power.59 In the south, where there is
perceived to be a continuum between sacred and royal power,60 this meant that it
was an ideal spot for a capital. The British decision to retain direct control of the
island, therefore, was a shrewd one. Certainly, Wellesley understood its
significance as a source of power in the region.

During the second half of 1801, he composed a 36-point memorandum on the pros
and cons of demolishing the fortifications of Srirangapattana, a proposal that had
been mooted as a result of changing circumstances in Europe. He opposed the plan,
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not merely for strategic reasons (characteristically, to do with supply) but also
because, as he noted:

Seringapatam has long been the capital of an extensive and powerful

empire, the whole of which is now in the possession, or under the
government, or under the immediate influence of the Company’s
government of Fort St. George…. Whatever may be the real state of the
case regarding the power of Seringapatam, resulting from its strength
and its position in Mysore, there is no doubt whatever but that the
natives look to it as the seat of power, and that they consider
themselves under the government of that power in India which has
possession of that fortress.61

Towards the end of the memorandum, he felt the need to stress the significance of
this fact:

I have already pointed out the power which, in my opinion, is attached

to the possession of Seringapatam; and the history of this country has
pointed out more than one instance, in which the Mysore country has
been overrun by a victorious army, which, however, has been obliged
to quit it, because it had not possession of Seringapatam.62

Possession of the island had certainly been the goal of Dhoondia Waugh, of whom
it was said: ‘he is determined that his victorious standard shall fly on Seringap-
atam’.63 Wellesley may not have understood the sacred nature of the place but he
knew that it was the key to the control of Mysore.

59
On the sacred nature of the island, see Brittlebank, Tipu Sultan’s Search for Legitimacy, p.17.
60
Susan Bayly, Saints, Goddesses and Kings: Muslims and Christians in South Indian Society 1700–1900 (Cambridge,
1991), pp.2, 184–5.
61
Despatches, Vol.1, p.344
62
Despatches, Vol.1, p.353.
63
Ibid., p.156.
 THE WHITE RAJA OF SRIRANGAPATTANA 35

In 1804 Arthur Wellesley returned to Srirangapattana from the Deccan. An address

was composed by the inhabitants of the island to welcome him home. ‘We, the
native inhabitants of Seringapatam, have reposed for five auspicious years under
the shadow of your protection’, they wrote.

We have felt, even during your absence, in the midst of battle and of
victory, that your care for our prosperity had been extended to us in as
ample a manner as if no other object had occupied your mind.
We are preparing to perform in our several castes, the duties of
thanksgiving and of sacrifice to the preserving God, who has brought
you back in safety, and we present ourselves in person to express our
joy.64
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That it was Wellesley, and not the Company, the inhabitants saw as their protector
is made clear. ‘May you long continue personally’, they hoped, ‘to dispense to us
that full stream of security and happiness, which we first received with wonder, and
continue to enjoy with gratitude’.65

By behaving in a manner that was recognisably royal, Arthur Wellesley had

become, if you like, Tipu’s true successor. That this was possible was due largely
to the flexible nature of kingship on the subcontinent. Wellesley no doubt saw
himself solely as the Company’s military representative in Mysore.66 Yet to the
Indians, he was the Company. How much Wellesley understood this is beyond the
scope of this paper, but he knew enough about Indian conceptions of power to
realise, during the Maratha offensive, the close link between his personal authority
and the continued maintenance of his supplies.

64
Despatches, Vol.3, pp.419–20.
65
Ibid., p.420. Wellesley finally left the island, to return home to England, in February 1805.
66
In his response to the inhabitants’ address, he had noted: ‘it has been my uniform wish and endeavour to conduct
the public affairs intrusted to my management, according to the orders and intentions of the Government which I am
serving, and under whose protection you are living’. Ibid..
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