Analysing the Barkur Manuscript[1]
- Alan Machado
- Jan 28
- 4 min read
Updated: Mar 22
Subtle details suggest that the author was a captive who served in the lashkar-i-ahmadi, and escaped circa 1789 during Tipu’s Malabar campaign. The most compelling of these is the date he gives for the arrests: 30th of the Tulu month of Mai which corresponds to mid-March, not Ash Wednesday. The treaty of peace between Tipu and the East India Company was signed on March, 11. During February until a little after this day, the English delegation was camped in Mangalore. Yet, none of their many accounts by different individuals talk of the arrests. The only conclusion is, that they occurred after they had left Mangalore, after the signing. Tipu's court history records they took place in the morning after the morning devotions (Mass). This points to the first convenient Sunday after March 11, either 14th or 21st.
A look at other details in the Barkur Manuscript:
The people of the Mangalore, Bantwal, and adjacent Taluks had already arrived before the Barkur people, and these last were followed by those belonging to Honore, and neighbouring parts.
The sequence of arrivals stated in the manuscript matches the distances from the three main regions, Mangalore, Kundapur, and Honavar, from Srirangapatna, the former being the closest.
They were about 20,000 people from these two taluks. (Barkur and Kundapur Taluks)
This is certainly an exaggeration. The 1818 parish census records the following numbers:
Kundapur (Rosario) 445
Gangoli (Conceicao) 294
Nagar (Bom Successo) 121
Kalianpur (Milagres) 1413
Total 2273
The District Collector’s figure for 1801 for entire North Kanara is 476 households of which only 36 are from Kundapur (Buchanan 1807: 5, 24, 195, 246, 263). The number who returned from Srirangapatna would, therefore, be around 2,000. Assuming an attrition of 50%, the number in 1784 would be closer to 4,000-5,000, and not 20,000.
The total Christian population amounted to 80,000 souls
The writer would not have had the means to arrive at the true numbers. The true numbers would be closer to 33,000. It is possible that the figure of 80,000 was inserted by the translator at a later date.
A month after these people had been located at Shaharganjam, small-pox, dysentery, fever, cholera and various other diseases broke out and carried off so many that at least one-third of them must have died.
The modern names and categorization of these diseases are unlikely to been known to the writer, especially as he was unfamiliar with English. It suggests a later addition, perhaps by the translator.
The estimate of one-third casualties in the first months is corroborated by Wilks (Wilks 1817a: 528)
Even meals were cooked while dead bodies lay in the house.
Traditionally, bereaved Mangalorean Catholics do not cook at home until the funeral is over. Relatives and friends send food during this time. That they were forced to means almost every family was affected and they had to look after themselves as best they could.
When the survivors of the hardships of the journey arrived within two leagues of Seringapatam, they were made to halt at a place called Karikatte, this side of the river Mennehole.
This minute geographical detail and direction of approach strengthens the view that the narrator took that journey. Between the island of Srirangapatna and the Karighat hill, the Kaveri splits into a number of shallow muddy streams, mannu+holle, in Kannada.
they were given hachada and various other presents and sent back.
Exchanging presents had important symbolism in establishing the relationship between ruler and subject.
Some time afterwards, Jennehole, Padulli and other villages were given them for cultivation, as well as some old paddy fields for their subsistence. The use of the rice cooked from this paddy produced serious maladies among the people.
Yennehole and Pallahally are villages close to Srirangapatna.
Coastal paddy is parboiled and dried before storage. Quite possibly they were given ragi, a grain grown only in this region, instead of rice. Scurry writes: “They gave us rice for the first eight or ten days, when they changed it to rage, the flour of which is nearly as black as coal. This, no doubt, occasioned the death of numbers of our poor fellows, who died in excruciating agonies...” (Scurry 1824: 56).
Men were paid one pagoda each per month, while women, and children under ten years of age, received one rupee. Some of them were appointed jemadars, subedars and havildars.
The intimate details about the recruitment closely match those given by Drake, Scurry, Whiteway, Bristow, Thompson, and others. Kirkpatrick reveals that rations were supplied only to the chelas and a mullah was attached to their risalas. His knowledge of the Adoni campaign suggest he could have taken part in the campaign or knew colleagues who had.
The Sultan on his return to Seringapatam from Adoni, caused all those who had escaped to Kanara or had been lurking there, to be taken into custody.
This happened in 1787 when Caithan Coelho fled to Tellicherry.
they were circumcised
Details of Babli Anton’s death matches closely those given by Scurry suggesting both were in the Srirangapatna garrison. Bristow writes about the new chelas being made to shuttle between Mysore and the capital while Woodley writes about being whipped with tamarind switches (Thompson 1788b: 107).
The Sultan being apprised of this, ordered them to be mixed up with the Corgars, Hindus and Mahomedans.
Bristow writes derisively that his fellow chelas secretly prayed before a crucifix and said the rosary.
and took some of the Christians with him
Bristow mentions the reorganization of the chela risalas before the Travancore campaign on which eight risalas were taken. Most likely the author participated in that campaign and was present at the Travancore Lines debacle. He uses Tipu’s name, Ram Rajah, for the Travancore king.
At the critical moment when the Sultan was in imminent danger, Manuel Mendez, his personal attendant, donned his master’s apparel and took his place in the royal palanquin, while the Sultan hid himself in a nullah and eventually escaped to the camp. Ram Rajah’s soldiers seized the palanquin, thinking that its occupant was the Sultan.
Contemporary English news reports corroborate Tipu’s rescue by his chelas. Tipu injury resulted in a limp.
Before the Sultan reached Seringapatam, information was received that the British Company’s troops under Colonel Medows were advancing from below the Ghauts.
The narrative ends abruptly with Medows’s invasion in 1789 which suggests, unless a further narrative was lost, that he escaped at this time (Punganuri 1849: 41)
[1] Machado (Prabhu), Alan. 2015. Slaves of Sultans. Goa 1556. Saligao: 385-390
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