Baboo Satya Chandra Mukerji, Distinguished Vakil, High Court, N.W. Provinces:
“The Governor of Bombay Sir Bartle Frere devoted great attention to the improvement of the Mahratta race. He met the assembled sirdars twice in durbar and delivered to them spirited addresses exhorting them to display in these times of peace the same energy that had made the names of their ancestors respected in other days.”
Sir Bartle Frere held the top positions in Sind (1850–59), Bombay (1862–66), and South Africa (1877–80) during his tenure as a proconsul of empire. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1877 after taking a significant role in the activities of the Royal Geographical Society and the Royal Asiatic Society after 1867. It is feasible to recreate his opinions on the extent of geography and the direction of imperial growth from his numerous works. Frere was regarded by those who knew him as a “born geographer.” He proved this by his own fieldwork, particularly in his early years in India; his support of geographical investigations, which was noteworthy because to his relationship with Livingstone; his insistence on the need of geography in education; and his application of his knowledge to issues like hunger in India. In addition to his tangible achievements (such as the construction of “New Bombay”), Frere’s concern in land reform, the inventiveness of Christian missions, and the nature of frontiers—particularly in the context of South Africa—all demonstrate his imperial mindset. Additionally, there is evidence from his work that the practice of geography and imperialist policies are closely related.
In the 142nd year after his passing, Sir Bartle Frere, FRS, deserves to be remembered for his accomplishments. He joined the Royal Geographical Society Council in 1868 and held the position of President from 1873 to 1874. He was involved in various academic groups, most notably the Royal Asiatic Society, of which he served as president three times. His illustrious career as an administrator and politician of empire, initially in India and subsequently in South Africa, was fundamentally shaped by these objectives. There are several concrete reminders of his achievements abroad, such as the construction of “New Bombay” during his governorship (1862-66) and the virtual establishment of Karachi during his tenure as Chief Commissioner of Sind (1850-59). Fortunately, Frere also wrote enough essays and lectures to allow his opinions on the nature of imperial expansion and the extent of geography to be reconstructed. The link between geography and imperialism may also be examined as it developed about 1880, when the European powers were set to accelerate their division of Africa.
As befitted a man whose uncle, John Hookham Frere, was one of the founders of the Royal Geographical Society, Sir Bartle Frere developed an interest in geography at a young age. He was an avid reader of travel and expedition stories when he was a student at Bath, especially those of Bruce, Park, and other African explorers. However, geography was not taught in the East India College, Haileybury, where he enrolled in 1832. His unconventional and daring journey across Egypt and the Red Sea allowed him to enter the Bombay civil service with distinction. While still developing his career in the Mahratta provinces, he shared a scientific curiosity for the area he worked in with many of his peers even before he was officially affiliated with the Royal Geographical Society. The Bombay section of the Royal Asiatic Society, established in 1841 to expand knowledge on topics of oriental inquiry, including the antiquities, philology, geography, and history in western India, served as the focal point of Frere’s fieldwork in archaeology, geology, and history.
His first correspondence was from 1847, while he served as commissioner at Sattara. The abandoned settlement of Sewthur, an old water tank next to Sattara, and silver coins found its embankment were all noted by him in drawings and plans. He then published a comprehensive study, titled “Camp, Sattara Districts, February 1849,” of forty-eight Buddhist cave-temples located in the Ghats close to Karadh. Before Frere and his friends clambered down the ravines and climbed the slopes to find these caverns, no Europeans had ever been there. They were found in a “very soft variety of vesicular amygdaloid, unfavourable for cutting or retaining figures or letters.” Frere anticipated that other caverns will be discovered via continued exploration and “a few rupees judiciously distributed to the shepherds and cowboys,” and he was entirely satisfied with recording them for examination by “more competent observers.” On March 24, 1849, Frere’s research on another set of cave-temples at Wai in the Krishna valley was transmitted to Dr. John Wilson, FRS, president of the Bombay Society, one of the knowledgeable observers who benefited from it. The destroyed Mugol city of Bijapur, whose magnificent mosques, mausoleums, and castle were observed a few years earlier, further demonstrates Frere’s effectiveness as a middleman in such research. Two of the few Muslims in Bijapur who were proficient in Persian and Arabic had gathered a collection of inscriptions, which Frere helped to retrieve and preserve. Additionally, he arranged for the copying of a list of Sanskrit literature that were kept in one of the temples at Sattara. He was submitting geological specimens to the Society’s museum at the same time.
Frere’s dedication to field research was successfully transferred to Sind in 1850. At the remarkably young age of 35, he was appointed Chief Commissioner, replacing Sir Charles Napier, the conqueror of that just gained province. His articles make it evident that he believed he might make new discoveries by exploring the walls, mounds, and enclosures at abandoned locations of old villages in Kohistan. The locals believed they were constructed by Wudwas, the Great of Old People, whose capital was at Saruna, west of the Hab river. He documented local traditions about them, early evidence of his awareness of oral history. Along the route from Karachi to Kotri, Frere examined their tombs, which were erect rings of stone slabs with often linked compartments. He also compiled comparable findings from collectors under his supervision. He added the locations of previous settlements to Captain H.W. Preedy’s map, describing the remnants of ancient cultures “found in great numbers throughout the hilly district which extends along our western frontier” using the well-known British antiquarian words (cairns, cromlechs, barrows).
His fieldwork in the Deccan, particularly in Sind, led him to formulate one of his deepest convictions, which recur frequently in his imperial thought. Like many of his contemporaries, Frere believed that civilised cultures and barbaric and savage institutions developed spontaneously. Some civilisations had not progressed, but others had declined from a level of relative civilisation to something less due to their inability to maintain the necessary restraints of civilised authority. In 1854, he expanded on his theory, stating that the abandoned towns “seem to have belonged to an ancient people who inhabited the hilly districts of Karachi collectorate.” These remnants, which the current residents refer to as “unbelievers’ forts” (Kaffir Kote), are not the only indication that there was once a more settled and civilised population that lived in permanent towns or villages. They must have been far more civilised than the uncivilised shepherds who currently inhabit these valleys, whose customs hardly go back more than a few generations.
In the 1850s, he began to explore his province, which led to a diversification of his subject interests and increased originality. As seen by an article titled “On the Indus, March 19, 1853” that was published by the Geological Society of London, physical characteristics piqued his interest. Frere explored a section of hills on the eastern bank of the Hab using his solid understanding of geology. Their “nummulitic limestone” layers were severely distorted, with the major ridges separated by troughs with alluvial floors that ran parallel to the north-sound trend. The transverse valleys, however, did not appear to have been eroded by water; instead, “I have found in more than one spot unmistakable evidence of such valleys having once been lakes.” Frere also observed evidence of vulcanicity and “huge cracks across the range, the rock on each side appearing little altered since they were rent apart.” Reports on mud craters, geological discoveries found along the route of a new road through the Hab valley, and his “Note on luminous water in the sea between Bombay and Aden” were among the messages he sent to the Bombay Society. He delivered fossils from the Thar and the Rann of Kutch to the Society’s collection, along with chunks of cornelian and seashells from desert settlements that had been abandoned close to Jacobabad. This final “singular tract of country” served as the backdrop for his most extensive physical geography article, in which he described the flat Rann salt plain in terms of the vibrations caused by small but regular earth earthquakes. It demonstrated his close ties to the Royal Geographical Society after 1867 and was presented in front of the organization in February 1870. His fieldwork for it had been completed while he was still in service in Sind; it would have naturally also been published in the Journal of Bombay Society, but between 1857 and 1861, nothing could be published due to the protracted Indian Mutiny issue.
In any event, Frere had less opportunity to pursue such Indian studies after 1859 due to higher-level imperial obligations, though he did compose the preface and notes for a book written by his daughter Mary. She went with him on a three-month tour of the southern Mahratta nation during the chilly season of 1865–1866, while he was the governor of Bombay. They travelled from Poona to Belgaum, travelling 25 miles (40 km) every day by car or horse from camp to camp. They saw what Frere described as several remnants of “powerful and highly civilised Hindu dynasties” throughout the Kistna, where local deities could only be found through oral tradition and needed to be recorded “before they are forgotten as civilisation advances.” He was a particularly active agent of this progress throughout his stay in India, but it is also evident that, in addition to his administrative successes, he had a thorough awareness of the social and physical aspects of the Indian environment. After 1867, this further strengthened Frere’s contribution to the broader discipline of geography.
Frere shared the generally held belief of the time that a geographer’s primary responsibility was to expand knowledge of the planet by exploration. He urged people to work harder as long as there remained areas of the earth’s surface “with the physical features or inhabitants of which our countrymen are still perfectly acquainted” in his Presidential Address, which opened the Royal Geographical Society’s 1873–74 session. He used notable occurrences in British exploration at the time, such as the Challenger expedition, Sir S.W. Baker’s journeys in the Upper Nile, and the relief teams’ search for Livingstone, to bolster his thesis. His Anniversary Address (June 22, 1874), which reviewed the year’s geographical features, makes similar claims. Frere was well acquainted with Livingstone, who dominated the scene by saying, “It will be a long time before one man will be able to open so large an extent of unknown land to civilised mankind,” following his death and the discovery of his documents.
Frere was drawn to geographical exploration because it represented “the vital springs of active national life,” boosting British reputation globally, in addition to opening the way to new scientific research. He thus put in a lot of effort through the Society to get the government to assist in financing exploration, even though each suggestion was seen “as if it were a plot to rob the Treasury.” He backed Francis Galton’s efforts to teach explorers how to document their discoveries and make better geographical observations. Frere also supported Galton’s plans, according to which the organization administered geography exams at the main universities and gave awards to the top students. Frere had stated that geography “certainly ought to be considered a necessary branch of a liberal education” as early as 1869. Political geography, which had to be described as descriptive and historical geography, including the “influence of geographical features and conditions upon the distribution of races and political history of mankind,” was the subject of one test paper. Frere’s acts as proconsul of empire found a lot of common ground with this type of political geography, first in India and later in eastern and southern Africa after 1872. He made a distinction between the political geography of races in terms of their level of civilisation as demonstrated by material culture, laws, traditions, and religious beliefs, and the inherent traits and distribution of races, which he considered to constitute ethnology. The fact that he headed over the British Association for the Advancement of Science’s Geography division during its first separation from Ethnology may have been noteworthy. Because of its methodical ethnology, which “has now such important bearing on political and historical geography in India as well as in other parts of the world,” he applauded the Official Gazetteer of India. He upholds this viewpoint in his own research as well. In his 1872 lecture on “Christianity suited for all forms of civilisation,” he explores the cultural diversity of India’s peoples, separating the “uncivilised” tribal Bhils and Santals from those residing in organised communities—”a great civilised population, as numerous as all the populations of Europe, excluding Russia.” Before the great French Revolution and the explosion of contemporary technological innovation, the inhabitants of Europe were not as evolved in all the skills of social life as they are now. He thought that more study could only broaden Christianity’s missionary field and aid in the abolition of such primitive institutions as slavery, notwithstanding his strong belief in the civilising potential of Christianity.
In terms of political and historical geography, Frere also thought that exploration would reveal new circumstances. He therefore highlighted the potential for new discoveries in areas between British India and the Russian empire, where changes were probably occurring along the Chinese perimeter. China will experience “one of those greatest social movements which in all ages have so powerfully affected the destinies of nations, and the geographical distribution of races” as a result of internal pressures that would cause its enormous population to spread to sparsely populated territories between Assam and Saigon. Frere knew full well that these advancements would have commercial benefits. The Suez Canal’s inauguration may already result in quicker commercial routes connecting the Mediterranean, the Persian Gulf, and India. Bahrein, which was described as “little better than a nest of pirates and slave-dealers,” was being visited by steamships, businesses for agricultural development were operating in the Euphrates Valley, and railroads were being discussed. Future development in southern Africa would be more assured by coal resources for railroads and steamships than by the finding of gold or diamonds. Only “a civilised and settled government to render them of the utmost importance, commercially and politically, to the other nations of the world” was required for the Upper Nile territories that Baker had identified. British expansionism, which brought with it the civilising effects of trade, religion, and governance, was made possible by exploration. This paternalistic dictum was seldom articulated by imperialists with such clarity or conviction. In his capacity as an active geographer, Frere guided the development of policies and persuaded the city government to overcome its innate resistance to such measures. This also occurred in Germany, when geographers joined forces with business associations to force annexations in Africa.
Frere practiced what is now known as applied geography in more focused areas. His presentation on a possible famine in Bengal is an excellent illustration of his deft problem-solving techniques, including maps and figures into his writing. During his tenure as president of the Royal Geographical Society, it was presented to the Society of Arts in December 1873. It started with an evaluation of the statistical information that was essential to resolving the issue. Bengal’s agricultural data were “loosest and most imperfect in India,” making it difficult to estimate the number of people at risk of starving, the amount of grain required to feed them, and the likelihood of food shortages. In an area of 88,000 square miles (228,800 km²), he predicted that 43 million people will suffer from starvation. Although strong winter rains prevented it, Frere’s recommendations for preventive measures, which were based on his own “improvements in protecting the Deccan from famine,” served as a template for future policies. He founded them on the claim that there were no uniquely Indian issues per se; political economics laws applied in India in the same way as they did in England, with the exception that local circumstances had to be taken into account. New approaches had to be used in order to do this effectively during a famine in Bengal. First and foremost, Bengal required a permanent administration created specifically for the province; an integrated internal transportation network; improved irrigation and river navigation; and, lastly, agricultural units had to be registered and valued in order to control a level of modest rack-rents, respecting all vested rights in the land.
Beginning in the 1830s when Frere was Bombay’s Assistant Revenue Commissioner, land reform was a recurring issue in his imperial work. He encouraged broader and more intense farming by lowering assessment rates. In order to benefit from their own improvements, peasant owners were granted a thirty-year assessment; as the population expanded and labour was used for public works projects, roads, and railroads, income rose. Frere implemented the same strategy in Sind, and as a member of the Supreme Council of India in 1859, he urged that the Bengal Rent Act (1859) had to be expanded to the whole country. It restricted rent increases and granted residence rights to peasants who demonstrated possession for a period of twelve years, but its execution was extremely difficult. Frere was in favour of it since it increased the security of the peasantry, who could then cultivate crops to protect themselves from starvation.
When Frere was appointed governor of the Cape in 1877, he tried to apply these ideas to the less accommodating environment of southern Africa using his experience in India as a foundation for comparison. In his 1882 speech to the Anthropological Institute, “On systems of land tenure among aboriginal tribes in South Africa,” he acknowledged the seriousness of the issue that Africa had nothing to match Hindu beliefs of land ownership, tenancy, and usage. However, based on Sir H.S. Maine’s Ancient Law (1861), he had a thorough understanding of tenurial tradition among the Xhosa, Zulu, and Khoi-Khoi (Hottentot) people. Furthermore, he believed that such communal or hierarchical land control was detrimental to the nation, thus this was not only of academic interest to him. Rather, he wanted to establish and expand the right to individual property ownership because he believed that freehold would help the indigenous people become more advanced and “civilised.” Families and clans would need to acknowledge some degree of patriarchal authority, but this would be subject to a supreme sovereign authority. Frere was inspired by the Tswana (Bechuana), who, under the tutelage of the London Missionary Society, had made significant advancements in social, industrial, moral, and religious spheres. They had farms, new homes, waggons, livestock, and crops. Many of them were literate and had obtained property. Here, Frere appeared to be supporting a free, autonomous peasants while the Christianizing mission helped more complex land tenures evolve.
Frere’s fervent support of the missionary groups operating across the empire cannot be disregarded. He claimed in 1869 that they were bringing about “a great moral and intellectual revolution” in India, having a more profound effect on the rural population in addition to the metropolis. Mission stations served as hubs for innovation and as early defenders of European influence; their teachings had an indirect impact on the young Brahmin vaccinators, postmasters, and schoolteachers in the villages. Frere’s engagement with missions also had a role in directing him toward a new line of work in Africa.
He assisted Livingstone in preparing for his last voyage of discovery, which produced a wealth of evidence of the slave trade in East Africa. As a result, he was appointed as Gladstone’s envoy to put an end to the slave trade by sea. After leading a delegation to Zanzibar in 1872, Frere persuaded the Sultan to shut down the slave trade through a contract that was signed in June 1873, not long after Livingstone’s passing. Between Frere’s imperial career’s Indian and African stages, the Zanzibar expedition was a high point.
His geographical description demonstrates his excitement for the new surroundings. At first, he was focused on the Universities’ Mission to Central Africa, which was situated in Zanzibar and, in his judgement, lacked persons of the proper level. “If you could send them a man who has attended your lectures and read your writings on sanitation, he would be invaluable, and he might fill any department of the University Museum and make a European reputation in any branch of physical science,” he wrote to Oxford medical pioneer Dr. Henry Acland. He informed Acland that there was space for six Max Müller and two or three Clarendon Presses before the project could be finished because he was impressed with the linguistic work of the mission’s leader, Bishop Steere, in printing lexicons of Swahili and related dialects. The dynasties that originated in Arabia, Persia, and Shiraz, according to Frere, “all left traces of a great civilising colonialization in the people and languages of the Coasts, till it was blotted out by the Portuguese blight,” could be uncovered through oral tradition by a missionary who was fluent in oriental languages. He had a thorough understanding of the value of scientific and missionary research.
Lastly, Frere had every opportunity to develop theories on the nature of boundaries between “civilised” and “barbarous” regions during his imperial career. There is now a lot of discussion on frontier issues in southern African historiography, particularly the historical connection between borders and racial relations. Frere inevitably got involved in frontier politics and warfare because his time in South Africa fell during a time when mining capitalism was exerting its pressures and because his philosophy as a proponent of forward movement was coupled with the goal of confederation between British colonies and Boer republics. After 1850, when he established “a new province and a new area in these wilds,” he continued to draw upon his early experience of pacifying the western boundary between Sind and Baluchistan. Thirty years later, following his stormy tenure in South Africa from 1877 to 1880, he continued to view the frontier as a place where civilisation and savagery collided. It is possible to cite two of his commandments here. Rather than because of “inordinate pride of race” or an American sense of manifest destiny, he thought that the European presence would unavoidably continue to weaken and replace any indigenous power. Second, one feature of open frontiers in South Africa was the existence of non-governmental organisations operating outside the established borders, which forced the political frontier to adhere to them. These outriders may be traders, explorers, hunters, or missionaries. “Long before a European magistrate has heard of the kraal, or a European soldier sets foot on the soil,” their arrival signifies the end of barbarous dominance. As a result, the government should respond by extending its legal administration beyond the frontier’s boundaries and using political agents to exercise influence beyond it.
Even though his attempts to implement this idea ultimately failed, Frere persisted in thinking it was the correct thing for South Africa. In fact, he was unable to act in any other way given his dedication to confederation. He bemoaned the weakness of previous colonial regimes, which alternated between equally spasmodic attempts to promote the “Bantu Kaffirs'” self-defence and spasmodic harshness against them. All border villages suffered as a result, and European influence was steadily suppressed and there was constant conflict. Frere believed that enforcing justice on both sides of established borders and asserting the Cape government’s authority was the proper course of action. He accomplished this in 1877–1878 by using warfare to close the boundary against the Xhosa, who were resisting. However, his attempt to move on the Zulu in 1879 was unsuccessful. In all of this, he well understood the varied frontier villages’ “swarming” and migratory character. He believed that the Boers’ basic republicanism was more in line with Milton and Hampden than Voltaire and Gambetta, and he appreciated the Xhosa people’s innate intellectual prowess. He compared them to the early Dutch Republic, which was “as far removed from democratic socialism as from Spanish imperialism.” His interactions with the Transvaal burghers, who did not rebel until the end of 1880 after Frere had returned to England, benefited from this expertise. At that point, he was dealing with a “sore temptation to lose heart about India and South Africa, a temptation however successfully to resist.”
There is no denying Frere’s significance in the early years of modern geography; he personifies those who set the groundwork for individuals such as H.J. Mackinder. He accomplished this through his published fieldwork, his enthusiastic advocacy of geographical exploration, and his push for geography to replace geography as a topic taught in schools. Based on the parts that have survived, it seems likely that the book he was writing about South Africa at the time of his death would have treated the country’s physical and political geography in a surprisingly balanced manner. “He was indeed a born geographer,” according to his Indian colleague Sir Richard Temple, who saw geography as both necessary and supplementary to many other fields of study. Frere’s geographical outlook and the way he carried out imperial strategy were closely related. It was evident on a number of levels, including the environmental issues of material innovation and advancement inside imperial provinces, as well as the general confluence of geographical exploration with progressive moves. “Nothing further is now wanted to restore the country to its ancient state of prosperity than to give it its ancient supply of water,” he remarked of Upper Sind in 1851. He implemented the Begari irrigation system. Finding out as much as you can about the class of men Frere belonged to—particularly those who considered themselves geographers—is enlightening, even though the imperial system in which he worked is subject to critical scrutiny.
During his tenure as Bombay’s governor, Sir Bartle Frere focused heavily on the advancement of the Mahratta race. During his two meetings with the gathered sirdars in Durbar, he gave them impassioned speeches urging them to demonstrate in these peaceful times the same zeal that had made their predecessors’ names revered in the past.
As Mr. Frere frequently said, the Rajah of Sattara was one of the most compassionate and enlightened leaders of his day. He gave the resident’s recommendations on topics like education, public works, conservation, etc. a willing ear. In these ways, Sattara was a model city even under the Rajah’s reign. A well-constructed road from Sattara to the Poona Collectorate’s boundary at Neera was one of the public works projects. The construction of this road, overseen by Mr. Smith, an English engineer employed by the Rajah, resulted in the construction of India’s first bridge over the holy Krishna River, which Hindoo believe would soon surpass the Ganges in sacredness. The Brahmins were furious because this bridge allowed unbelievers to cross the river in their distinctive leather shoes, and they always removed their sandals when using it.
The historic city of Bijapur, with its enormous lava walls and numerous mosques, palaces, and tombs, is located on a lush plain about 140 miles from Sattara. One brick dome is bigger than St. Paul’s and the biggest in India.
The Rajah, who had been restored to power by the English in 1818 and had previously been tutored by Captain Grant Duff, had proven to be unfaithful. As a result of his continued intrigue against the government, he was overthrown in 1839 and sent to Banaras as a State prisoner. His brother Shaji, also known as Appa Sahib, proved to be a wise and kind leader who made significant contributions to the advancement of his people. Despite having the beliefs, customs, and superstitions of a Hindoo, he was always loyal to the government and eager to accept guidance and support from the British Resident. This was especially true during the Southern Mahratta War in 1844, when he granted the British troops passage through his territory. He and Frere immediately became friends and had a strong understanding of one other.
The following excerpt from Frere’s memo on the Sattara police, written in December 1847, illustrates how unstable areas of the country were still:
“Large communities of Ramoosies, Mangs, and other castes, whose stated way of life in the previous generation was either robbery or the wages of abstinence from robbery, are mixed in with the Mahratta villages, but they are completely distinct in their locality of habitations and all their religious and social habits. Despite this, they still consider plunder to be their natural occupation under the pressure of poverty. According to the most recent census, there were between fifty and sixty thousand Ramoosies alone, if my memory serves me well. Additionally, there is a sizable floating population of gipsy-like tribes, whose mat houses may be seen outside of every fourth or fifth settlement. While certain tribes are the most resilient of those thieves who regularly and methodically engage in gang robbery, they all have some apparent vocations, but they all periodically survive off of their neighbours.”
The late Colonel Sir Herbert Sandford, R.A., who spent almost all of his time at Sattara as a young artillery officer and was close to Frere, describes the life there as follows: –
“I encountered Frere for the first time in August 1847 when I was sent to Sattara to lead the Bombay Native Artillery Field Battery, which comprised the British garrison together with a battalion of Bombay Native Infantry. I recall being impressed by the Resident’s youthful looks, as well as his soft demeanour and extremely sophisticated and intelligent countenance. As I got to know him more, I also noted his love-like dedication to his young wife, who had shown herself to be so deserving of his devotion both as a wife and, I may honestly say, as a coadjutor in his public and social responsibilities after years of arduous labour and many hardships. I was immediately drawn to Frere because of his fascinating personality. Shortly after, he asked me to research and report on the Rajah of Sattara’s siege and field artillery, which sparked the beginning of our close relationship that lasted for almost forty years. I was named Acting Assistant Resident in April 1848, and I worked under Frere’s supervision until the end of 1850, when he left for Sind. Notable traits included his unassuming yet profound piety, his strong familial attachment, and his kind, giving emotions toward people he honoured with his friendship. Frere’s warm handshake at all gatherings and farewells was only a sign of his generosity. He enjoyed having fun and had a really positive attitude. Frere was incredibly giving and open-minded when it came to money, which is a major measure of a man’s character. The Resident and Mrs. Frere’s hospitality kept us all together even though the society was small back then. The ‘season’ was the monsoon, or wet months, which ran from June to October. Although the life was cheerful, it would be deemed monotonous in the current day of constant excitement. Even though we were less than two hundred miles from the capital of the Presidency, our social interactions were shaped by an early morning ride, friendly gossip around the tea table in the verandah to discuss the contents of the Bombay newspapers, which were typically received at that hour two days old, an occasional picnic at Euteshwur, the Sattara fort, or one of the nearby romantic spots, frequent dinner parties, and an extremely rare ball. Frere also instituted nightly events at the Residency, when European society interacted with the Rajah, his court, and the local aristocracy and gentry. Due to its location on the main route from some of the major stations to Mahabuleshwar, Sattara, Bombay’s sanitarium, saw a lot of passing visitors in May and October, starting with the Governor. At that time, a thirteen-gun salute signalled the arrival of these seasons for the revered Bishop Carr. Rather of following instructions, the most reserved of men, the bishop, would invariably thank the artillery commander as if he were giving a personal compliment. During this time, an unconsecrated structure that had served as a European artillery hospital for thirty years was utilised for divine worship in Sattara. One of Sir Bartle Frere’s most well-known deeds for the welfare of his fellow citizens at Sattara was his initiative and execution of the construction of a magnificent church on a prominent position that was visible to everyone in the surrounding area. The Rajah’s generosity in allocating certain grasslands in exchange for the necessary monies allowed the English inhabitants to have access to an excellent library.”
At Sattara, the succession question was the most important and urgent one at the moment. The Rajah didn’t have any children. He was descended from the great Sivaji, who established the Mahratta dominion over two hundred years earlier, and he represented the ancient Mahratta dynasty. In addition to the pride of race and all the instincts that lead a wealthy and powerful man to leave his inheritance to a chosen heir, there was also a stronger motivation stemming from Brahmin superstition that requires a man who dies without an heir—natural or adopted—to endure a protracted period of purgatorial suffering in order to perform certain obsequies at his funeral.
The Rajah, “his heirs and successors,” were guaranteed Sattara’s sovereignty by the treaties of 1819 and 1839. Does this entail the authority to adopt and include both a natural and adopted heir? It was argued that the English Government regained sovereignty if they failed to do so. It was regrettable that the government had to decide its own case.
On March 21, 1848, Frere writes to the Bombay Governor to let him know that the Rajah is seriously unwell.
“Even though I had an afternoon appointment to see him, he asked that I be sent right away. His Highness was clearly very concerned about himself and was ready to endure excruciating discomfort. He informed me in fragmented syllables that he felt really sick and had a lot to say to me, but it took a long time for our combined efforts to bring him back to any level of normalcy.”
“After telling me that ‘this was the State of Sevaji and Sahoo Maharaja; that it was for the Government who had so long upheld it to take such steps as it saw fit to uphold it still,’ he said, ‘that he committed to the keeping of the British Resident Bulwant Rao Raj Adnega, the boy he had taken under his protection,’ and he made the child put his hands in mine.”
Ten days later, during another visit, Frere discovered that the Rajah was worse.
April 11, 1848
“The son,” says the great Hindoo lawgiver, “delivers his father from the hell called Put. There are, he tells us, different kinds of sons; there is the son begotten, the son given, the son by adoption, and other filial varieties. It is the duty of the son to perform the funeral obsequies of the father. If they be not performed, it is believed that there is no resurrection to eternal bliss. The right of adoption is therefore, one of the most cherished doctrines of Hindooism. In a country where polygamy is the rule, it might be supposed that the necessity for adopting another man’s offspring would be of rare occurrence. But all theory on the subject is belied by the fact that the princes and chiefs of India more frequently find themselves at the close of their lives without the solace of male offspring than with it. The alternative of adoption is one, therefore, to which there is frequent resort; it is a source of unspeakable comfort in life and in death; and politically it is as dear to the heart of a nation as it is personally to the individual it affects …”
“No power on earth beyond a man’s own will can prevent him from adopting a son, or can render that adoption illegal if it be legally performed. But to adopt a son as successor to private property is one thing, to adopt an heir to titular dignities and territorial sovereignty is another. Without the consent of the paramount state, no adoption of the latter kind can be valid,” – Kaye’s “Sepoy Way,” quoted in the Ranee of Sattara’s Memorial.
“He then said he had hoped to have been able to meet the Honourable Governor at Mahabuleshwar, and there to have asked his advice as to the course he should pursue, but that he felt he could not hope to do so now; that he trusted that the same motives which had originally induced the British Government to maintain the throne of Sivaji and Shahoo, would now induce them to consent to let him continue the succession in the usual manner by adoption; … that he had always acted on the assurance that the presence of the British Resident was as though the sovereign was there in person; that he did not feel assured for a day what would happen to him, and he therefore trusted that it would be sanctioned or obtain the Governor’s sanction to the adoption.”
Frere informed him that a matter of this magnitude would need to be referred to the Court of Directors in London, and that the boy he was proposing to adopt was a stranger and a foundling. Frere also emphasised how unfit it would be for someone of low origin, whose dish the Rajah could not eat, to inherit the throne of Sivaji. He immediately acknowledged the impact of this and said that, should he be granted permission to adopt, he would choose a member of Bhonslay’s family after carefully considering the child’s attributes, the purity of his blood, and the predictions derived from his horoscope.
As requested by the Rajah, Frere immediately went to visit the Mahabuleshwar Governor. He had been there for two days when he got an urgent call to come back. He was too late, but he quickly mounted and rode quickly. Feeling that his time was running out, the Rajah went for Dr. Murray, the resident physician, and informed him that he had selected a child from the Bhonslay family to adopt, and that he wanted the adoption to happen in Dr. Murray’s presence.
In vain the doctor, taken by surprise, and shrinking from the responsibility, begged him to await Frere’s return. He shook his head, and saying that no time was to be lost, put pen and paper in the doctor’s hands, bidding him write down in English the exact translation of the words he spoke in Mahratta. He then said, slowly and distinctly, “I have not the slightest hope of living till the Resident’s arrival. I therefore now adopt this boy”- calling him into the room. After a few minutes the ceremony of adoption took place, in the presence of forty or fifty of the Dubar, and lasted about a quarter of an hour. On its conclusion the Rajah was lifted up in bed, and having had a turban put on his head and a shawl thrown him, the adopted son made obeisance to him, and afterwards at his request, ate sugar out of the doctor’s hand, and from the hands of some half-dozen others. Taking Dr. Murray’s hand, the Rajah said, “You must mention to Mr. Frere all that has passed, and all that I said. Mr. Frere must arrange and manage everything after my death; from him all my people are sure to receive justice and kindness.” His words “were now scarcely audible, and shortly afterwards he expired, amid the lamentations, not only of his family and attendants, but also of the numerous assemblages of people who were congregated within and around the precincts of the palace.”
Frere continues the narrative in his formal letter: –
“When I arrived at the palace after dark, a sizable crowd had gathered in the square in front of it, and his Highness’s entire entourage was gathered for a state procession. Mama Sahib Senaputtee, his Highness’s maternal uncle and one of the oldest and most revered of the Sirdars, welcomed me and led me to the gateway, where the corpse was positioned in a sitting position, dressed as in Durbar, and ready to be carried out. The youngster who had been adopted was brought forward once the initial cacophonous display of sadness had subsided. I informed the gathered chiefs that the Governor had expressed his approval of the advice I had given Highness to wait for the Government’s response to his request for permission to adopt, and not to complicate matters by moving forward with any adoption until that response was received; that what had happened was now irreversible, but that I was powerless to acknowledge the act until I received orders from the Government that, in the interim, I was to take charge of the administration and conduct it using the same principles and agency as during Highness’s lifetime, until the Government of India’s decision should be made. They appeared to be very fine with this, with a number of them stating that they had complete faith in the British Government, which was the late Rajah’s closest ally, and were happy to follow its decisions. Then they requested a leave of absence, which I promptly granted so that the parade might continue. This caused the throng to experience another outburst of sadness. The corpse was preceded by the foremost mourner, the adoptive son. After that, Mama Sahib pleaded with me to go upstairs where the Ranees were seated. He took the lead, followed by around twenty of the State’s and the household’s top officials. The woman appeared to grasp what I said as she sat between the two younger Ranees along the wall, wrapped in a shawl, but her dewan repeated everything in her ear as usual. In doing so, I noticed how every phrase that suggested a doubt about the adoption’s recognition was either omitted or changed. Despite how painful it was, I thought it was the less cruel course of action to recapitulate and make sure the Ranees understood the reasons why I was unable to acknowledge the act or commit to the government’s decision on the matter.”
“When His Highness felt unwell in the morning, the Brahmins recommended giving His Highness’s weight in silver as a charitable donation, among other measures taken to try to prolong his life. Fifteen thousand rupees were taken as the probable weight and supplied by His Highness because he was too weak to submit to the standard procedure.”
Sir Herbert Sandford continues the narrative: –
To guarantee the Rajah’s soul rested, the usual gifts to priests were made eight days following the burial. In Hindoo private life, these consist of models of furniture and other items for a few rupees; however, in the Rajah’s case, one or more of every animal or item that the Rajah used was presented. The recipient had only been a Brahmin, and as it was believed that the more precious the gift, the more of the Rajah’s sins the vulnerable presentee had to carry, it was really quite difficult to locate individuals who would take gifts of a more experienced type. Specifically, no one would accept an elephant for a few days until a very holy brahmin who was living a hermit’s life and had a son for whom he needed money was convinced to accept the elephant in exchange for five hundred rupees. The holy man sold the elephant to a Mahomedan after giving it an unfortunate or white mark on its head. European goods, including a pistol, an English carriage, and a pair of horses—the last of which required a gift of three hundred rupees—were also provided to domestic producers. The Rajah’s body was torched during the ritual. In the past, Brahmin widows had also been consumed alongside their husbands’ bodies—sacrifices that the late Rajah had himself outlawed upon ascending to the kingdom. The Resident was seated on a special platform with a number of the camp’s officers, and it thrilled some of the younger military men to see priceless items, like silver bedsteads and attractive riding horses, taken away by the priests in exchange for bags of rupees. If the Rajah were given the carriage, horses, and cannons, one officer was heard to declare that he would forgive all of the Rajah’s transgressions! Three magnificent-looking cows were presented when the ritual came to a finish. The Rajah’s spirit was able to cross three rivers on his trip to Hindoo paradise thanks to their mystical power.”
Frere was given instructions to take command and serve as ad interim Rajah while the Court of Directors made its final judgement regarding the adoption’s approval or rejection and the province’s annexation. The Bombay Government dispatched a soldier unit to assist him. But after learning about it, he immediately took action to have them returned before crossing the Sattara line, preferring to rely solely on moral power.
The official at Sattara at this period is described by Sir H. Sandford as follows: –
“Soon after daybreak we drove or rode to the palace, in the heart of the city, and in a large hall of one of these buildings found assembled the ministers of State, attended by their secretaries… Each minister or head of department had on large sheets of paper with wide margins, précis of all letters or reports received by him. The decision on each subject was written on the margin and initialled by the Resident or his assistant; and letters were then prepared for the minister’s seal, or Mr. Frere’s signature, according to their importance.”
“After two or three hours of this we returned, and for the rest of the day Mr. Frere worked at the Residency, in the forenoon as Resident, and afterwards as Civil Judge disposing of appeals, or as Criminal Judge, trying the cases prepared by me as magistrate. There were upwards of three hundred untried prisoners in the gaol at the Rajah’s death, so that this, with the current criminal work, was of itself enough for any ordinary official. The completion of the trial of these prisoners brought out one of the traits in Frere’s character which must have been often noticed in the larger fields he was soon called to, by the assistants who had the good fortune to work under him- namely, how, in making any reports to Government, he always brought prominently forward the assistance he had received from his staff, even when, as in my case, this was trifling compared with his own share in the work… It may be imagined what a spur to zeal and what a bond of affection was created in the hearts of his assistants when their chief wrote commendation, in such terms, of success which he had in reality been mainly instrumental in creating.”
“Visits to the three widows in the palace, who were continuously pushing the adopted son’s claims and the need for a prompt decision, partly due to their own natural anxiety and partly as mouthpieces of the numerous dependents involved, frequently varied the work of which I have provided a sketch.
In order to avoid giving rise to false expectations that the adoption would be approved or, on the other hand, to crush their hopes and create opportunities for the work of intrigue or even plotting against the Government, in which some of their advisers, as was later shown in 1857, had both the will and the power to involve the Rajah’s family, it was also necessary to exercise the utmost tact when making decisions on many of the questions that came before the Resident.”
When the fair season arrived, Mr. Frere regularly travelled to the regions, putting his colleagues in charge at headquarters. He also prepared all of the yearly income settlements, which were then divided among three officials.
Under the Ryotwarree system, thousands of small landowners were dealt with separately by the revenue officials. Since the majority of the land was rack rented, it was only possible to pay the entire rent in exceptionally special years. There was a huge amount of arrears owed from the ryots because the Rajah’s system only provided tiny permanent remittances rather than exacting complete payments. Afterwards, all of these arrears were eliminated, and the European officers in charge of the districts visited each tenant and signed the cancellation memorandum in the debtor’s book. However, Frere personally made the settlements in both 1848–1849 and 1849–1850, so that only the necessary amount was actually demanded and the remaining amount was immediately waived. In addition to his other ongoing responsibilities, Mr. Frere oversaw the enormous amount of clerical labour needed to determine what this remission should be as well as a general assessment of the crops’ status.
On September 23, 1848, Frere states in his Report to the Bombay Government:
“Any purported lack of equity in the appropriation of his dominions, whether by absorption into the Company’s dominion or by transfer to a rival and antagonistic party, will lack the popularity that a similar measure, regardless of its grounds, would always find among the industrious and peaceful inhabitants of a State delivered from anarchy and oppression because the late Rajah was a just and humane, liberal and popular ruler. Furthermore, as he was praised for his loyalty to and obedience to the British government, the measure will not find the justification that everyone finds for a power to rid itself of a problematic or dangerous neighbour, even via methods they disapprove of.”
The late Rajah’s servants expressed to Frere their desire to build a lasting tribute to him after his passing, demonstrating the reverence with which his memory was treasured. Frere proposed building a marketplace with stone arcades for produce and fruits. The subscriptions totalled so much that not only was this completed, but there was also enough money to build the first tunnel in India, which connected the town of Sattara to a valley that was divided from it by a mountain spur. This created a direct route to the sea coast, as communication had previously been done via a circuitous road.
Due to the critical nature of the case, the adoption decision was long delayed, causing anxiety throughout all of India. It was believed that the outcome of a protracted crisis would determine not just the fate of Sattara and the Sivaji people, but also the fate of several other native states.
Men of the greatest power made up the minority that opposed the annexation of Sattara, even though the majority of those who had a say in the matter supported it. Among those who opposed annexation were Sir George Arthur, the late governor of Bombay; Sir George Clerk, the governor at the time of the Rajah’s death; and the three men who were most qualified to judge: Mount Stuart Elphinstone, who had the primary authority to conclude the treaty in question; Mr. Grant Duff, who actually concluded it; and Frere himself.
(Sir T. E. Colebrooke, in his life of Mountstuart Elphinstone, says, “I do not remember ever to have seen Mr. Elphinstone so shocked as he was at this proceeding. The treatment of the Sattara sovereignty as a jageer, over which we had claims of feudal superiority, he regarded as a monstrous one; but any opinion of the injustice done to this family was subordinate to the alarm which he felt at the dangerous principles which were advanced, affecting every sovereign State in India, and which were put forward both in India and at home.”
Mr. Elphinstone, in a letter on the question, says, “The succession, I conceive, was an internal affair, in which the British Government could not interfere, unless in a case which might affect the foreign relations of the State or the general tranquility of the country. This, I conceive, was the general impression in India when I was in that country. There was no native State to which the recognition of its succession by the British Government was not of the highest importance; but none of them, I conceive, ever imagined that that the Government had a right to regulate the succession as feudal lord, or had any pretentions to the territory as an escheat on the failure of heirs to the reigning family,” “Life of the Hon. Mountstuart Elphinstone,” by Sir T.E. Colebrooke, Bart., M.P., vol. ii. pp. 390, 392)
After a protracted and heated discussion, a majority of the Court of Directors ultimately voted, thirteen months after Rajah’s death, to reject the adoption and annex the country in line with Lord Dalhousie’s view.
Even though Frere had strong feelings about the matter, he was acutely aware of the need for the decision, whatever it might be, to be faithfully supported and carried out by the Company’s employees. He was so careful not to voice any opinion that might be known to the people of Sattara that even the widowed Ranee, who was most concerned, was unaware of his stance until 25 years later, when the matter was reopened. He writes in private to Mr. G.T. Clark:
“One of Sir George Clerk’s last acts was to propose that the adoption of a son by the late Rajah should be respected, and his colleagues voted against it. Pendente lite I was told to administer the Government so as to be prepared for either Rajah or Company. For twelve months the question was discussed, and finally decided against the adoption. I battled hard, believing the absorption to be a gross breach of the treaty made by Mr. Elphinstone; Mr. Elphinstone thought so too; and the opinions of Sir J. Malcolm, Lords Clare and Ellenborough, Sir R. Grant, Sir J. Carnac, and Sir G. Arthur, were all, I believe, the same way; but – and – prevailed, and there is an end of the House of Sivaji. We will eventually be held accountable for this unethical business. But I’m made fun of by everyone for this. I wish they were correct. In order to drill the 13,20,000 Mahrattas to regulation, Lord Falkland says he intends to maintain me in my position as Commissioner. Naturally, I will do my hardest, but I am aware that the outcome must be dismal unless the government takes significant action to develop the country’s resources, which I am certain they won’t. I have maintained peace so far, but I doubt I will be able to do so in the future. All of this pertains to your private ear.”
Ad interim Rajah was no longer appointed by Frere once Sattara was annexed. It became a British province after that, with a commissioner in charge. It was reasonable to assume that the first Commissioner would be chosen from among those who had supported the move rather than those who opposed it. The Bombay Government was commended because it remained unaffected by such factors. The transfer that needed to be made was a delicate, if not hazardous, task that required determination, tact, and understanding of the Mahrattas’ customs and sentiments in it to be completed without disruption or violence. Nobody combined these credentials to the same extent as Frere, and this was acknowledged and felt.
He took the position without even thinking twice. Although he had been powerless to stop the annexation, he might at least try to minimise the aggravation. His cordial personal ties to the late Rajah’s family would continue, as would practical administrative issues that would ease tensions.
Frere established municipalities, the first in India, to raise money for village roads, wells, bridges and other infrastructures. With the government’s approval, he eliminated a number of petty and onerous taxes on homes and commerce, provided that the town or village kept the least offensive fees, such as octroi, for local needs. Over the course of a year or two, every town and big village had its own municipal fund and demonstrated the benefits of the work done in the areas of comfort, convenience, cleanliness, and health. Municipalities were partially elected and partially nominated.
Throughout his whole career, Mr. Frere demonstrated his statesmanship most prominently by advocating for public works. There were no roads in the province other than the one from Sattara to Mahabuleshwar and the roads already described to the Poonah boundary and Sattara itself. Roads and bridges were rapidly built in the cities and villages of the municipality. However, thousands of Brinjarrie bullocks travelled along mountain trails as part of the heavy commerce that was already present between the province and the shore below the Ghauts. In some way, Mr. Frere managed to devise a plan for major arterial roads across the nation. Some of these roads were started during his lifetime, but all of them have subsequently been built following the lines he established, albeit at some cost, with fantastic outcomes in terms of opening the province to cart traffic.
Amid these constructive efforts, of which the foregoing is only a sketch, Mr. Frere was named Commissioner of Sind at the expense of Sattara but to the benefit of the greater province. There are no adequate words to express how the guy was affected by the sadness of both the locals and his European friends and employees. One might claim that he had watched men of both countries crying, and years later, when Sir Bartle was ready to return home at the Cape of Good Hope, he saw the English and Dutch displaying the same emotion once more.
Even though Mr. Frere left Sattara a few years prior to the mutinies, the events of these days demonstrated his foresight regarding the negative effects on the populace of the Rajah’s refusal to approve the adoption of a son. They also demonstrated that there would likely have been significant unrest in 1848–1849 if Frere hadn’t carried out a highly unpopular measure in a firm but accommodating manner. Because the means, the personnel, and the wish were all readily available, but they were managed by his wisdom and tact. A weaker man might have been happy to avoid accountability by ruling with the support of powerful battalions when the Government of Bombay sought to strengthen the British garrison at Sattara following the annexation, but Frere was a harsher and more dependent person, and his confidence was well-founded.
A Mahratta in the Native Artillery at Sattara, which was mostly made up of Oude high caste soldiers, informed Sir H. Sandford in June 1857 of an impending rebellion and uprising. The quick relocation of the battery to the island of Perim, close to Aden, stopped it. According to Sir H. Sandford, the conspiracy turned out to be strong and wide-ranging:
“was gradually traced to the two palaces, containing the adopted son of the ex-Rajah and last Rajah of Sattara. The former was a mere tool in the hands of his adoptive mother the ex-Ranee, who was a woman much resembling the Ranee of Jhansi, equally bloodthirsty, determined, and able. She was removed with her son to confinement near Bombay, on which occasion the great quadrangle in front of the palaces, where such a dramatic event took place at the Rajah’s death, witnessed a very different scene. While still dark on a monsoon morning, I led, by the directions of Mr. Rose, the magistrate, a body of troops under the command of General Sir G. Malcolm, consisting of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, into the city, where, just as the day was breaking, we surrounded the palace of the ex-Ranee, known to contain many armed retainers. The family were at once despatched in carriages to Bombay, relays of dragoons and horses being, and as the last of his race was being driven through the city, two devoted servants tried to accompany the carriage, bearing the ‘moorchubs’ or emblems of royalty. A dragoon on each side of the carriage snatched these emblems from the servants’ hands, and threw them on to the roofs of the houses which they were then passing. It was a most significant token of the passing away of an old dynasty…”
“Year afterwards I was assured by a distinguished official, who had been visiting Sattara with special reference to old family connections, that he found the anti-English feeling stronger there than in any other part of India, and this not from the people disliking our rule per se, but owing to resentment at the recognition of the adoption, which Frere so strongly urged, not having been made.”
