Earlier that year the Junior Maharani had also left Travancore on a tour, ostensibly to find a new tutor for her son (and the expenses of these trips were another subject of disagreement between her and Sethu Lakshmi Bayi who never left the state during all her years in power). While the Resident had intelligence that she was again making an effort to submit a memorial to the Viceroy,59 what interested him more were details of a meeting she had in Madras with some influential individuals who, she felt, might aid her in her mission. At a garden party thrown by the Junior Maharani, she met with two newspaper editors, Rangaswami Iyengar of The Hindu and one Mr Ramaseshan of the Daily Express. Sethu Parvathi Bayi began by lauding the latter for the interest his paper had been taking in Travancore, adding that she ‘hoped he would not hesitate to criticise the present state of affairs’.60 When the man said that everything was ‘all that it should be’ as far as he could see, the Junior Maharani darkly observed how ‘From a distance that may be so, but at close quarters, from the inside, things have never been so bad.’61 She then made an attempt to ‘exact a promise of adopting a policy to attack the present administration and press for a drastic change’ from both editors. Iyengar, reportedly, did not show any interest, while Ramaseshan refused to join because of his ‘lofty sense of duty and responsibility’.62
As it happened, it was Ramaseshan himself who conveyed all this information to the Dewan and the Resident at the first opportunity he got, hoping that a financial contribution to his paper might follow as a reward. That was not to be, but his claims were ‘singularly corroborated’ by other sources, so that some worry was caused about what transpired. The idea was allegedly to project the Regent as ‘gentle; wrapped up in home and children; practically gone into retirement; and wholly uninterested in the world or the State—and more absurdities. The stupidity,’ Mr Watts remarked, ‘I have made clear to Ramaseshan.’ Then there was the Valiya Koil Tampuran who was the ‘actual Ruler of Travancore’ who had ‘bought up the Dewan, who terrorises the officers; and so on.’ Then came Mr Watts who was to be painted as quite ‘unfitted for a big job’ who ‘meekly submits to the Consort’ and was ‘nothing more than a signing machine’. Even Mr Cotton was not spared and was accused of being ‘hand-in-glove’ with the Valiya Koil Tampuran, while humiliating the Junior Maharani and her son.63 The intended memorial recommended that Mr Watts should not be given an extension of tenure and that a Council of Regency ought to be set up as soon as possible in Travancore. Evidently, the conspirators even discussed names of potential members on the Council, with old Sir Vasudeva Rajah and the brother of the editor of The Hindu being offered for duty.64 As usual, however, nothing came of these intrigues and although the Junior Maharani was ‘very well pleased with the success of the tour’, the Regency carried on and she was not a step closer to attaining her goals.65
Perhaps it was failure with political schemes that prompted partisans of the Junior Maharani to embark upon an unusual and positively bizarre strategy next in 1929: black magic. This was not the first time that such means were contemplated in the Travancore court. It was through black magic, many held, that Sankaran Tampi obtained his arresting control over the late Mulam Tirunal. Others whispered that Sethu Lakshmi Bayi’s miscarriage in 1909 and subsequently also had sorcery behind it. The Junior Maharani’s mother, Kochukunji, was known to dabble in black magic against Sethu Lakshmi Bayi, and the Resident recorded how she had ‘had various objects, such as a bracelet, buried under the threshold of the Maharani Regent’s door at the latter’s Palace’.66 This had occurred when the Junior Maharani was on tour recently, and although Sethu Lakshmi Bayi knew of this, neither she nor the Resident made much of it, dismissing the whole thing as first-class nonsense. But employment of black magic to destroy enemies was evidently popular enough as to deserve fairly generous descriptive space in the Travancore State Manual (1906):
A very favourite form of kshudraprayogam (working evil with the aid of the low genie) is the burying of an earthen pot under the threshold of the house of the person who is the object of hatred. The pot is filled with human hair, flowers, charcoal, bones &c., and a small silver, brass, or copper plate inscribed with a diagram containing mystic letters to which puja has been made for a number of days, is always added, and sometimes an effigy of the victim as well. If the victim crosses or recrosses the threshold a number of times, it is believed that he will either be destroyed or paralysed for life or subjected to other incurable maladies.67
Kochukunji may well have consulted this official publication, and apparently the procedure could cost as little as Rs 28, with prices varying according to the extent of harm intended for the victim. However, the incident with the bracelet under Sethu Lakshmi Bayi’s door was merely the understated initiation of a more elaborate scheme. It began when the Junior Maharani was in Calcutta where she evidently received a newspaper cutting stating that the Regency was expected to continue for another six years, which meant her son would receive his full powers only in 1935. ‘This is believed to have decided her to try to put an end to the present Regency’ through these sinister and remarkably dubious methods. She ordered Rs 2,000 to be wired to her brother in the palace, raising suspicion among her staff; generally the Junior Maharani was tight-fisted towards her siblings and the order now ‘was so contrary to [her] parsimonious disposition’.68 Around the same time intelligence was also received that Kochukunji was in correspondence with certain Brahmins in north Travancore who specialised in dark magic, spurring the initial gossip on the subject, even before the Junior Maharani had completed her tour.69
Soon after she returned to the capital, however, the aides de camp of the little Maharajah, one Kalinga Rayar and Goda Varma, reported that ‘something sinister was afoot’ and ‘about a dozen’ priests had been summoned to the palace for a twelve-day ceremony.70 Through the palace physician, Krishna Pillai, it was found that precisely Rs 2,000 had been paid to the head priest, and that an additional (and princely) Rs 50,000 was promised by an unwritten ‘contract’, with the honour of a courtesy call to the priest’s home by the Maharajah, should the ceremonies prove effective.71 All of this, however, was little more than outlandish hearsay for the Resident, until the Junior Maharani herself brought it up in conversation. She told Captain Harvey, her son’s tutor, how she had arranged for a religious ceremony to ‘counteract the influence of certain stars’ in her horoscope, and that during the twelve days of the puja, she would be unable to see him. And then, just as suddenly as she brought up the topic in the middle of their discussions on a completely different subject, she dropped it too.72 The ceremonies commenced and details were reported to the Government of India:
Either nine or eleven Nambutiri Brahmins have been housed in the Palace in strict secrecy for some 10 days past; their names are not known even to the Palace servants, and their wants are administered to by only two servants, one of whom is the servant of the [Maharajah’s] uncles. The granite floor of the old Palace has been lifted and a square hole has been made in the bare earth. Ghee has been specially imported from North Travancore in far greater quantities than would be required for consumption. A maidservant has admitted to [Dr Krishna Pillai] that daily some 20 to 25 rats have been caught and handed over to the Nambutiries. The orthodox ADC [Goda Varma], himself a Sanskrit scholar and philosopher, knows of no Hindu puja which demands this sacrifice, unless it be for some sinister purpose.73
Incidentally, the Dewan received information around this time that for black magic of this variety, ‘a human sacrifice was a desideratum,’ and that there could be ‘attempts to procure a child for this purpose’.74 Coincidentally, only two days later the child of a servant employed by a certain Narayana Menon suddenly went missing, but was quickly traced with three unidentified men on the road to Kowdiar Palace. Upon being apprehended they gave flight75 but the boy mentioned how he was beguiled by a promise of sweets if he went with them.76 To add to these mysterious happenings, it was then reported by Captain Harvey that the Maharajah had, during lessons
, raised a few questions about the effects of black magic and ‘his almost excited belief in its efficacy is not to be doubted’.77 On questioning the Maharajah why he was suddenly so interested in such a subject, Harvey discovered that he was aware of the puja and displayed ‘some fear’ and it was clear ‘that he knows it is sinister in some degree or other’.78
The ‘orthodox’ ADC Goda Varma also overheard some of the mantras being recited and promptly reported that ‘either madness or death is intended for the person against whom the puja is being held’.79 The manager of the Maharajah’s retinue, Subramania Iyer, was also perplexed; normally he was informed about functions in the palace, and indeed it was he who made necessary arrangements. But this time he had been kept entirely in the dark.80 It was also a matter of suspicion that the Junior Maharani, ‘never backward in making demands of money’, did not this time apply to use Civil List funds, using instead her personal money.81 All in all, it was clear that something peculiar was transpiring at Kowdiar Palace, and it had little to do with maligned stars in the Junior Maharani’s horoscope. ‘Whatever we Europeans may think about “black magic”,’ the Resident noted, ‘there is no doubt that what has been going on has very seriously affected the Palace’ and, in what was worrying, ‘is beginning to be known outside that circle’.82
By this time Mr Cotton had retired as Resident in Travancore and it was a Lt Col Charles Gilbert Crosthwaite who took up the post, with the current happenings being his maiden initiation into local intrigues. He was not, however, a novice, having previously been the Resident in Gwalior. Here too there were two warring Maharanis with a minor Maharajah; the Senior Maharani was the childless widow of the last ruler, while the Junior Maharani was the mother of the heir. The former was a ‘warm and engaging woman, popular alike with officials and sardars’ while the latter was ‘a strong-willed woman, prickly over questions of protocol, and given to fits of temper and prolonged bouts of sulks whenever she felt that her wishes were thwarted’ and who resented the Senior Maharani.83 Mr Crosthwaite, then, was no stranger to the machinations when royal women set themselves against each other, and could take a clear view of things. His concern about happenings in Kowdiar Palace, thus, were not about the effects of the sorcery under way but other more human possibilities:
… there is not unnatural fear lest the very heavy reward [of Rs 50,000] for favourable results might lead to poison being administered or other direct actions taken by the priests to implement the [promises made through] magic rites. In fact the responsible officers of the Junior Maharani’s palace are afraid of some terrible catastrophe for which they may be held partly liable, and His Highness’ Private Secretary, a retired Brahmin Dewan Peishkar [Subramania Iyer], has suddenly taken leave of absence, which is ascribed to a fear of these doings. I understood from Harvey and Kalinga Rayar that Mr Watts has had an interview with the Maharani Regent and has informed her of what is taking place.84
The information received from palace sources was that the precise objective of the ceremonies was ‘to end the present Regency by the death of Her Highness the Maharani Regent’ and to keep the young Maharajah ‘in temperamental subjection to his mother and her family as long as possible’ by causing ‘mental derangement’ so that he could be dominated and ‘his mother may become the Regent’.85 ‘A precedent of the efficacy of such pujas,’ mentioned Mr Crosthwaite, ‘is alleged in the case of the Junior Maharani’s husband, who is somewhat mentally deficient,’ with his condition being ‘ascribed to the Junior Maharani’s machinations’.86 While this was all held to be irrational nonsense, what concerned the Resident, the tutor and the ADCs was the unusual nearness of the Maharajah to his maternal uncles, for these brothers of the Junior Maharani ‘bear by no means good characters’.87 It was also clear that they were the ‘instigators of the puja’ and the boy had to be somehow extracted from their negative influence.88 To Mr Crosthwaite there was ‘no doubt’ at all that ‘the Junior Maharani’s family—her mother included—are a thoroughly bad lot’. The ‘Junior Maharani herself,’ he added, ‘I am afraid bears none too good a character and there are more than one or two scandals regarding her, which, however, I perhaps need not repeat here.’89
It was then decided to expel the uncles of the Maharajah from Kowdiar Palace and for this, the Resident asked Mr Watts to arrange for them to be sent to meet with him in Peermade. This alarmed the Junior Maharani who sent her secretary to see Mr Watts and find out what Mr Crosthwaite had in mind. He reassured the secretary that he probably merely wished to speak to them in person so that things could be settled ‘quietly and informally’.
I also told [him] that the Junior Maharani might seriously consider terminating those secret ceremonies … immediately, and even before they would ordinarily conclude. To this he remarked that it was not at all impossible. Similarly, I also said Her Highness might consider whether it would not be advisable for her to forestall any formal advice or instructions to that effect by spontaneously preventing her brothers from going to Kowdiar Palace or otherwise having access to the Maharajah … [The secretary] agreed with me that it is very undesirable that these Uncles should associate with His Highness … [Even the ADCs] were emphatically of the opinion that the three brothers who had practically taken possession of Kowdiar Palace should be kept out of the place, and should not have any access at all to the Maharajah.90
But despite instructions from the Resident for the brothers to see him as soon as possible, it took a number of days and another set of urgent telegrams for them to at last arrive on 25 February. In his report on the meeting to the Dewan, Mr Crosthwaite included minutes of the conversation he had had with all three men. In rather firm words without beating too much around the bush he made it clear that
I do not wish to trouble the Junior Maharani by having to write for definite instructions to the Government of India that you are not to go to the Palace, and I hope you will carry out my wishes. This is a serious matter and if I have to bring it to the Government of India’s notice, it then remains on record, and I am sure that the Junior Maharani would not wish any record should remain with the Government of India, that you or your mother or your sisters should not go to the Palace, and particularly the old lady, your mother. I hope you quite understand that you are not to go to the Palace without first of all getting an invitation from the Junior Maharani, and my approval.91
Through all this Sethu Lakshmi Bayi, despite being one of the alleged victims of the ceremonies being held, had not betrayed too much concern. She may not have been surprised, given the previous attempts at black magic by Kochukunji, and all the stories she had heard for years. But in this particular case, she was happy that the sixteen-year-old Maharajah was not involved in scheming against her. ‘Her Highness does not seem to be unduly worried about the matter’ and in fact ‘seemed pleased’, noted the Resident, ‘when I informed her that His Highness the Maharajah in all probability was unaware of the exact object of the puja’.92 She was, however, perturbed by the attitude taken by Mr Watts. Despite express orders that the Junior Maharani’s brothers be sent to see the Resident before 23 February, so as to prevent completion of the puja, the Dewan, who had also thought it acceptable to go on holiday to Ponmudi, arranged for them to reach two days late, by which time all the ceremonies had concluded. Later when the Junior Maharani wrote to the Resident to ask if one of her sisters could continue to stay in the palace, Mr Watts sympathised officially, so that Sethu Lakshmi Bayi curtly wrote to him how ‘I can think of no instance in the past when the Dewan interceded with the [Resident] in a personal matter of the Junior Maharani’s’.93
The Junior Maharani, in the meantime, was incensed by the order to have her family expelled from Kowdiar Palace, and came out with a vehemence against all of her staff who had passed on information to the Resident. Her principal grievance was against the tutor, Captain Harvey, asking in an interview with Mr Crosthwaite if he would put up with such insubordination and backstabbing by one of his staff.94 The Resident, who had deci
ded to close the black magic episode without a formal inquiry, consequently found himself in a difficult position to discuss the reason for Harvey’s concern openly with the Junior Maharani. It was she, in fact, who decided to bring up the subject and in her conversation with him ‘she mentioned the “rumour” of the Black Magic Puja and pooh poohed the idea, saying how could such things be in the twentieth century!’95 She also admonished the Resident with a polite threat for taking action against her brothers. ‘I feel confident,’ she elaborated, ‘that on reflection you will perceive the wisdom and expediency of personal and confidential discussions on such matters with me before advising or acquiescing in any action. I therefore have purposely refrained from formally addressing [the Viceroy].’96 It was an empty threat, as Delhi was already contemplating action that was to be hugely unpalatable to Sethu Parvathi Bayi.
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