CHENNAI: In August of 1862, Munsook Doss filed a case against PC Rungiah Chitty for selling him 1,800 bags of sub-grade cotton. He asked for a compensation of `5,700, a large sum at the time, and this was honoured by the Madras High Court, known then as the High Court of Judicature at Madras.
The original document and letters sent by Munsook Doss, now yellowed and frayed at the edges, are now available at the Madras High Court Museum, located on the premises. The museum can be accessed through Gate No. 5, located on Esplande Road, opposite the LIC building.
Temple of justice
A replica of a 1800s courtroom, with original wood furniture from the time, preserved and refurbished, lies in the middle of the museum. A curved table with seven chairs stands before the desk reserved for the Chief Justice and senior judges, with functioning lamps and clocks from the time. “T Muthuswamy Iyer, the first Indian judge, would remove his footwear before entering the courtroom as he regarded the court to be a temple of justice. He came from abject poverty, and studied under the street lights. He climbed up through the ranks in the judiciary,” said N L Rajah, a senior advocate and member of the High Court Heritage Commission. A portrait of Iyer, painted by artist Rajah Ravi Varma from the Government Museum, welcomes visitors.
Built by architect Nalini Radhakrishnan, the museum also contains documents, furniture and various trinkets preserved from the bygone era. “I built this museum in six weeks. We made all the fixings, the boards and the display cases. We also had to reupholster all the furniture, which were in bad shape,” explained Nalini. Charters from the 1700s, 1800s and 1900s have also been preserved in large, soft-bound books. A replica of the Chief Justice’s chambers, with a large wooden chair, table and divan, can also be seen.
British babu, Indian vakils
On September 4, 1801, a warm Friday morning, Sir Thomas Strange was appointed as the first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Judicature at Madras. Interestingly, the Madras High Court was called the Supreme Court of Judicature at Madras, but this was in name only, as all three Presidencies had Supreme Courts. The Madras High Court got its current name on August 15, 1862, when Sir Colley Haarman was the Chief Justice, incidentally the only man to be the Chief Justice of both the Supreme Court and High Court of Madras.
“Did you know that when Sir Arthur Collins, the then-Chief Justice of India, was not sure whether to accept a piece of evidence, he adjourned the court, and asked Muthuswamy Iyer his opinion? They were close friends, and upon Iyer’s suggestion, he accepted that evidence. He respected Indian vakils, and upon his death, The Madras Vakils’ Association held a protest, requesting suspension of court activities to honour his death,” said T Krishnamoorthi, curator of the museum.
British barristers were unhappy with the steady rise of Indian vakils. “The average British babu working in the High Court got `4,000 per year. They worked from January to April, collected their handsome salaries and went back to Britan, and then came back in September, before returning to England for Christmas.As more laws were set in place, there were more cases, and Indian vakils were rising through the ranks,” said Rajah. Vakils were forced to wear a tunic and a turban while British babus would wear robes. It was only after a long struggle, they were finally allowed to wear gowns, shoes and socks. Interestingly, the affluence of an advocate was judged by the number of ear piercings and rings he wore, shared Rajah.
Beyond the classroom
“Our objective is to open the museum for children. They can come for a two-hour visit, and learn about our history. It is unfortunate that no school teaches you why you should uphold the law. We hope to have a steady stream of students into the museum,” said Rajah. The museum is open for all members of public free of cost.
A mysterious room
The construction of the High Court Lighthouse began in 1844, and was completed four years later. The second lighthouse constructed by the British, it is 135-feet tall and was given a makeover and inaugurated last year. The lighthouse’s spiral staircase has 197 steps to the top, and the caretaker explains that you begin to get dizzy and claustrophobic after crossing step number 90, after which looking down is highly not recommended. The three rooms in the bottom were reconstructed by the Public Works Department and has various hangings designed by Nalini with information on noteworthy Chennai-based advocates. The fourth room was sealed a long time ago and it is difficult to open without compromising on the lighthouse’s base. Nobody knows what is inside the room, or why it was closed.
Farewell tea party
When Justice Sundaram Chetti left his post to V KumaraSwami Sastri after only holding the post for two-and-a-half months, a tea party was arranged to bid him adieu. “It is unusual for vakils to agree on any one topic but in the case of Sundaram Chetti, the entertainment was resolved upon unanimously,” wrote TR Ramachandra Iyer, the then-President of the body.