The name Sadras popped up during a casual conservation with a friend and ever since then it lurked in my memory. Just like the marauding Mongol Chenghiz Khan who travelled and plundered all over Central Asia, I too had made repeated visits to the Coromandel Coast, though material loot was not what I had in mind. Rather, I had discovered many a quaint town. Yet, Sadras had eluded me. Which is why, trying to set the equation right, on a hot, muggy day, I headed out to the ECR to make my acquaintance with the Dutch fort and cemetery at Sadrangapattinam or Sadras, as the English liked to call it.
Shortly after Mahabalipuram, a signboard proclaimed Kalpakkam (yes, the very place where the atomic power station is located) and I vaguely recalled that Sadras was located close by. On making enquiries, we were glad that we had stumbled onto the very bifurcation that would take us to our destination. And before long, a modest sign displayed the words “Dutch fort and cemetery”. As we drove to the fort entrance, its crumbling appearance gave it an air of neglect and abandon. We marched up to the main gate, separated from the outer gate by a couple of metres and saw that it was open. Here, two mounted cannons greeted us. There was also a charming watchtower, painted in white.
We opened the gate and stepped inside. At once, we noticed the cemetery to our left, the door to which was locked. We wondered what to do when a gentleman materialised from somewhere and offered to show us around. He was he told us, not without a certain amount of pride, the monument attendant Karunakaran, employed with the Archeological Survey of India (ASI). The fort and cemetery here are maintained by them. At least, there would be someone to show us around, we thought.
We stepped inside and saw a dozen-odd marked graves, all neatly and simply laid out. Quite unlike the bizarre Dutch tombstones we had seen at Pulicat or Pazhaverkadu. In his smattering English, he pointed out to us a double-decker kind of grave that contained three bodies, all belonging to one family. Close to this was the grave of a dog while another had the picture of a ship inscribed on it — a seafarer perhaps? “Look, this grave has the name Sadrangapattinam written on it,” he said, pointing to a grave a couple of feet away. We had just his word to take as it was all written out in Dutch.
Anyway, we nodded respectfully. We looked at the graves and wondered about how it felt dying in foreign lands when Karunakaran hastened to tell us that the relatives of the deceased often turned up to visit them, many of them coming from Pondicherry and Delhi. Barely had we digested this information when he beckoned to us and led us through a chamber of sorts that was connected to the cemetery. Inside, we saw that one part of the roof had caved in but what was significant about the place was that it opened out into a secret tunnel that led to the sea. Apparently, it was used as a pathway by people and also to transport goods. At once, the entire scenario began to play out in front of me…. I imagined ships docking in the middle of the night, filled with merchandise, pirates brandishing blades. The imagery was cut off when Karunakaran announced that the secret tunnel had been closed by the government.
As we walked, he filled us in with the history of the place. The 400-year-old Dutch fort functioned as an important centre of trade, chiefly to manufacture the superfine muslin cloth. Sadras had a well-maintained port even before the arrival of the Dutch. And, of course, it was the English who booted them out of there, after a series of battles, in 1854. At this very place was fought the battle of Sadras. Being a history buff, I devoured all this information hungrily.
Now we were onto the sandy path that bifurcated the fort into two parts. “There, that is where they used to behead criminals,” he said pointing to a run-down structure and accompanying it with a corresponding gesture. I looked at it, fascinated and frightened at the same time. Next to it was a church in complete ruins. Ah, penalty and redemption side by side! Just a few feet ahead lay a massive dome-shaped structure. It had our guide informed us, been repaired recently. The structure opened into a skylight (like that of ancient south Indian homes) and appeared airy and cool. The Dutch used it as a warehouse/granary. Opposite this, on the other side of the sandy stretch was a replica of the same structure that we just saw except that the front portion was in ruins.
It was getting to be evening now and Karunakaran exhibited great haste, making us literally run to keep up with him. Pointing to a corner, he intoned, “That is where the Dutch had their bar and recreation room” and I saw in my mind’s eye not the ruins that lay before me but nattily dressed gentlemen and dainty ladies conversing over the tinkle of glasses accompanied by merry, joyous laughter.
My reverie was cut short when he urged us to climb the steps that lay ahead of us. Now whereto I wondered. And then, we were at a point from where the entire fort lay stretched out before us — from the dilapidated fort walls to the cemetery to the run-down structures within the fort. And then we gasped in joy, for, on the other side of the fort lay the sea, a vast expanse of blue, glinting in the evening sun. Perhaps, many like us had experienced the same amount of joy. “Those days”, said Karunakaran, the fort was within a stone’s throw away from the sea.
The tour had, yeah, ended. And then he whispered, “Come with me, I have to show you something”. Quickly we retraced our footsteps and went to the opposite end of the cemetery where there was another chamber. Similar to the one we had seen at the start of our tour, it now housed the MA. He led us inside and showed us the delicate delft blue pottery that had been used by the Dutch people, which unfortunately was broken.
We gave him a generous tip after which he freshened up and gently urged us out of the premises. We then saw him hurrying after the honking bus. That explained his rush. As for us, we were in no hurry to leave the place. We lingered for some more time and then left the place but not before casting one last glance at the place that had functioned as an important centre of trade, not to mention a significant legacy left behind by the Dutch.
— sunitarag@gmail.com