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186 posts categorized "South Asia"

19 October 2015

The Cat and the Rat: a popular Persian fable

Stories about animals have universal appeal, as demonstrated in our current exhibition Animal Tales. In the West the best known are probably Æsop’s fables. Less well known are the Fables of Bidpai, a collection which can perhaps be regarded as Æsop’s distant cousin several times removed, first published in English in 1570 as The Morall Philosophie of Doni [1].

The story of the lion and the rat, from Esbatement moral des animaux. Anvers, [1578] (British Library C.125.d.23, f12)
The story of the lion and the rat, from Esbatement moral des animaux. Anvers, [1578] (British Library C.125.d.23, f12)  noc

On display is the story of the lion and the rat from Esbatement moral des animaux, a 16th century retelling of one of Aesop's best known fables. The story tells how a mouse (or rat) was caught by a lion, but allowed to escape. Later, the lion was trapped by hunters. Hearing its roars, the mouse repaid the lion’s good turn and set it free by gnawing through the net, the moral being that a small creature can help a greater and that mercy brings its own reward.

In this post I will look at some parallel examples in Persian literature which are related to the Fables of Bidpai, stories told within a frame narrative by the brahmin Bidpai to the king Dabashlim. Although they owe their origin to India where they are best known as the Panchatantra, it is largely through the Arabic translation by Ibn al-Muqaffaʻ (died c. 757) of a lost Middle Persian (Pahlavi) version that they have become known in the West. The story, as told in the Arabic and Persian versions, describes how the Sasanian king Anushirvan (Khusraw I, r. 531-579) heard of a book treasured by the kings of India which had been compiled

from the speech of animals and brutes and birds and reptiles and savage beasts; and all that befits a king in the matter of government and vigilance, and is useful for princes in the observance of king-craft, is exhibited in the folds of its leaves, and men regard it  as the stock of all advice and the medium of advantage. (Kāshifī, via Eastwick, p. 6)

Anushirvan sent his physician Burzuyah on a mission to India to discover the book and Burzuyah returned with a copy which he translated into Pahlavi. The stories were re-translated into Arabic and Syriac, and then from Arabic into Persian and other languages.

Burzuyah presents King Anushirvan with the book of Bidpai. Mughal, ca. 1605 (Add.18759, f. 6r)
Burzuyah presents King Anushirvan with the book of Bidpai. Mughal, ca. 1605 (Add.18759, f. 6r).  noc


Naṣr Allāh Munshī’s
Kalīlah va Dimnah
Apart from a few single verses of a translation by Rūdakī (d. ca. 941) which survive as quotations, and a single copy of a 12th century translation by Muḥammad ibn ʻAbd Allāh Bukhārī (De Blois, p. 5), the earliest extant Persian version is by Naṣr Allāh Munshī which he completed around 1144. It became sufficiently popular that 12 illustrated copies survive from the 14th century alone (O’Kane, pp. 41-3) including Or.13506, illustrated below, which dates from AH 707 (1307/8).

The story of the rat and the cat was “the most commonly illustrated scene in all pre-fifteenth-century Kalila and Dimnas” (O’Kane, p. 193), perhaps because it is one of the shortest chapters without any extra interpolated sub-stories. The plot and the moral are somewhat different from Æsop’s. A cat (gurbah) was trapped by bait in a hunter’s net. A rat (or mouse mush) emerging from his hole also looking for food, at first rejoiced to see the cat ensnared but then noticed an owl (būm) and a weasel (rāsū) waiting to pounce. In return for the cat’s protection he offered to set the cat free. His plan was successful: as soon as the owl and weasel saw the cat and rat joining forces, they made off. The rat then began to gnaw his way through the net, but slowly, as he wondered what would prevent the cat from eating him up once freed. After a lot of deliberation and discussion between the two, the rat decided to postpone the final bite until such time as the cat might be so distracted as to allow a safe escape. Shortly afterwards the hunter returned. The rat bit through the last cord and bolted down his hole in the ground while the cat shot up a tree.

After the hunter had left empty-handed, the cat returned and attempted, without success, to convince the rat of his friendly intentions. The very modern moral is that while it can be advantageous to form alliances with one’s enemies when expedient, it’s not a good idea when the danger has passed!

The rat approaches the trapped cat. Watching, ready to pounce, are an owl and a weasel. From Naṣr Allāh Munshī’s Kalīlah va Dimnah, Shiraz? AH 707 (1307/8) (British Library Or.13506, f. 143v)
The rat approaches the trapped cat. Watching, ready to pounce, are an owl and a weasel. From Naṣr Allāh Munshī’s Kalīlah va Dimnah, Shiraz? AH 707 (1307/8) (British Library Or.13506, f. 143v)  noc

In this copy of Naṣr Allāh Munshī’s Kalīlah va Dimnah, the rat emerges halfway from his hole to release the cat from the snare. Early 15th century South Provincial/Timurid style (British Library Or. 13163, f. 169r)
In this copy of Naṣr Allāh Munshī’s Kalīlah va Dimnah, the rat emerges halfway from his hole to release the cat from the snare. Early 15th century South Provincial/Timurid style (British Library Or. 13163, f. 169r)  noc


Ḥusayn Vāʻiz̤ Kāshifī’s Anvār-i Suḥaylī
A feature of Naṣr Allāh’s translation was his extensive use of Arabic poetry and quotations from the Qu’rān. By the end of the 15th century, it was regarded as old-fashioned if not incomprehensible on account of its general long-windedness and the Timurid Sultan Ḥusayn Mīrza Bāyqarā (r.1469-1506) asked Ḥusayn Vāʻiz̤ Kāshifī to produce a more convenient (āsān ‘convenient’ as suggested by Christine van Ruymbeke below, rather than ‘easy’ as normally interpreted) version. Kāshifi eliminated most of the Arabic but added a lot more stories - still quite florid nevertheless! - and it was this version which subsequently became the most popular.

Kāshifī’s version of the story of the cat and the rat remains the same except that the owl (būm) becomes a crow (zāgh) and two extra stories are inserted.

The hunter returns to find his net empty, the cat up the tree and the rat disappearing down his hole. From Kāshifī’s Anvār-i Suḥaylī. Ahmedabad, Gujarat, AH 1009 (1600/1) (British Library Or.6317, f. 152v)
The hunter returns to find his net empty, the cat up the tree and the rat disappearing down his hole. From Kāshifī’s Anvār-i Suḥaylī. Ahmedabad, Gujarat, AH 1009 (1600/1) (British Library Or.6317, f. 152v)  noc

Abū'l-Fal’s  ʻIyār-i dānish
Kāshifī’s Anvār-i Suḥaylī was particularly popular at the Mughal court. Under Mughal patronage several imperial copies were made including Add.18579 (see above) which was copied for Jahāngīr and completed in AH 1019 (1610/11). Evidently, however, Kāshifī’s ‘convenient’ but florid style was still difficult to understand because Akbar commissioned his chief minister Abu’l-Faz̤l ʿAllāmi (d. 1602) to write yet another version which though written in a simplified style included even more stories.

The British Library has two illustrated copies of Abū’l-Faz̤l’s version, both of which include paintings of the story of the cat and the rat. The paintings, however, although they occur in an identical context, have a very tenuous connection with the text which clearly mentions cats and mice/rats!

Two illustrations from different copies of Abu’l-Faz̤l’s ʻIyār-i dānish Illustrating the story of the cat and the rat (Left: British Library Or.477, f. 239v; right IO Islamic 1403, f. 168v) Two illustrations from different copies of Abu’l-Faz̤l’s ʻIyār-i dānish Illustrating the story of the cat and the rat (Left: British Library Or.477, f. 239v; right IO Islamic 1403, f. 168v)
Two illustrations from different copies of Abu’l-Faz̤l’s ʻIyār-i dānish Illustrating the story of the cat and the rat (Left: British Library Or.477, f. 239v; right IO Islamic 1403, f. 168v)  noc

The large number of illustrated and unillustrated manuscript copies of Anvār-i Suḥaylī and ʻIyār-i dānish is proof of their continuing popularity. The British Library has more than 30 dating from the 16th century until the advent of printing in the 19th century, at which time they were adopted as set texts for examination in the Indian Civil Service. These manuscripts range from luxury productions to very ordinary copies. Originally presented as guidance for good kingship, they had a double function: to educate the wise and to amuse the ignorant while being both easy to teach and to remember (Kāshifī, via Eastwick, p 4). They thus served a pedagogical purpose as a kind of general pre-modern citizenship manual.


Illustrated Arabic and Persian copies of Kalilah and Dimnah in the British Library
Ibn al-Muqaffaʻ (died c. 756/759): Kalīlah wa Dimnah (Arabic)

  • Add.24350: Egypt or Syria, mid-14th century. Unillustrated but spaces left for 90 miniatures.
  • Or.4044: 15th century. Profusely illustrated, mostly in the margins.

Marginal illustration from the story of the cat and the rat in the Arabic translation by Ibn al-Muqaffaʻ (British Library Or.4044, f. 97v)
Marginal illustration from the story of the cat and the rat in the Arabic translation by Ibn al-Muqaffaʻ (British Library Or.4044, f. 97v)  noc

Abū’l-Maʻālī Naṣr Allāh Munshī: Kalīlah va Dimnah (Persian), composed ca. 1145

  • Or.13506: Shiraz? AH 707 (1307/8). Includes one double-page and 66 smaller illustrations. This copy has been fully digitized (follow this link).
  • Or.13163: South Provincial/Timurid style, early 15th century. 37 miniatures.

Ḥusayn Vāʻiz̤ Kāshifī (d. ca. AH 910/1504-5): Anvār-i Suḥaylī (Persian)

  • Or.2799: Later Herat/Timurid style, AH 908 (1502/3). 16 miniatures.
  • Or.6317: Provincial Mughal (Gujarat). Copied in Ahmedabad, AH 1009 (1600/1). 43 miniatures.
  • Add.18579: Mughal. Copied for Jahāngīr and completed in AH 1019 (1610/11). 36 miniatures, two dated AH 1013 (1604/5). This copy has been fully digitized  (follow this link).

Abū'l-Faz̤l (d. 1602): ʻIyār-i dānish (Persian)

  • Or.477: Provincial Mughal, dated 19 Ram AH 1217 (13 Jan 1803). 37 miniatures.
  • IO Islamic 1403: 18th century. 40 illustrations from an earlier manuscript pasted in. Many blanks.
  • Johnson Album 54: 46 now separately mounted leaves; 12 are from a Mughal manuscript of c.1600, and the remainder are additions made for Richard Johnson at Lucknow c.1780.

Our current exhibition, Animal Tales, is open until 1 November 2015 in the Entrance Hall Gallery at the British Library. Entry is free. A full list of exhibits is available on our American Collections blog and you can read about some further examples in the Western medieval tradition on our Medieval Manuscripts blog.


Further reading:

Eastwick , Edward B. The Anvár-i Suhailí, or the Lights of Canopus: Being the Persian Version of the Fables of Pilpay, or the Book “Kalílah Und Damnah”. Hertford: Austin, 1854.

Wollaston, Arthur N. The Anwár-i-Suhailí; Or, Lights of Canopus, Commonly Known As Kalílah and Damnah. London: W.H. Allen & Co, 1877.

O'Kane, Bernard. Early Persian Painting: Kalila and Dimna Manuscripts of the Late Fourteenth Century. London: I.B. Tauris, 2003.

Waley, P. and Norah Titley. “An illustrated Persian text of Kalīla and Dimna dated 707/1307-8”, The British Library Journal 1 (1975), pp. 42-61.

De Blois, François. Burzōy's Voyage to India and the Origin of the Book of Kalīlah Wa Dimnah. London: Royal Asiatic Society, 1990.

van Ruymbeke, Christine. “Kashifi's Forgotten Masterpiece: Why Rediscover the Anvār-i Suhaylī?” Iranian Studies 36 (Dec., 2003), pp. 571-88.

Fables for Princes: Illustrated Versions of the Kabilah Wa Dimnah, Anvar-Isuhayli, Iyar-I Danish, and Humayun Nameh. Bombay: J.J. Bhabha for Marg Publ, 1991. Print.

Articles in Encyclopædia Iranica on line: Kalila wa Demna and Anwār-e Sohaylī



Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies

 ccownwork


[1] Doni, Anton Francesco, and Thomas North. The Morall Philosophie of Doni: Drawne Out of the Auncient Writers. A Worke First Compiled in the Indian Tongue, and Afterwardes Reduced into Diuers Other Languages. Imprinted at London: By Henry Denham, 1570.

 

12 October 2015

Problems in Deccani and Mughal drawings: a marbled ox fight and the Virgin of the Apocalypse

This blog continues my recent series of posts on the Library’s Deccani collections with one on Deccani drawings and specifically Deccani Christian subjects from Richard Johnson’s collection.  At least that was the original intention, given that there are ten drawings of Christian subjects described as Deccani from the mid-17th century in the Falk and Archer catalogue of 1981 in need of further examination, but as I looked at the drawings it seemed harder and harder to justify describing some of them as Deccani rather than Mughal.  This is a difficult area for absolute certainty of attribution, given that we are dealing in most cases with later versions of earlier drawings.   Johnson’s postings are of no help: he was in Lucknow 1780-82 and in Hyderabad 1784-85, but Deccani paintings were freely available in Lucknow also.  This blog will look at two of the drawings, reserving others for a further post.

Our first page, undoubtedly Deccani, unfortunately damaged but still superlatively interesting, is an example of abri or marbled paper used to create drawings combined with blank and painted areas of the paper.  The damaged outer portions and frame of the page have not been included here.


Two oxen fighting.  Deccan, probably Bijapur, early 17th century.  Marbled paper, wash and gold.  100 by 130 mm (page 190 x 295 mm).  British Library J.53, 3 (detail).
Two oxen fighting.  Deccan, probably Bijapur, early 17th century.  Marbled paper, wash and gold.  100 by 130 mm (page 190 x 295 mm).  British Library J.53, 3 (detail).  noc

Two superbly drawn oxen silhouetted in marbled paper against plain paper are locking horns.  One ox is outlined in black, and the other in gold, and they each contain other animals including lions, deer, a jackal and rabbits.  The gold outlining round the animals is continued in the loose tethers as well as in the integral marbled frame, which has the owner's seal of Hajji(?) Muhammad Mu‘min.  Although it is from the Richard Johnson Collection put together in India in the 1780s, the drawing was catalogued originally by B.W. Robinson as Persian (Qazwin style) or possibly Turkish, from the second half of the sixteenth century, and so was not included in the Falk and Archer catalogue. The art of marbling was introduced into India from Iran in the 16th century, but this type of drawing comprising one or more marbled figures against a plain ground seems in fact peculiarly Deccani.  The recent Metropolitan Museum exhibition on Deccani arts brought together several examples, including the famous ascetic riding a marbled emaciated nag outlined in gold from the Museum and its counterpoint from the Morgan Library of the drawn nag outlined in black silhouetted against a dramatically marbled page (Haidar and Sardar 2015, nos. 73, 74).  Our drawing combines the two ideas with its delicate gold and black lines outlining the two fighting oxen.  Some kind of resist technique similar to the dyed kalamkaris of the Deccan has had to be employed to produce these drawings, and here two adjacent areas have been juxtaposed with differently coloured marbled paper. More than that, within each ox, areas have been left free for other animals to be delicately washed in nim qalam: a jackal chases deer and hares in the darker ox, and in the lighter one a magnificently prancing lioness (her rear end unfortunately tampered with) sniffs the air with her lion cub outlined in gold within her, while a hare has taken refuge curled up just within the ox’s head.  This conceit is unlike composite drawings in which the animal’s outline is totally filled with other creatures contorted to fill the space.  Another Deccani version of this composition, also in marbled paper, is in a New York private collection (Pal 1983, no. D1).

Two oxen fighting.  Deccan, early 17th century.  Marbled paper, wash and gold.  90 x 120 mm.  Private collection, New York.
Two oxen fighting.  Deccan, early 17th century.  Marbled paper, wash and gold.  90 x 120 mm.  Private collection, New York.  noc

One of Johnson’s specific interests was in Mughal or Deccani paintings and drawings of Christian subjects, which were normally based on European engravings.  These were brought to Mughal India by the Jesuits in particular, who aimed to use such images to help in the conversion of the peoples of Asia.  Akbar’s and Jahangir’s artists painted over and copied such prints as aids in their quest for command of recession and volume and enlarged upon them in various ways without a care for the original iconography. While these types of drawings from the Mughal period are well known, those from the Deccan are less so.  Although there do not seem to have been any missions sent from Goa to the relatively near Ahmadnagar or Bijapur courts, Christian prints undoubtedly found their way into the hands of these Deccani artists, as evidenced by two drawings in the Freer Gallery (Zebrowski 1983, nos. 83 and 146).  They are clearly different from Mughal treatments of Christian subjects, having a certain angularity and awkwardness about them offset by their calligraphic line or sumptuous colour, which seems typical of what to expect from such material.

One of the finest Christian subjects in Johnson’s collection, unfortunately slightly rubbed, is a wash drawing of the Virgin of the Apocalypse, its iconography based on St. John’s description of the Woman clothed with the Sun from that text.  The Virgin holding the Christ Child in her arms and surrounded by a flaming glory representing the sun stands on a crescent moon and crushes the serpent, representing Satan, beneath her foot.  Two angels bring her a crown while two more hover at her side.  The Christ Child is offering his mother a fruit.

J.14,9
The Virgin of the Apocalypse.  Mughal, c. 1600.  Brush drawing, wash and gold.  136 x 70 mm.  British Library, J.14, 9.  noc

While catalogued by Falk and Archer as Deccani c. 1640-60 (1981, no. 443), it is in fact difficult to see in the drawing any of the specifically Deccani traits mentioned above, especially as another version, undoubtedly Mughal also from around 1600, now in the Freer/Sackler Gallery in Washington (Beach 2012, no. 43), is virtually identical in iconography if not in technique. 

The Virgin of the Apocalypse.  Mughal, c. 1600.  Brush drawing in ink.  129 x 94 mm. Freer/Sackler Gallery, Washington DC, S.1990.57. Smithsonian Institution
The Virgin of the Apocalypse.  Mughal, c. 1600.  Brush drawing in ink.  129 x 94 mm. Freer/Sackler Gallery, Washington DC, S.1990.57. Smithsonian Institution Creative Commons License

The Sackler version is drawn in such a way as to imitate the European engraving on which it is based, for its shading is achieved either by closely grouped parallel lines or cross-hatching, all drawn in ink with a brush.  The Johnson artist has, as is more usually the case in such drawings, converted the engraved lines into wash, here beautifully modelled and shaded, to produce his three-dimensional effects, and enhanced the effect with gold – gold striations on the garments and gold crown, nimbuses and jewellery.

Virgin and Child crowned by Angels.  Engraving by Martin Schongauer, 1469-73.  174 x 110 mm.  British Museum, 1845,0809.257. Trustees of the British Museum
Virgin and Child crowned by Angels.  Engraving by Martin Schongauer, 1469-73.  174 x 110 mm.  British Museum, 1845,0809.257. Trustees of the British Museum Creative Commons License

 

Our drawing has a wonderful softness of the modelling, which in its way is as effective as the original print by Martin Schongauer on which like the Sackler drawing it has been thought to be based.  Schongauer’s original engraving is actually only a half length with the Virgin’s body cut off by the crescent moon while two angels crown the Virgin above.  A full length version as in our drawing is not among the 116 engravings actually by Schongauer.  Other artists such as Albrecht Dürer and Lucas van Leyden also made use of a similar iconography in their engravings showing the Virgin, full length, with or without the Christ Child standing on the crescent moon within a glory, and in the case of van Leyden with four angels, all of which were much copied, but the only print that has yet been found that has all the requisite details of our drawings is contained in a prayer book composed of prints by German engravers from early in the 16th century:  this has the crown, the four angels, the glory, the crescent moon and the serpent, while the Christ Child is also offering a fruit to his mother.

The Virgin of the Apocalypse.  Hand-coloured engraving by Monogrammist M, 1500-25, page from a prayer book of religious prints with Flemish manuscript text.  Page 97 x 65 mm. British Museum, 1868,1114.72. Trustees of the British Museum
The Virgin of the Apocalypse.  Hand-coloured engraving by Monogrammist M, 1500-25, page from a prayer book of religious prints with Flemish manuscript text.  Page 97 x 65 mm. British Museum, 1868,1114.72. Trustees of the British Museum Creative Commons License

 This is by a relatively obscure print maker, Monogrammist M, that is very likely after an as yet undiscovered engraving.  The angels are in different positions from our two drawings, the Virgin’s robe is differently arranged and the serpent faces right instead of left.  On the other hand the Virgin’s hair is arranged closer to our drawings than in the Schongauer print while the child also offers his mother an apple.  A study of a version of this prayer-book in a German library (Andresen 1868) concluded that many of the engravings were after other masters such as Lucas van Leyden and Albrecht Dürer, but no such work from these masters actually conforms to all the elements of Monogrammist M’s work or of our Mughal drawings.

Such prints were certainly taken to India, since they also formed the basis of carvings in ivory in Sri Lanka, Goa and also China.  17th century ivory statuettes of the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception (the same iconography but lacking the glory, crown and sometimes the Christ Child), both from Goa and Sri Lanka, show that this iconography was known in South Asia.

The Virgin of the Immaculate Conception standing on the crescent moon on top of a dragon.  Goa or Sri Lanka, mid-17th century.  Carved ivory, height 45 cm.  Victoria & Albert Museum, A. 60-1949.  Victoria & Albert Museum, London.
The Virgin of the Immaculate Conception standing on the crescent moon on top of a dragon.  Goa or Sri Lanka, mid-17th century.  Carved ivory, height 45 cm.  Victoria & Albert Museum, A. 60-1949.  Victoria & Albert Museum, London.Creative Commons License

Other ivories from Sri Lanka and Goa are known with this same iconography (see Bailey et al. 2013, pp. 126-29, 188-89). A particularly fine example from China in a private Portuguese collection is an ivory plaque carved in low relief with the subject of the print on which our drawing is based, including the Virgin standing on the crescent moon with four supporting angels but without the Christ Child, crown and serpent (ibid., p. 271).

 

Further Reading:

Andresen, A., ‘Beiträge zur ältern niederdeutschen Kupferstichkunde des 15. und 16. Jahrhunderts, in Archiv für die zeichnenden Künste, XIV, 1868, pp. 1-56

Bailey, G.A., The Jesuits and the Grand Mogul: Renaissance Art at the Imperial Court of India, 1580-1630, Smithsonian Institution, Washington D.C., 1998, Occasional Papers 1998, vol. 2

Bailey, G.A., Massing, J.M., and Vassallo e Silva, N., Ivories in the Portuguese Empire. Scribe, Lisboa, 2013

Beach, M.C., The Imperial Image:  Paintings for the Mughal Court, revised and expanded edition, Freer/Sackler, Washington, Mapin Publishing, Ahmedabad, 2012

Falk, T., and Archer, M., Indian Miniatures in the India Office Library, Sotheby Parke Bernet, London, 1981, pp. 238-39

Haidar, N. and Sardar, M.,  Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700: Opulence and Fantasy, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 2015, especially pp. 157-69 on abri drawings

Pal, P., Court Paintings of India, 16th-19th Centuries, Navin Kumar, New York, 1983

Zebrowski, M., Deccani Painting, Sotheby Publications, University of California Press, London and Los Angeles, 1983

 

J.P. Losty, Curator of Visual Arts (Emeritus) ccownwork

10 September 2015

Battle of Panipat 1761

Panipat, north of Delhi, is the location of three historic battles that shaped Mughal history. On the battlefield here in 1526, Babur defeated the Afghan Sultan of Delhi Ibrahim Lodi, which not only ended Lodi rule but gave the Mughals a stronger foothold on the subcontinent.

Battle of Panipat in 1526, from the Baburnama ('Memoirs of Babur') by Deo Gujarati, 1590-93. British Library, Or.3714, f.368r
Battle of Panipat in 1526, from the Baburnama ('Memoirs of Babur') by Deo Gujarati, 1590-93. British Library, Or.3714, f.368r  noc

The second battle took place in 1556, when the emperor Akbar (r.1556-1605) fought a victorious battle against the Hindu Hemu, the last minister of the Afghan kings who had regained control of Delhi and Agra after Humayun’s death. Our drawing documents the military alliances and battle tactics played out between the Afghans and Marathas at the third battle of Panipat of 1761.

In the years following Nadir Shah’s invasion in 1739, emperors Ahmad Shah (r.1748-54)  and ‘Alamgir II (r.1754-59) were both quite weak and could barely voice their opposition against the various political parties wishing to exert their own control over the capital. The lack of a coherent government left the capital susceptible to attacks: from the north came the Afghan Durrani ruler Ahmad Shah Abdali in the 1750s, who looted whatever remained in the aftermath of Nadir Shah’s earlier attack. On the other hand, the capital was dominated by Ghazi al-Din Khan ‘Imad al-Mulk, the Amir al-Umara (Commander-in-Chief of the imperial army), and his alliance with the Marathas from central India. After deposing ‘Imad al-Mulk, the Marathas and the Afghans vied for political control of the capital, which led to the Battle of Panipat in January 1761.

Battle of Panipat, 13  January 1761, Mughal, c.1761. British Library, Johnson Album 66,3.
Battle of Panipat, 13  January 1761, Mughal, c.1761. British Library, Johnson Album 66,3.  noc

This exceptionally large composition (510 x 660 mm) required careful organization and precision to illustrate the line-up of the two forces. This scene pictures part of the external walls of the city and fortress that had been occupied by the Maratha forces. Inside the buildings, Afghans assault women and leave a stream of decapitated bodies. Ahmad Shah Abdali, the Afghan ruler, riding on horseback on the right-hand side, is the clear hero of the battle. He is illustrated proportionally larger than the remaining identified officers, dressed in a pink jama, and wears a distinctive pointed headdress.

etail of Ahmad Shah Abdali, British Library, Johnson Album 66,3 
Detail of Ahmad Shah Abdali, British Library, Johnson Album 66,3   noc

Each of the major players can be identified through the accompanying inscriptions. Next to Ahmad Shah Abdali is his son Timur Shah on horseback. The Afghans were supported by Najib Khan, the leader of the Rohilla Afghans who lived in the Rohilkhand region between the Ganges and the Jumna rivers, and Navab Shuja’ al-Daula of Avadh, who was coerced into joining the Afghans. These two leaders and their troops are positioned in the lower right corner.

In this battle, the Maratha leader Sadashiv Rao and his army fought against Ahmad Shah Abdali. The Marathas wished to replace the current emperor Shah ‘Alam II with his son Prince Javan Bakht. Sadashiv Rao appears at the middle left edge of this painting, on horseback with bleeding wounds. At centre stage, the line of defence is marked by the double rows of cannons firing against each other. Soldiers prepare for combat, elephants with howdahs carry the military commanders, and billowing smoke as well as bodies fills the scene.

Detail of Sadashiv Rao, British Library, Johnson Album 66,3
Detail of Sadashiv Rao, British Library, Johnson Album 66,3   noc

The rapid style of execution in ink, with compressed figures drawn in rows and few touches of colour, aids the viewer through the frenzied battle scene. Compositionally, this style of execution has Mughal precedents, such as the well-known painting of the Battle of Samugarh, when Aurangzeb was victorious in the war of succession against his older brother Dara Shikoh. Within the wider remit of Indian painting, Amber artists Gopal, Jivan and Udai collaborated to illustrate Emperor Bahadur Shah I in battle in the Deccan.

However, although our drawing has been identified as the work of a Faizabad artist, the fact that Ahmad Shah Abdali is prominently drawn proportionately larger than the other figures leads us to question the source of patronage. No artist working in the region controlled by Navab Shuja ’al-Daula would be so bold as to picture the Navab as submissive to Ahmad Shah Abdali. It seems more appropriate to suggest that this is the work of a Mughal artist who worked for the Afghan ruler in the Durrani-controlled Punjab or even Kashmir.

Malini Roy, Visual Arts Curator  ccownwork

30 July 2015

On the road: some user guides to libraries and archives

Over the last couple of years I have been tweeting the many notifications that I have received on users' experiences of archives and libraries. Even if an institution has its own website, readers' impressions can be very helpful. Twitter, however, has limitations so far as archiving data is concerned so I thought it could be useful to publish a list of the references I have collected so far. If readers have more uptodate information or know of additional archives and libraries, please let me know and it can be added in.

A travelling scholar monk carrrying a load of Buddhist scrolls. From Cave 17, Mogao, near Dunhuang, Gansu province, China. 10th century AD (Stein collection Ch. 00380, BM 1919,0101,0.168) © Trustees of the British Museum
A travelling scholar monk carrrying a load of Buddhist scrolls. From Cave 17, Mogao, near Dunhuang, Gansu province, China. 10th century AD (Stein collection Ch. 00380, BM 1919,0101,0.168) © Trustees of the British Museum

Most of these reviews were published during the last two years and came from the following sources:

For Middle Eastern studies, Evyn Kropf, University of Michigan Library, gives an excellent general overview and further references in her Manuscript Collection Research Guides and Online collections of digitized Islamic manuscripts.

For Chinese studies, Bick-har Yeung, Former East Asian Librarian, University of Melbourne, reported on visits in 2014 to major Chinese research collections in the UK, Paris and Singapore, in East Asian Library Resources Group of Australia Newsletter 65 (2015).

The following reviews are listed here by country:

Afghanistan

Azerbaijan                

Bosnia & Herzegovina      

Bulgaria       

Cambodia    

China            

Egypt             

Georgia        

Germany       

Greece          

India             

Indonesia    

Iran               

Ireland          

Israel            

Japan            

Jordan           

Kazakhstan  

Mongolia     

Morocco

Netherlands

Pakistan       

South Korea 

Spain            

Taiwan         

Turkey           

UK                  

USA                

Uzbekistan

 

Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies
 ccownwork

13 July 2015

The story of Sinbad or the seven sages

One of our most colourful manuscripts, now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s current exhibition “Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700,” is IO Islamic 3214, the only known copy of the story of Sindbad and the seven sages to be written in Persian verse. The story - not to be confused with Sindbad the sailor of the Arabian Nights - occurs in both Western and Eastern literature, but is believed to be of Iranian origin (Perry 1960) with links to a very ancient Graeco-Oriental tradition.

The story of the King of Kashmir whose elephant bolted despite three years’ training. The keeper, condemned to be trodden underfoot, escaped death by demonstrating the elephant’s obedience and attributing the mishap to a bad horoscope (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 23v)
The story of the King of Kashmir whose elephant bolted despite three years’ training. The keeper, condemned to be trodden underfoot, escaped death by demonstrating the elephant’s obedience and attributing the mishap to a bad horoscope (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 23v)
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This version was composed in AH 776 (1374/75) at the request of an unnamed king and was based on an earlier version written in Persian prose. It is illustrated with 72 miniatures characterised by the use of vivid colours and innovative architectural detail, opening with double page portraits of King Solomon and Queen Sheba on facing pages  - a feature of many manuscripts of Iranian origin, particularly from 16th century Shiraz to which this manuscript owes many stylistic features.

The concubine accuses the prince of treason (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 29v)
The concubine accuses the prince of treason (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 29v)
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Set in an Indian context, the poem takes the form of many tales told within the frame of a single story. Commanded to remain silent for seven days by his teacher, Sindibad, the young prince is accused by one of his father’s concubines of having attempted to seduce her. He is condemned to death, but the king’s seven viziers take turns to delay the execution by telling stories illustrating women’s deceit. Each evening, however, their work is undone by the guilty concubine telling a contradictory story. After a week’s silence, the prince, now free to speak again, is exonerated and set free. The tale ends with the king’s abdication in favour of his son. Unfortunately because of a gap in the text, it is not clear whether the wicked woman is pardoned or punished!

The executioner leads the prince to his death (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 74v)
The executioner leads the prince to his death (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 74v)
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The history of our manuscript is a mystery in its own right! Almost certainly copied and illustrated in Golconda between 1575 and 1585 (Weinstein, p. 127), it unfortunately lacks a colophon, but folio 1r contains at least one abraded Qutbshahi seal impression. The popularity of the Sindbādnāmah is also attested, as Laura Weinstein notes (Haidar and Sardar, p. 203), by the existence of an especially commissioned copy (BL Or.255) of the better known Persian prose version by Muḥammad ibn ʻAlī al-Ẓahīrī al-Samarqandī, copied for Sulṭān Muḥammad Qutub Shāh (r. 1612-26) in Haidarabad in 1622. The illustrations as far as folio 23v also include captions in Kannada.  Presumably these were added afterwards since the first inscription occurs on what appears to be a later flyleaf at the beginning. At some point the volume was trimmed - some of the architectural details are missing from the illustrations - and numbered continuously in Arabic numerals - this despite several obviously missing leaves - on the verso of each folio.

The prince’s tale: a black div abducts the daughter of the king of furthest Kashmir while visiting a  garden outside the city (BL IO Islamic 3241, f. 120r)
The prince’s tale: a black div abducts the daughter of the king of furthest Kashmir while visiting a  garden outside the city (BL IO Islamic 3241, f. 120r)
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The story of the pari, who teaches the ascetic three ‘Great Names’, each of which, when uttered in an emergency will grant the ascetic’s wish (BL IO Islamic 3241, f. 142r)
The story of the pari, who teaches the ascetic three ‘Great Names’, each of which, when uttered in an emergency will grant the ascetic’s wish (BL IO Islamic 3241, f. 142r)
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It is not known exactly how the manuscript was acquired by the East India Company, but in 1841 the Scottish Persianist Forbes Falconer (1805-53) published a partial translation in three instalments in the Asiatic Journal in which he described it (Falconer, p.170) as a unique manuscript “in the collection at East-India House.” At that time readers were allowed to take manuscripts home for study and perhaps Falconer forgot to return it because in June 1857 it was purchased, according to another note, by one Edwin Greenwood “at an Old Book Stall for £1-0-0”. A later note by the then librarian H H Wilson, dated March 1859, describes this as “a curious fiction”, but considering that the East India Company seal on folio 1r has been deliberately erased, it seems likely that Edwin Greenwood’s story was correct and we can be grateful for him returning it!

A happy ending: the prince assumes his father’s throne in the presence of viziers and courtiers (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 165v)
A happy ending: the prince assumes his father’s throne in the presence of viziers and courtiers (BL IO Islamic 3214, f. 165v)
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The exhibition “Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700” is open at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, until July 26.

IO Islamic 3214 has been fully digitised and can be read on our Digital Manuscripts site (access via Digital Access to Persian Manuscripts).


Further reading

Clouston, W A, The book of Sindibād; or, the story of the king, his son, the damsel, and the seven vazīrs. [Glasgow], 1874
Falconer, F. “The Sindibād Nāmah,” The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British and Foreign India, China, and Australasia 35 (1841): 169-180; and 36 (1841): 4-18, 99-108
Haidar, Navina N  and Marika Sardar, Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700: opulence and fantasy. New York, 2015, no 97, pp. 203-4
Perry, B A, The origin of the Book of Sindbad. Berlin, 1960
Renda, Günsel, “Sindbādnāma: an early Ottoman illustrated manuscript unique in iconography and style,”  Muqarnas 21 (2004): 311-22
Weinstein, Laura S, “Variations on a Persian theme: adaptation and innovation in early manuscripts from Golconda.” PhD diss., Columbia University, New York, 2011


Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies
 ccownwork

 

24 June 2015

Captain Linnaeus Tripe: Photographer of India and Burma

Unknown Photographer, Portrait of Major-General Linnaeus Tripe (1822-1902), Madras Army, (?)1880s, British Library, Photo 612(1).
Unknown Photographer, Portrait of Major-General Linnaeus Tripe (1822-1902), Madras Army, (?)1880s, British Library, Photo 612(1).  noc

Once heard, the exotically-named Linnaeus Tripe is difficult to forget. Yet even in his own lifetime and certainly in the century and more since his death in 1902, appreciation of one of the most accomplished photographers in 19th-century India has been restricted to a limited circle of photographic and architectural historians. A comprehensive survey exhibition of his work, to which the British Library was a major lender, has been on show at the National Gallery of Art in Washington and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York over the past nine months. The third venue of this exhibition, opening at the Victoria and Albert Museum on 24 June, will give British audiences the opportunity to see some 70 examples of his work from Burma and South India.

Tripe entered the Madras Army in 1839, and probably learned photography during his first furlough to England in 1851–53. A small number of photographs taken in England during this period survive and in early 1853 he also became one of the founding members of the Photographic Society of London. But it was his return to India that saw the creation of his first extensive body of work. In late 1854 he travelled across country from Bangalore in the company of another early amateur photographer Dr Andrew Neill to make a detailed photographic survey of the extravagantly sculptured Hoysala temples at Halebid and Belur. These photographs received glowing reviews when they were exhibited in Madras in 1855 and paved the way for a major photographic commission from the authorities in Calcutta.

In the course of three wars of encroachment between 1824 and 1885, the expanding imperial domain of British India swallowed up the Burmese empire. After the conclusion of the second of these conflicts in 1853, it was decided that a mission should be sent to the Burmese capital, high up the Irrawaddy at Amarapura, to attempt to persuade the new Burmese king Mindon Min to ratify a treaty transferring the conquered territory of Pegu to British rule. While no great hopes were entertained for the success of this objective, it was seen as a rare opportunity to gather information about a country hitherto largely closed to western penetration. The Governor-General Lord Dalhousie considered that a visual record of the journey ‘would convey to the Government a better idea of the natural features of the neighbouring Kingdom of Burmah than any written report’ and that ‘sketches of the people and of cities and palaces … would give a life and interest to the future report of the Mission.’ To this end the artist Colesworthy Grant was chosen to accompany the mission (the resulting watercolours are held in the Library’s collections, shelfmark WD540). Photography had also recently begun to be encouraged and sponsored by the East India Company for the documentation of Indian architecture and Tripe, considered ‘very highly qualified in his field’, was also selected for the mission.

The party with its military escort steamed upriver on the Irrawaddy in August 1855, bearing as well as personnel and supplies, 59 crates of gifts designed to impress and gratify an eastern potentate. These included textiles, jewels, candelabra and swords, as well as more diverting amusements such as musical birds, a pianola and a polyrama (a popular optical toy presenting, in this case, dissolving views of Paris by day and night). Scientific instruments, including telescopes and sextants, were selected with the queen in mind, since she was known to be of a ‘scientific turn’ with a particular interest in astronomy. News of photography had by this time also reached the Burmese court and to satisfy the king’s interest in ‘sun pictures’ a complete set of daguerreotype equipment was also to be presented to him. Whether this last give was ever used seems doubtful, however, since Tripe’s attempts at teaching photography to one of the king’s servants were abandoned through lack of time and the man’s ‘desultory’ attendance at the lessons.

In the course of the mission’s journey, and over the six weeks it remained in residence at the capital, Tripe produced over 200 paper negatives of Burmese scenes, which represent photography’s first extensive encounter with Burma. While senior officials negotiated politely but ineffectively with their Burmese counterparts, Tripe produced around 50 photographs of the Burmese capital and the surrounding country. Within a few years Amarapura was to be abandoned in favour of a new capital a few miles upriver at Mandalay and Tripe’s prints constitute a unique documentation of the city and its environs before nature reclaimed its stupas, walls and palaces.

Linnaeus Tripe, Colossal statue of Gautama close to the north end of the wooden bridge, Amarapura, 1855. British Library, Photo 61/1(46).
Linnaeus Tripe, Colossal statue of Gautama close to the north end of the wooden bridge, Amarapura, 1855. British Library, Photo 61/1(46).  noc

Tripe also explored as far upriver as Mingun, photographing King Bodawpaya’s grandiose and crumbling stupa (never completed and severely damaged by the earthquake of 1839). On both the outward and return journey the mission also stopped to survey the great plain of temples at Bagan—monuments of a previous ruling dynasty—and here Tripe made the first photographs of the principal landmarks of the site. As the mission’s secretary Henry Yule later wrote: ‘Pagan surprised us all. None of the previous travellers to Ava had prepared us for remains of such importance and interest.’ Their hurried tour also found time to note the elaborately carved wooden architecture of the monasteries, ‘rich and effective beyond description; photography only could do it justice.’

Linnaeus Tripe, Carved wooden doorway in the courtyard of the Zhwe Zigong Pagoda, Bagan, 1855. British Library, Photo 61/1(25).
Linnaeus Tripe, Carved wooden doorway in the courtyard of the Zhwe Zigong Pagoda, Bagan, 1855. British Library, Photo 61/1(25).  noc

On the mission’s return to India, Tripe set about printing 50 sets of a portfolio of 120 selected Burmese views, a massive labour that was not to be completed until early 1857. Each paper negative had to be individually exposed in a frame in sunlight before developing, fixing and mounting the resulting print on card. To add to his labours, Tripe (or his Indian assistants) meticulously retouched many of the images, improving the appearance of foliage and the skies. The photographic chemistry of the period—predominantly sensitive to the blue end of the spectrum—tended to produce over-exposed and starkly blank skies. To remedy this, Tripe skilfully added skies and clouds by painting directly onto the surface of the negative, a remarkably effective technique that adds character and interest to these subtly toned studies of Burmese architecture. The demands of such work—involving the manual production of more than 6,500 mounted prints—are a striking demonstration of Tripe’s adherence to an aesthetic vision far beyond the requirements of pure documentation.

Linnaeus Tripe, Jambukeshvara Temple, Srirangam, 1858. British Library, Photo 950(8).
Linnaeus Tripe, Jambukeshvara Temple, Srirangam, 1858. British Library, Photo 950(8).  noc

In March 1857 Tripe’s dedication was rewarded by his appointment as Government Photographer of Madras, his principal task being to service the growing demand for reliable visual evidence of India’s architectural heritage—in his own words, to ‘secure before they disappear the objects in the Presidency that are interesting to the Antiquary, Sculptor, Mythologist, and historian.’ In succeeding decades photography was to become a standard tool of record for the work of the Archaeological Survey of India, but Tripe was to be the most distinguished of a small band of photographers who spearheaded these first—often faltering—initiatives.

Linnaeus Tripe, Entrance to the hill fort at Ryakotta, 1857-58. British Library, Photo 951(3).
Linnaeus Tripe, Entrance to the hill fort at Ryakotta, 1857-58. British Library, Photo 951(3).  noc

In mid-December 1857 Tripe left Bangalore with four bullock-loads of supplies and equipment on a demanding four-and-a-half month tour through rough country that would take him as far south as the great temple city of Madurai, before heading north-east to reach Madras at the end of April 1858. During this great loop through the modern state of Tamil Nadu, he visited and photographed major temple sites (among them Srirangam and Thanjavur), as well as hill forts, palaces and the occasional striking landscape. Among the most remarkable of the 290 negatives from this journey—not least in terms of technical ingenuity—is the 19-foot long panorama, composed from 21 joined prints, recording the inscription running around the base of the Brihadeshvara Temple at Thanjavur.

By August 1858 he was once more at Bangalore, setting up his establishment to print up the results of his travels. With the government’s agreement and subsidy, these were made available in a published series of nine slime folio volumes devoted to specific locations, the pasted-in prints accompanied by descriptive letterpress by several different authors.

Tripe had envisaged a wider and more ambitious photographic project, which as well as architecture would encompass ‘customs, dress, occupations … arms, implements, and musical instruments’ and, where appropriate, ‘picturesque’ subjects. But his employment as Presidency Photographer coincided with the economies imposed in the aftermath of the Uprising of 1857–58. In mid-1859 Sir Charles Trevelyan, recently appointed Governor of Madras, shocked by the expense of such large-scale photographic production, ordered an immediate end to Tripe’s activities, declaring them ‘an article of high luxury which is unsuited to the present state of our finances.’ By the spring of his 1860 his establishment had been wound up and his staff and equipment dispersed.

Linnaeus Tripe, Trimul Naik’s Choultry, side verandah from the west, Madurai, 1858. British Library, Photo 953/2(2).
Linnaeus Tripe, Trimul Naik’s Choultry, side verandah from the west, Madurai, 1858. British Library, Photo 953/2(2).  noc

The abrupt termination of his appointment, coming at a moment he considered merely the start of his photographic ambitions in India, must have been a bitter blow to Tripe. In response he appears to have abandoned photography entirely, apart from a minor series of views taken in Burma in the early 1870s. But in a photographic career effectively lasting little more than five years, Tripe had created a body of photographs that is now recognised as among the finest architectural work produced in the course of the 19th century. His interpretation of architectural form, revealed in a characteristic use of long receding perspectives and a sometimes near-abstract balancing of light and shade, was accompanied by a rare mastery of the paper negative process. His care in printing has meant that many of his images survive in near pristine condition and allow the modern viewer to appreciate the full beauty of 19th-century photography. Tripe’s original negatives also survive at the National Media Museum in Bradford (two examples are shown in the present exhibition) and detailed accounts of Tripe’s activities in India can be found in the Madras Proceedings of the India Office Records at the British Library. All these sources have been assiduously mined in the production of the exhibition and in Roger Taylor and Crispin Branfoot’s handsomely printed catalogue, which together give full if belated recognition to the sophisticated artistry of a major figure in photographic history.

 

Further Reading

Roger Taylor and Crispin Branfoot, Captain Linnaeus Tripe. Photographer of India and Burma, 1852–1860 (Washington: 2014)

Henry Yule, A narrative of the mission sent by the Governor-General of India to the Court of Ava in 1855; with notices of the country, government and people (London: 1858)

Janet Dewan, The photographs of Linnaeus Tripe : a catalogue raisonné (Toronto: 2003)

John Falconer, India: pioneering photographers 1850–1900 (London: 2001)

The majority of Colesworthy Grant’s watercolours of Burma and Tripe’s photographs of Burma and India can be seen online at http://www.bl.uk/onlinegallery/onlineex/apac/index.html.

John Falconer, Lead Curator, Visual Arts  ccownwork

 

11 June 2015

Tipu Sultan’s dream book (IO Islamic 3563)

One of the most intriguing items in the British Library Persian manuscripts collection is a small unexceptional looking volume which contains a personal record, written in his own hand, of 37 dreams of Tipu Sultan, Sultan of Mysore (r. 1782-1799).

Portrait of Tipu Sultan, 1792, by an unnamed south Indian artist (British Library F28)
Portrait of Tipu Sultan, 1792, by an unnamed south Indian artist (British Library F28)
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The manuscript was presented to the Court of Directors of the East India Company in 1800 by Alexander Beatson on behalf of the Governor-General, Marquess Wellesley, after the fall of Seringapatam in 1799. The story of its discovery is recorded in Beatson’s signed and dated note at the end of the volume:

This register of the Sultaun’s dreams was discovered by Colonel William Kirkpatrick, amongst other papers of a secret nature in an escritoire found in the Palace of Seringapatam. Hubbeeb Oollah, one of the most confidential of the Sultaun’s servants, was present at the time it was discovered. He knew that there was such a book of the Sultaun’s composition; but had never seen it, as the Sultaun always manifested peculiar anxiety to conceal it from the view of any who happened to approach while he was either reading or writing in it.

“Tippoo Sultaun’s Dreams in his own handwriting, presented in the name of The Marquis Wellesley to Hugh Inglis Esqr. Chairman of the Court of Directors, by Major Alexander Beatson, late aid de camp to the Governor General” (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 29v)
“Tippoo Sultaun’s Dreams in his own handwriting, presented in the name of The Marquis Wellesley to Hugh Inglis Esqr. Chairman of the Court of Directors, by Major Alexander Beatson, late aid de camp to the Governor General” (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 29v)
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The journal contains altogether 37 dreams dating from between April 1786 and January 1799, just a few months before Tipu Sultan's death.  They occupy the first 16 leaves of the volume and are followed by 166 blank folios, with the final part of the volume taken up with related memoranda. The dreams were written perhaps hurriedly in what H. Ethé (no 3001 in his printed catalogue) describes as “a fearful Shikasta”, and contain numerous spelling errors, confusing, for example, the letters  ذ  with ز ,  and س  with ص etc. Only a few of the dreams are described as having been written down on waking. Most were recorded afterwards and they are not all in chronological order. This arrangement suggests that the notebook was intended as an ongoing project containing a selection of Tipu’s most significant dreams, starting, perhaps, around 1795 (Brittlebank 2011, p 167). The dreams are dated according to Tipu’s own lunisolar calendrical system which used new month and year names based first on abjad and then on abtath values. The era, termed mawludi, was calculated from a date which was presumed to be the date of the Prophet's spiritual birth, 13 years earlier than the hijra. Another innovation was to write the numbers from right to left -  logical, however, in a script which reads the same way!

The dreams cover a wide variety of topics but the majority reflect Tipu’s preoccupations with his enemies. Some are seen as indicating success and victory. Others relay encounters with the Prophet, his son-in-law ʻAli and important religious and literary figures such as Saʻdi and Jami whose presence may be seen as a legitimising force.

Considering the importance of divination and predicting the future in pre-modern Islam, the existence of this journal is entirely consistent with Tipu’s particular interest in the interpretation of dreams and bibliomancy. It has sometimes been regarded as something of an esoteric oddity but should be viewed, rather, as a serious attempt to make sense of events in a historical context.

A selection of Tipu’s dreams follows:

Dream 12: The message
This dream dates from 1786 during the Maratha-Mysore war (1785-1787) when the Marathas, who had established a military alliance with the Nizam of Hyderabad, sought to recover territories they had lost in previous conflicts.

Dream 12: A message from the Prophet via Hazrat ʻAli (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 6v)
Dream 12: A message from the Prophet via Hazrat ʻAli (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 6v)
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Translation (Husain, pp. 61-2)

On the 21st of the month Haidari [month 6], of the year Busd in accordance with the Zar evaluation [ie. the new abtath system], the fortieth year of the cycle [ie. September. 1786[1]], at the place where I had halted, on the farther side of the Tungabhadra, I had this dream: It appeared to me as if it was the Day of Judgement when no one would be interested in anyone else. At that time a stranger of great strength and commanding stature with a bright face and red beard and moustaches came to me and taking my hand in his, said to me : “Do you know who I am?” I told him I did not. He then said to me, “I am Murtaza Ali and the Messenger of God has said and is still repeating it that he would not set his foot in paradise without you and would wait for you and enter the paradise with you.” I felt so happy and woke up. God is all powerful, and the Messenger is the intercessor. This suffices.

Dream 13: A woman in man’s dress
Tipu had crossed the Tungabhadra river in August 1786, and on October 1st made a surprise attack with only 300 men on the Maratha camp under general Haripant Phadke. The next day the Marathas were forced to retreat (Muhibbul Hasan, pp. 112-5).

Dream 13: A woman in mans’ clothes (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 7r)
Dream 13: A woman in mans’ clothes (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 7r)
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Translation (Husain, pp. 63-4)

Prior to the night attack upon the Marhattas at Shahnur by the side of Devgiri, on the 6th of the month Khusrawi [7th month], of the year Busd [yr. 40, i.e. October 1786], I had a dream: It seemed to me as if a handsome young man, a stranger, came and sat down near me. I passed certain remarks in the manner in which one might, in a playful mood, talk to a woman. I then said to myself: “It is not my custom to enter into playful discourse with anyone.” Shortly thereafter, the youth rose, and walking a few paces, returned to loosen his hair from beneath his turban, and opening the fastenings of his robe, displayed his bosom, and I saw it was a woman. I immediately called and seated her and said to her: “Whereas formerly I had only guessed you were a woman, and I had cut jokes with you, it is now definite that you are a woman in the dress of a man. My conjecture has come true.” In the midst of this conversation the morning dawned, and I woke up. I conveyed the contents of the dream to other people and interpreted it thus: That please God those Marhattas have put on the clothes of men, but in fact will prove to be women. By the favour of God and the aid of His Messenger, on the 8th of the month and the year above mentioned, on the morning of Saturday, I made a surprise attack upon the army of the unbelievers. Advancing with two or three hundred men, I myself penetrated the camp of the unbelievers, crushing them as I went, as far as the tent of Hari Pant Pharkiah, and they all fled like women.

Dream 26: The expulsion of the English
The Third Anglo–Mysore War ended in 1792 with the Treaty of Seringapatam, and left Tipu Sultan attempting to rebuild his empire. Although they had not been much help to him, Tipu continued to look on the French as allies and was no doubt encouraged by their increasingly hostile anti-British and pro-invasion policies from 1796 onwards.

Dream 26: The expulsion of the English (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 12r)
Dream 26: The expulsion of the English (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 12r)
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Translation (Husain, p. 84)

On the 3rd of the month Razi [month 11], corresponding to the 1st of the month of Shaʻban, 1224 [January 1797], from the birth of Muhammad, on Monday, the night of Tuesday, at the metropolis, in the early hours of the morning, I had a dream: Raghunath Rao, the Marhatta agent, who had been to me before, appeared before me and said, “The English have suffered a crushing defeat in Europe and are now on the verge of leaving Bengal voluntarily.” On hearing his statement, I said, “That is fine, I will despatch troops as well as money; if God wills, the Nazarenes shall be expelled from India.”


Further reading

Mahmud Husain, The Dreams of Tipu Sultan: translated from the original Persian with an introduction and notes. Karachi, [1957].
Beatson, A., A View of the Origin and Conduct of the War with Tippoo Sultaun; comprising a narrative of the operations of the army under command of Lieutenant-General George Harris, and of the siege of Seringapatam. London, 1800
Mohibbul Hasan Khan, History of Tipu Sultan. Delhi, 1951
Kirkpatrick, W., Select Letters of Tippoo Sultan to Various Public Functionaries ... London, 1811, especially his notes on the calendar and Mauludi era, pp.xxvi-xxxvii
Brittlebank, Kate, “Among the Unbelievers: Non-Muslim Elements in Tipu Sultan's Dreams”, South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, 33:1 (2010), pp 75-86.
–––   “Accessing the Unseen Realm: The Historical and Textual Contexts of Tipu Sultan's Dream Register”,  Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 21:2 (2011), pp 159-75.
Hossein Ziai, “Dreams and dream interpretation: ii. In the Persian tradition”, in Encyclopædia Iranica online.
Nidhin George Olikara, “Dawn of a new Era: Tipu Sultan and his Mauludi Calendar”, in his blog The Seringapatam Times.

 

Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies
 ccownwork



[1] Kate Brittlebank (Brittlebank 2011, p. 168) dates this dream to 18 November 1786, after dream 12, presumably because Haidari was originally the 8th month in the year. However according to Tipu's new evaluation (zar) based on abtath numerals, Haidari became the 6th month, so this dream, dated in the 6th month (Haidari) of the 40th year (Busd), would have taken place in September 1786.

05 June 2015

British Library loans to Sultans of Deccan exhibition in New York

A superlative exhibition Sultans of Deccan India opened at the Metropolitan Museum in New York in April with an important accompanying catalogue (Haidar and Sardar 2015).  The arts of the Deccan (upland peninsular India) are among the rarest survivals from Muslim India and the exhibition concentrated on its greatest period, namely 1500-1700, so that the quality of the exhibits was uniformly high.  The three major sultanates emerged from the earlier Bahmanid kingdom around 1490 and survived until conquered by the Mughals in the 17th century, when most of their paintings and manuscripts seem to have perished. The British Library has an outstanding collection of this rare material and several of the key pieces from it were lent to the exhibition.

Chief among them perhaps is that rarest of all survivals, an illustrated Deccani manuscript from the 16th century (Add. 16880).  This is the Pem-nem, a Sufi romance in Dakhni Urdu written by Hasan Manju Khalji under the pen name of Hans, and dedicated to that great patron of the arts, Sultan Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah II of Bijapur (r. 1580-1627) in 999/1590-91 (an unfortunate typo in the New York catalogue (no. 29) gives the date as 990/1590-91).   This seems to be both the autograph and the only known copy of the text.   Three campaigns of illustration can be discerned in the manuscript in three varying styles over perhaps a period of 20 years.

Shahji wanders in search of his beloved Mahji, whose image is ingrained on his heart.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.49v.
Shahji wanders in search of his beloved Mahji, whose image is ingrained on his heart.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.49v.  noc

The story concerns Prince Shahji of Kuldip and his love for Mahji, a princess from Sangaldip, a love so ingrained in the prince that in a striking visual metaphor the beloved’s portrait is always present painted on his heart.

Shahji weeps streams of tears on realising that Mahji is only a reflection of the image in his heart. Hand B, Bijapur c. 1610.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.90v.
Shahji weeps streams of tears on realising that Mahji is only a reflection of the image in his heart. Hand B, Bijapur c. 1610.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.90v.  noc

Having found his beloved, he believes that she is only a reflection of the ideal image that he has borne on his heart and he rejects her.

Flames of unrequited passion arise from Mahji  as she mourns for her lost beloved.  Hand C, Bijapur c. 1600.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.138.
Flames of unrequited passion arise from Mahji  as she mourns for her lost beloved.  Hand C, Bijapur c. 1600.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.138.  noc

They separate each to a year of mourning and reflection, but eventually Shahji comes to realise that she is the true beloved not an idealised image and the two are reunited in wedlock.

Shahi lifts Mahji into the bridal palanquin.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.213v.
Shahi lifts Mahji into the bridal palanquin.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.213v.  noc

A full account of the story and its meaning along with illustrations of all the miniatures is given in a paper by Deborah Hutton (2011).  The tale is typical of the Prem kahani variety of Indian Sufi literature in being a metaphorical account of the search of the adept for God and in this instance not realising it when he has found it.

A royal picnic possibly of Burhan II Nizam Shah of Ahmadnagar (r. 1591-95).  Ahmadnagar, 1590-95.  British Library, Add.Or.3004
A royal picnic possibly of Burhan II Nizam Shah of Ahmadnagar (r. 1591-95).  Ahmadnagar, 1590-95.  British Library, Add.Or.3004  noc

Among the greatest rarities of Deccani art are drawings or paintings from the third of the successor states to the Bahmanid kingdom, that of Ahmadnagar.  The British Library is fortunate in possessing a masterful drawing of an enthroned ruler in a garden enjoying an al fresco picnic (Add.Or.3004, Haidar and Sarkar no. 17).  The sultan is gazing fixedly at the musicians to his right, while abstractedly accepting pan from one of his pages.  Others listen to the music or supervise the preparation of food and wine.  The hawk and the bow seem more pictorial accessories than employed on a hunting expedition, suggesting perhaps the drawing is a study of different groupings rather than a finished composition.  The central grouping of the ruler and the page is closely linked to the great contemporary painting in the Bibliothèque Nationale showing an Ahmadnagar ruler again possibly Burhan II being offered pan by a page (ibid., no. 14).  This artist’s technique is wonderfully fluent in his calligraphic, expressive lines and his use of stippling and shading.  Influence from Mughal art has been suggested as a key element in his style, perhaps when Burhan was a refugee at the Mughal court from 1585.   The influence however comes from the early Akbari style of the early portraits and the Hamzanama (in train 1564-77).  More remarkable still are the pronounced Hindu elements of the style such as the vestiges of the projecting further eye of mediaeval Indian painting, the eyelashes protruding into space, the continued use of the Hindu full-profile portraiture tradition and the totally Hindu pose of the Sultan whose legs are arranged on his throne in the classic padmasana posture.   All of this suggests an artist tradition plucked from Vijayanagar after the fall of that Hindu empire to the combined Deccan sultans in 1564.
A Mullah.  Bijapur, c. 1610.  British Library, J.25, 14.
A Mullah.  Bijapur, c. 1610.  British Library, J.25, 14.  noc

More paintings survive from Bijapur at this time than from Ahmadnagar and Golconda, all commissioned under the cultured rule of Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah.  One of his major artists, his name unknown, was a superlative portraitist.  He was responsible for another of the Library’s loans to New York, a portrait of a mullah wearing a distinctive turban wrapped round a red cap and an undyed shawl over this shoulders (ibid., no. 41).  The mullah’s upright bearing, staff and book seem the very embodiments of rigid orthodoxy but his keen and engaged gaze suggests an intelligent and enquiring mind.   He would have needed it in Ibrahim’s court, as the Sultan’s writings and images indicate an open mind towards Hinduism being devoted to Sarasvati, the goddess of music and learning.   The sternness of the portrait is relieved by the delightful touches of magical, all blue irises rising near his feet and two partridges busy hunting for food.

The colophon pages of a Qasida written by Mullah Nusrati in praise of ‘Abdallah Qutb Shah of Golconda (r. 1626-72).  Calligraphy by the son of Naqi al-Din Husaini.  Bijapur,  mid-17th century.  British Library, Or. 13533, ff. 28v, 29
The colophon pages of a Qasida written by Mullah Nusrati in praise of ‘Abdallah Qutb Shah of Golconda (r. 1626-72).  Calligraphy by the son of Naqi al-Din Husaini.  Bijapur,  mid-17th century.  British Library, Or. 13533, ff. 28v, 29  noc

Finally also lent to New York were four folios of a spectacularly illuminated manuscript (Or. 13533, ibid., no. 61) of a qasida or panaegyric by Mullah Nusrati, the court poet of Bijapur under Sultan ‘Ali ‘Adil Shah II (r. 1656-72).  The qasida is in praise of Sultan ‘Abdallah Qutb Shah of Golconda (r. 1626-72).  Although Bijapur and Golconda were often inimically disposed towards each other, amity descended for a while after the marriage in 1633 of the Golconda Sultan’s sister, Khadija Sultana, to Sultan Muhammad ‘Adil Shah of Bijapur (r. 1627-56), and this apparently early work of Nusrati may reflect this state of affairs.  Every page is elegantly calligraphed by ‘Ali ibn Naqi al-Din Husaini against a gold ground and illuminated with cartouches, lozenges or boldly drawn flowers in brilliant colours in the typically Deccani palette of chocolate, lilac, pink and green.   Naqi al-Din was the famous calligrapher whose name is signed several times on the Ibrahim Rauza, the exquisite tomb of Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah built ca. 1627-35.

Further reading:
Haidar, N., and Sardar, M., Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700s: Opulence and Fantasy, Metropolitan Museum, New York, 2015

Hutton, D., ‘The Pem-Nem:  a Sixteenth-Century Illustrated Romance from Bijapur’ in Haidar, N., and Sardar, M., eds., Sultans of the South: Arts of India’s Deccan Courts, 1323-1687, Metropolitan Museum, New York, 2011, pp. 44-63

Additional blogs of interest:
Rare portrait of Iklas Khan, the African Prime Minister of Bijapur, acquired by the British Library

An Album of Maratha and Deccani Paintings

 

J.P. Losty, Curator of Visual Arts (Emeritus)  ccownwork

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