In search of a fort

Lakshmi Sharath hears a tale of how the British used cannonball shots to seal a deal and decides to explore

August 03, 2012 06:04 pm | Updated November 13, 2021 09:54 am IST

Ruins Is all that remains of Fort St. David today

Ruins Is all that remains of Fort St. David today

Another day, another town, and we hear another story. As I journey along the coastal villages of Tamil Nadu, listening to tales of yore, I see facets of India that were part of a different era — the colonial period. I am driving down what was once the foundation of the East India Company before Fort St George in Madras took over. And cannon shots apparently decided the outcome of the tale. I am in old Cuddalore.

I drive to the ancient port that wears the mask of an industrial town. The old harbour still has warehouses of the colonial days. I cross the river Gadilam and the bridge takes me to a bustling fishing village, full of life and colour, where fish is being transferred from barges to trucks. There is hectic activity and the entire area wears a festive air. But it’s business as usual in this part of town. I watch the men at work and then continue on my journey. I am looking for Fort St David.

I find no signs of it until a passerby directs me towards the beach, where there is no habitation but for a ruined house. Surrounded by dense vegetation, it has an eerie, haunted air to it. The colonial style is unmistakable and I wonder if it is Fort St David, but I learn that this was once a medical centre.

Moving on, I see another building with a watchman outside, who shows me the way to an old ruined bungalow located in a vast open space overgrown with dense vegetation. This is the old fort. A small plaque on the gate confirms it although I don’t find the name Fort St David anywhere. A family living opposite tells me that they are the caretakers of the building, now under the Arcot Lutheran Church.

Water flows around the bungalow like a moat, as I walk around it. The caretaker tells me that the tunnels are closed. A white grave stands in the middle of nowhere. I learn that the fort and the lands nearby were bought by the British from the Marathas as part of the ‘cannon ball villages’. The story goes that a cannon ball was fired in all four directions and all the land in the range of the shots became a British settlement.

Driving on in the neighbourhood, I finally see the name Fort St David on a bungalow. But the locals insist that the original fort is not this, but the ruined old house surrounded by water. I move on, as canons echo in my ears and take another detour to enter another crowded town. It is time to hear more stories.

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