Precarious History

Are our historical objects safe in museums?

Relatively, one might say. Isn’t it better than being locked inside a windowless room, in solitary confinement, never to see the light of day?

I would agree especially since the Indian government, especially state government are known for their apathetic response to portable heritage. It is a well-known fact that a lot of historical sculptures especially bronze statues that have been returned to India from western museums and private collections are at present literally rotting (from bronze disease) in government storage facilities across the country. (For more on bronze disease, click here.)

But even when conservatorially safe as displayed objects in museum collections in India and abroad, their precarity takes on other forms. As someone who has spent what feels like a lifetime in museums across the world in the last few years, I strongly believe that precarity of historical objects stem from human and scholarly apathy. One particular story of precarity is discussed in this post - the precarity arising from lack of historical knowledge.

Prince William and Queen Victoria’s Ivory Throne

Official portrait of Queen Victoria as ‘Empress of India’ on the Travancore ivory throne, 1876. Image Courtesy: Royal Collection Trust, UK

In 2014, a huge brouhaha followed a surprise announcement by Prince William of UK: he suggested that as a symbolic warning to ivory poachers in Africa and elsewhere, all historic ivory objects in the Royal Collections Trust should be burned and destroyed. While wildlife conservationists applauded this decision, museum professionals were aghast, saying that such a move would take historical objects and make them into “artworks of shame.” In the following years, there have been calls to consider “reason, not passion,” when thinking of solutions for ivory poaching.

Mired in this tussle was one of the most prominent objects in the royal collection—the ivory throne of Queen Victoria. Newspapers after newspapers produced the resplendent watercolor image of the throne in full royal display at The Great Exhibition of 1851 when it was exhibited. The throne was a gift object presented to Queen Victoria by king Uthram Thirunal Marthanda Varma of Travancore, part of the modern state of Kerala, India. Completely worked by ivory carvers from the region and explicitly made as an objects of mediation and diplomacy, the throne in its function and structure is not British at all. It did, however, become an integral part of Queen Victoria’s interiors. Prince Albert, Royal Consort and beloved husband of the queen, used the throne as his presiding seat at the closing ceremony of The Great Exhibition, a program which he had patronized and helped bring to fruition. Perhaps it was this association with Prince Albert, but his widow chose this throne as her chair of state in 1876 when she was crowned The Empress of India. (You can read more about this throne in this post.)

Today the ivory throne is carted off and hidden from the Garter Throne Room in Windsor Castle when there are official dinners and other events so as to not politicize its presence and what it means to have such objects in the royal collection.

The call for its destruction and its erasure from the public eye during important events comes from the understanding that the throne is simply made of ivory and this material quality defines the object. In the course of studying this throne, I have come across documents that not only provide a colorful trail of stories of how the throne came to England but also a distinct understanding that the throne is not completely made of ivory as most people think it is. Its structure is of a particular type of wood (if you want to know what wood it is and where it came from, you will have to read my dissertation, available to public in a few months, I promise!). A good part of what is considered the material of ivory is not ivory from the tusk of the elephant but actually its teeth! In addition, the chance that the teeth came out of a domesticated elephant that naturally sheds its teeth six times in its life is higher than the alternative, that the teeth came from an elephant captured and killed for ivory. For in Kerala, elephants are a semi-venerated mammal, a very omnipresent animal important to temple activities across the state even today. While we can question the inhumaneness of taming an untameable wild animal, in Kerala, historically elephants where never actively killed for game. (This has since changed and poaching has been a serious issue in the last few decades.)

For our purposes here, the brouhaha about the throne and its threatened destruction is borne out a lack of knowledge about its materials and how it was produced.

There is also the sense that the throne is representative of only British monarchy when clearly it is as much an objects of Kerala as it is of Queen Victoria. Its material, design, patronage, and circulation originated from Travancore. It remains one of the premiery artistic objects made in the nineteenth century in Travancore. Its destruction would be a significant blow to an already understudied region whose artistic heritage is limited due to the prolific use of organic materials that are easily lost to time.

In the case of Queen Victoria’s ivory throne then production of historical knowledge is an ideal way to distance the throne from the discussion of ivory. The object is more than its material. For me, creation of knowledge is an activism and part of the project to preserve precarious objects like the ivory throne.

There are many other ways in which objects are in danger of being destroyed physically or erased from history. In the ethnonationalist world that we live in today, the presence of heritage objects become all the more necessary as visual reminders of the plural and interconnected cultures that came before us.

If you would like to see more on endangered objects, leave a comment below.

What Archival Research in Kerala Looks Like

Click here to skip introduction.

I mainly discuss decorative arts of Kerala and related visual/material culture on here (see my page on objects) but a lot of my current work involves analyzing and interpreting thousands of pages of archival records gathered from state archives in Kerala and the APAC archives at British Library in London. (I have more Dutch records that I collected from Tamil Nadu State Archives awaiting me, and I am petrified about reading these eighteenth-century records with my rudimentary knowledge of early modern Dutch.) 

Kerala State Archives (central archives have two wings in Thiruvananthapuram - one at Nalanda at the Archives Directorate and the other at the central archives in the Fort area) has been a surprisingly pleasant experience in that the directorate's permissions for access and photography is one of the easiest I have encountered in India. Kerala's archival records are also some of the better catalogued and archived of the institutions I have come across in the last five years. 

That said, recovering information from these records require a good reading proficiency in Malayalam (older twentieth-century script) including Malayalam numerals, fractions, and particular words that are now outside of the modern vocabulary. In this post, I have picked a simple Neettu record (royal writ) to show how I work with archival records. My intention here is to approach the records "against the grain" as Ann Stoler says, to gather information about furniture and decorative objects used in Travancore palaces and related buildings. Neettu records at the Central Archives (Fort) are largely from the nineteenth century, although there are a handful from as early as Marthanda Varma's reign.

Below, I provide the original transcription of an ola record at the archives and demonstrate my process of interpretation. (The original ola written in old Malayalam are practically unreadable and you cannot get permission to access them.) 

I spent my first few days going through their many catalogs to find records that I thought were relevant to me. Once I had them indexed, I went through the list photographing all the pages one after the other. Each day, I jotted down which volumes I covered and then uploaded them on the cloud. Here's what a fairly good transcription (in thankfully a readable handwriting) looks like:

Since I live abroad and have limited research time in Kerala, I don't interpret these records immediately, I skim them to get keywords that I input into my index along with relevant dates so that I can look them up easily later. This is what my index looks like on an excel sheet (they are color coded in a very confusing way but they work for me!)

When I start working on a particular record, I find it easier to first transliterate the record using Google Malayalam online writing tool. Writing it makes it easier for me to understand the text more than merely reading does, and once it is all typed in neat Malayalam with all the Malayalam numerals converted to English, it is far more easier to access. I then transfer the information from Google to the database I maintain for my research (I use DEVONthink Pro Office). On the same document, I also complete a rough translation of the important parts of the text in very simple and rather curt English so that I can access information quickly when I have to write my chapters. As soon as I create a new archive record document, I tag it with all the important words in the text which makes the document more searchable, and any large group analysis much easier. 

Here's the gist of this Neettu: Maharaja (from the date provided in the record we know it is Uthradom Thirunal Marthanda Varma) in 1847CE orders an ivory palanquin to be built for him. 

A new palanquin is to be built for the king from the Maramath department by Kulathoorāan Perumal who has sent an ōla requesting 17.25 tulam (1 tulam = 10 grams) ivory as well as for other miscellaneous materials including gilding brass ormolu ornaments for which a cost of 7159 panam has been asked for. For this purpose, the amount of ivory mentioned must be supplied from the palace and money for transporting the ivory, for the workmanship, and other miscellaneous expenses has to be procured from the treasury and palanquin production speedily completed. This money is to be asked from Narasimhan Thampi who is in charge of the treasury and a letter has been sent to him in this regard. This money has to be entered into the account and this information has been passed to "Shraappu" Subba Naik as well. This note has been sent with all the instruction to Dewan Krishna Rao on 1024th year of the Malayalam Era, in the month of Vrischika, on the 27th day.

Note: This is not an exact translation of the Neettu. I have approximated (I just learned that this is an actual, usable word!) and simplified it for ease of access. 

PS: If you would like to see more of these notes or other tools I use for research, let me know in the comments. 

Queen Victoria's Ivory Throne: Some Mentions at the 1904 St Louis World's Fair (St Louis Purchase Exposition)

Last year, I found a small cut-out from The Insurance Press, an insurance newspaper that described the ivory throne presented by Maharaja Uthram Thirunal Marthanda Varma of Travancore to Queen Victoria of England. The throne was seen by one of the newspaper reporters at the St. Louis Purchase Exposition in St. Louis, Missouri. My contact at the Royal Collection Trust (RCT), which manages the throne now, was as surprised as I was at this information for most of the records on the throne were lost in the fire at Windsor Castle. 

Right: Cut-out from The Insurance Press vol.17, December 16, 1903, page 12, Publisher: F. Webster (From New York Public Library, Digitized by Google); Left: Ivory Throne, Windsor Castle, UK, copyright: Royal Collection Trust

The short paragraph in Insurance Press from December 1903 reads:

"Among the priceless treasures comprising the Jubilee presents of Queen Victoria, which have been sent to America by King Edward of England, for exhibition at  the World's Fair, is a wonderful ivory chair and footstool. These were presented to the late queen by the Maharajah of Travancore. The carving on the chair and the footstool is a revelation of the possibilities of art. The feet are in the form of lions' paws, and the arms terminate in lions' heads. The back is in the form of a shell, supported by elephants, rampant. The seat is of alabaster, and the chair has a gold and silver tissue drapery around the underside of the frame, finished with tassels and richly chased ormolu ornaments. The cushions are of green velvet, embroidered in gold and silver thread. Every outside part of the chair is covered with delicately carved figures of men and animals."

There is no doubt from the description that the throne in question is the Travancore ivory throne, even though a few of the details are questionable and/or inaccurate. For example, the report claims the seat to be made of alabaster, but it is actually made of elephant teeth. (See a conservation video from RCT here for a closer look.) But other details such as the mention of tassels and tissues lining the underside of the throne is accurate, as seen in an 1851 salted paper print of the throne below (left). 

Left: Ivory Throne and Footstool, 1851; RIght: Official Portrait of Queen Victoria as 'Empress of India' on Ivory Throne, 1876 (Images: Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2016)

While information about the throne's visit to the United States is scant, I found some more mentions of the throne in other publications. In the History of Louisiana Purchase Exposition (Bennitt et. al, 1905), the throne is listed among many other things in the collection that's referred to, again, as "Jubilee presents of Queen Victoria" sent by "the subject princes of her Indian Empire" (Bennitt et al., 1905: 268). The throne is described as the "elegantly carved ivory chair of state" (ibid.). The collection that authors mark as over 400 in number, is mentioned specially as one that stands out among all the displays from the British empire. The authors are keen to point out its popularity in general and particularly with the female viewers: "Four towering London "Bobbies," in the regulation police uniform, took turns in guarding these priceless relics of Queen Victoria's reign, and the throngs passing in and out of the room from the opening to the closing everyday showed that, in offering these exhibits, King Edward had not overestimated the interest American women would take in these testimonials to his venerated mother." (Bennitt et al., 1905: 269) 

It is interesting to see what else was included in the large exhibition that in the official press release was titled "The King's Contribution."

THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION.PRESS, VOLUME LXI, ISSUE 11877, 26 APRIL 1904; http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19040426.2.7 

From Travancore, there were some other objects in the descriptive list provided here. These include:

"Two great pairs of tusks sent to the late Queen by the Maharajah of Travancore will prove of great interest. These tusks are probably the largest, ever seen. They bear this inscription : —• "Pair of elephant's tusk*, mounted on a buffalo's head carved in ebony, which is supported on four griffins." The tusks are supported higher up by a crossbar of ebony, the whole resting on the heads of four figures representing the incarnations of Vishnu."

Unattributed to Travancore, but another mention of elephant tusk objet d'art follows:

"A pair of elephant's tusks, mounted as flower vases on a stand of rosewood, covered with ivory, is another interesting exhibit. The tusks are mounted with gold, and are entwined by a pepper vine in fruit worked in gold. The vases are supported on two elephants' heads carved in ebony, and rising from out of a base of rock and jungle worked in ivory and elephants' teeth. The trunks of the elephants support a lotus of ivory on which is seated a golden image of Lukshine [Lakshmi], the Goddess of Prosperity."

A little later in the description, the ivory throne is mentioned:

"The Maharajah who sent the pair of tusks sent also a beautiful chair—a sort of Sedan chair of state that is literally covered with gold and diamonds. It has some wonderful ivory carving on- its legs and back and seat. The seat is of alabaster and is hung with gold and silver."

The press release as well as eye-witness accounts of the throne had a large circulation as seen in the appearance of these descriptions in smaller local newspapers like the Kentucky weekly Mt. Sterling Advocate, that posted a small article seen in the image below (Digression: the newspaper's tagline reads, "EDITORIALLY Strictly Democratic; cannot be sidetracked, opposes all class and vicious legislation.") After a description of the throne as seen in the press release above, and with an added accolade cited from Scientific American: "a revelations in the possibilities of art," the articles goes on to describe other items made of elephant tusks. But here, for perhaps, an added dramatic measure, the author remarks: "The maharajah, not satisfied with these truly princely gift, presented also to her majesty two immense pairs of elephants' tusks..." (For more information, see: http://kdl.kyvl.org/catalog/xt7tx921dn3k_8/viewer)

Clearly, the throne and other objets d'art in this discussion is representative of the era of high imperialism, and a definite romanticization of the assorted east in North America, at the time. The association of the throne to the Queen as well as its position as a "gift" from a "subject prince" of India is duly mentioned in all the chronicles, suggesting that the throne remained in popular conception, a political conduit of imperial relationships. More on this can be read in my paper on the role of the ivory throne as political negotiator in British-Travancore relations; abstract can be read here.)

It is also interesting to note here that the throne, contrary to all the descriptions of it provided here, was not  a Jubilee gift to the Queen, which happened in 1887 and, then in 1897. The throne was presented to the Queen about 35 years earlier in 1851 at the occasion of the Great Exhibition of Industry of All Nations at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, London. The throne was sent as an exhibit-object at the Great Exhibition, following which, Maharaja Uthram Thirunal of Travancore had insisted in the accompanying letter, the Queen accept it as a royal gift. (For more on the topic, you can read a rather long excerpt of my paper on the production of Queen Victoria's ivory throne here.) 

In 1851, far from being a subject prince, Travancore considered itself a kingdom autonomous from British-controlled India, and the Maharaja makes that distinction clear in the letter he writes to the Queen, describing Travancore as the small state "neighboring" Her Majesty's empire. We also know from contemporaneous accounts that the throne was initially designed for the Maharaja, and later re-assigned as a gift for the Queen. An erasure of the throne's production history can be seen at play here. 

In any case, these various mentions serves to demonstrate the immediate visibility of the ivory throne amongst hundreds of exhibits from the imperial collection, and the alluring quality of the ivory carvings, that find repeated mention in all accounts. 

Parting note: It remains to be studied why the ivory throne from Travancore was chosen as Queen Victoria's chair of state in 1877 when she took the title of 'Empress of India.'

---

Note: All images used in this post, except for those taken by the author with the permission of Royal Collection Trust, belong to the Royal Collection Trust. Photographs by author have been taken after receiving permission from Royal Collection Trust, UK. All rights reserved.

References:

Bennitt, Mark, and Frank Parker Stockbridge. 1905. History of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition: comprising the history of the Louisiana territory, the story of the Louisiana Purchase and a full account of the great exposition, embracing the participation of the states and nations of the world, and other events of the St. Louis World's Fair of 1904. Saint Louis: Universal Exposition Pub. Co.

The Insurance Press. 1905. New York: [F. Webster]. http://books.google.com/books?id=tIRQAAAAYAAJ.

 

Prince Aleksandr Saltuikov's Travancore

In 1841, Aleksandr Mikhailovich Saltuikov (1806-1859), a Russian of means and an aristocratic lineage, came to India as a tourist with access to the highest echelons of British colonial society, and by extension, to many Indian Rajas of the time. I first came across Saltuikov name as I was perusing travelogues of Europeans in India in the nineteenth century. Saltuikov stood out as he was a talented artist in addition to being a charismatic writer. His sketches were made into lithographs by L. H. de Rudder in 1848, originals of which are now in the British Library collection in UK. (You can also find them all over the internet, and most easily, on Wikipedia.) One of the images from his travelogue, Lettres Sur L’inde, accompanied Saltuikov’s description of Travancore, the most prominent kingdom on the Malabar Coast of India. In this short account, Saltuikov describes his meeting with Maharaja Swathi Thirunal, his brother Uthram Thirunal, and a couple of British officers stationed there. The description is remarkably free of the usual misgivings that accompany European accounts of Indian peoples at this time.[1]

The image titled Éléphants du Radja de Travancor (Elephants of Travancore Raja) was made after Saltuikov’s initial visit to the king and his brother at which time Swathi Thirunal generously offered Saltuikov caparisoned elephants to paint. In this essay, I dig a little deeper into the monochromatic surface of this engaging lithograph, created some six years after Saltuikov's initial in-situ sketches.

Éléphants du Radja de Travancor, Trivandrum. Mai 1841. Original sketch: Aleksandr Saltuikov; Lithograph: L.H. Rudder, 1848. (Image Courtesy: British Library)

The elephants and their mahouts are set against the background of densely-packed coconut palms, scenery as typical of Kerala today as it was during Saltuikov’s visit. In front of the coconut grove are arranged a total of six elephants, with two of the biggest decked in cloth covering, over which are set massive howdahs. These elephants face the painter frontally while two elephants of medium-size are lined up to the side, and a smaller elephant completes the arrangement on the opposite side. Behind them, towards the edge of the viewing plane on the left, you can see the head of the sixth elephant almost as large as the largest elephants in the center of the group. Each elephant has at least one mahout atop it, equipped with elephant goads. 

Detail of lithograph showing the group of people gathered to watch the scene along with soldiers of the British East India Company.

As can be expected of Malayalis until very recently, most men in the image, mahouts as well as by-standers, wear mundu (dhoti) with no upper garment. Women (see image above), characteristically for the time, are either wearing a version of the sari with no blouse or one, holding a child, is bare-chested, like most of the men in the picture. These women wear simple but beautiful jewelry that, even in this lithograph print, can be identified as shiny gold. Upon close observation, the earrings they wear are easily recognized as thoda, a traditional Malayali ear ornament. A choker necklace and a number of bangles complete their simple attire.[2]

Detail of two young men in North-India servant attire.

Other scholars have raised the question of the two curiously costumed men (see image above) who appear to be the focus of the image. I concur with these scholars that the turbaned jama-and-sash-wearing men are quite out of place in Kerala, and more characteristic of Awadh court servants than Travancore. However, it is quite possible that these men are house servants of the British officers who were showing Saltuikov around, like the men in Colonel Mordaunt’s Cock Match. An 1842 sketch of a typical British household in India shows domestic servants dressed in the same manner with one of them even sporting a colorful sash across his shoulders with a pin on it, just like our young men here. The turbaned jama-wearers have called into question the accuracy of Saltuikov’s depictions of the scene, and by extension, all his sketches from the travelogue.

Detail showing liveried soldier in side profile and behind him, another soldier placed frontally.

Yet, details such as the costume of locals, and particularly, the two foot soldiers (above) on the far right, is correctly portrayed. When closely observed, the soldiers can be identified as Madras Native Foot Artillery (see image below) whose uniform consisted of blue jackets, doubles sashes and trousers in white, and a matching blue busby cap, with their weaponry that included musket, sword, and gunpowder flask. Because of such accurate detailing, I am inclined to speculate that the two jama-wearing men were part of Saltuikov’s retinue, perhaps domestic servants of the British officer Cullen with whom Saltuikov lived, and not merely a figment of his colorful imagination. It should be noted that other lithographs from Saltuikov's collection made by Rudder exhibits some amount of dramatization, but this could be taken as characteristic of mid-nineteenth century style of painting in Europe, like Eugène Delacroix's works. (Saltuikov is known to have  met Delacroix in Paris during his stay there as well.)

Painting; gouache and watercolour, Six figures depicting military uniforms, Tanjore, ca. 1830. Figure on the far right is in the uniform of foot artillery of the Madras British East India Company army. (Image courtesy: Victoria and Albert Museum)

Here’s a list of all the people in the lithograph: seven men on top of the elephants, five mahout-assistants on the ground with sticks, some sitting, two holding the tusks of pachyderms, two short Brahman boys next to our dashing turbaned friends mentioned earlier, one shrouded turbaned man with stick on the far left, three more men accompanying the four women and child on the right edge of the image, next to the liveried soldiers. There are also a few more shadowy human figures finding their way about the elephants. The whole arrangement, at least of the two turbaned men at the center, the sub-mahouts in various postures, and the elephants arranged to give at once their frontal and side views, suggest some amount of staging of people and animals, like one would for a formal family portrait.

It is quite possible that the tableau was set in place for the benefit of Saltuikov, an esteemed guest of Travancore. Or, Saltuikov made the arrangement himself in order to get the best possible details for his drawings. Indeed, Maharaja Swathi Thirunal had gone all out in welcoming his guest. Saltuikov in his letters write: “I was showered with courtesies in this court. They brought me elephants with howdahs on top for me to do rough sketches of them. […] I’ll always remember the kindnesses they wanted to bestow on me in Travancore.”[3] 

If you look carefully at the compositional elements of the lithograph, it is obvious that Saltuikov was not merely producing rough sketches but capturing careful ethnographic observations of both animals and people in the picture. The liveried soldiers described above stand at ninety degrees to one another, giving Saltuikov a complete overview of their detailed uniforms and weaponry. Similarly, the elephants are placed in such a way that the Russian prince can observe and sketch these animals from all sides without having to resort to turning them around to have full and complete view.

What did this setting look like on the day Saltuikov sketched it?

The shiny thoda earrings worn by the women in the image and the metal rings and caps on blunted elephant tusks were easy enough to construct, as were the clothes of most of the people present—they must have been off-white cotton, the most common material available. One of the sub-mahouts squatting to center-right of the image wears a dotted cloth, perhaps one made of simple kasavu. May be he had dressed up to be painted by a Russian prince!

What struck my imagination were the three howdahs atop the two elephants in the center, howdahs that Saltuikov mentions were sent by the Rajah for his painting pleasure. I happened to see howdahs similar to these from Swathi Thirunal’s time on my visit to Thiruvananthapuram last year. I am convinced that the howdahs I saw are the same ones sitting atop the elephants in this lithograph, unfortunately I have no photographs to provide as evidence. (Photos of howdahs coming in Fall 2016!) The two on top of the elephant on the left—one octagonal in shape and the other square—had silver bases with red cloth for umbrellas. Ferrules, tassles, and other adornments on the umbrella were gold in color while the struts holding them up were silver. These are at Kuthiramaalika Palace near Padmanabhaswamy Temple.[4] The lotus-shaped howdah on the right is perhaps the famous one now on display at Napier Museum (Government Museum) in Thiruvananthapuram. We cannot be sure of the colors of the clothes covering the elephants but it could be white cotton as well. The elephants with their spotted-grey color naturally offers a contrast to these bright colors up on top. But, perhaps, it is the iridescent green of the coconut palm grove that not only provides the backdrop to the arrangements but stimulate the reds, golds, and silver of the howdahs further to provide a spectacular tableau.

Saltuikov, a trained artist who was tutored by Aleksandr Orlowski, a painter of some renown in Russia, would of course have anticipated this mix of colors. He may have been even aware of poet-politician Johann Goethe’s Zur Farbenlehre (Theory of Colours), a semi-scientific text that theorized colors on the basis of human emotions they evoked. While Goethe’s work drew ire from critics, many prominent philosophers like Ludwig Wittgenstein engaged with it. (See Maria Popova’s short summary of Goethe’s color theory here.) Goethe identifies dark red and dark green as opposite colors in his color wheel, the most striking colors of our tableau here, as colors that provide stimulus to one another. He identifies red with emotions like gravity, dignity, grace and attractiveness. From green the eye, he says, “experiences a distinctly grateful impression.” Green may have been Goethe’s favorite color; he goes on to write: “The beholder has neither the wish nor the power to imagine a state beyond it. Hence for rooms to live in constantly, the green color is most generally selected.”

Saltuikov, if not aware of Goethe’s color wheel or theory of color-emotions, was certainly inclined to put these colors together to create an alluring image, one that, even on monochromatic scale of the lithograph seen above, captures the viewer’s attention instantly. As you spend some time with the lithograph, the vividness of the setting seeps into you, as would the whispers of the wind through the coconut palm grove and the quiet tingling of the bells around the backs of the elephants. 

Note: All images used are either available online or are available on British Library and V&A Museum Collections online.

[1] For a detailed account of Saltuikov and his writings on India, see Richard Walding et al. “The Russian Prince and the Maharajah of Travancore,” Journal of Kerala Studies Vol. XXXVI (Thiruvananthapuram: University of Kerala Press, 2009): 10-87.

[2] For a detailed view of this lithograph, go to British Library webpage: http://www.bl.uk/onlinegallery/onlineex/apac/other/zoomify65634.html

[3] Walding, 53.

[4] Kuthiramaalika Palace was Swathi Thirunal’s official home during his reign. It now houses all of Swathi Thirunal’s material possessions including courtly objet d’art like thrones and mirrors.