Ruwanwella: Colourful history of battles and diplomacy
Hay McDowall in Ruwanwella on his way to an embassy with the King of Kandy. McDowall’s men had already encountered what the Dutch had dubbed the ‘worst enemies’ they had on the island – its leeches. “The men were infested in this march by leeches to a most alarming degree, and most of them had their legs and different parts of their bodies streaming with blood,” Mr. Medis says. Bloodthirsty parasites were, however, just one of the many obstacles McDowall and the 19th Regiment had to face as they braved the old Colombo-Kandy road.
Four battalion companies, supplemented with native troops set out from Colombo with the intention of making their way to Kandy via Sithawaka and Ruwanwella. So far, they had found the going very hard indeed. “Finally the path taken by McDowall’s troops became so bad that the artillery had to be left five miles in the rear with an escort of sepoys whilst the 19th Regiment and the rest of the native troops marched to the King’s Royal Gardens near ‘Ruanelle’ where they encamped,” says Mr. Medis. In total, the trip would take them many days and toward the end General McDowall would be forced to leave his heavy guns behind and press on to Kandy with a smaller complement of officers. He and his party would return to Colombo only on the 14th of May, having expended a month of their lives on an agonising journey that today would have taken him a matter of hours.
The embassy to Kandy has since been immortalised in history but at that time, the group’s determined members shed sweat, blood and tears to make what was essentially a courtesy call. “The object of the mission was to keep up friendly intercourse with the kings as well as with a view to political objects of importance,” says Mr. Medis. With so many ambitious men about, the peace was a fragile thing. Just two years later, the British would march down the same route, this time intent on claiming recompense from the Kandyan King for goods (primarily a large stock of arecanut and 602 cattle) that had been confiscated from their Moorish trading partners. They were accused of being spies for the British, who at that point governed the low country maritime provinces. The Adigar Pilimatalauwe, himself suspected of having designs on the throne, was believed to be behind the move. Repeated demands for compensation from the local British government were ignored by the Kandyan court.
At the head of a small army, the first British governor of Ceylon, Frederick North would take the road through Ruwanwella to Kandy, determined to claim his recompense by force. Though he would be handily rebuffed, Mr. Medis believes the campaign marked the beginning of the war that would dethrone the King in the hills. “The thrust of my argument is that Ruwanwella was at the central whorl of the calamity which triggered the war with Kandy,” says Mr. Medis, offering his version of the build up to the decisive battle that would take place over a decade later.
Though Thomas Maitland would take over from Governor North, the glory of conquering the Kandyan kingdom that had survived over 2,000 years would go to another man – Robert Brownrigg. The Kandyan court had already begun to fracture from within, when in 1814, 10 villagers who were found trading in the British controlled area near Colombo became the catalysts for war. They were sent back to the Colombo city by the King of Kandy with their right hands, right ears and noses cut and tied around their necks. Having left a trail of blood behind them, seven died en route. It was all the excuse Governor Brownrigg needed to declare war. Amongst chieftains from Sabaragamuwa, a proclamation was made at Ruwanwella on February 10, 1815 in which they committed to ousting the King of Kandy but promised that the Buddhist religion would be held sacred.
Though determined to bolster the defences by repairing and even constructing fresh fortifications at Ruwanwella and elsewhere, Governor Brownrigg found himself short of ready money. “To obtain permission from Britain, for the minting of coins for this purpose – especially for the payment of labour and the defence of the establishment would take weeks, sometimes months,” explains Mr. Medis, adding that this led Governor Brownrigg to take the audacious step of minting his own money, unsanctioned by the powers that be. His token silver piece or Fanam was worth 1/12th of a Ceylon Rix-Dollar and amounted to the daily wage of a labourer.
“Ruwanwella fort and many other defences were probably funded and paid for by the Fanam tokens which are now rare numismatic items,” says Mr. Medis. Having successfully brazened it out, Governor Brownrigg would have an eventful stay in Ceylon – riding out the unrest of 1818 as well before returning home in 1820 with his wife. Today, his initials can still be seen over the entrance arch of the fort at Ruwanwella. Having played such a pivotal role in history, the fort at Ruwanwella has now become the home for the local police station. However, for history buffs a visit to the site has its rewards – especially if they take along someone who knows its colourful history, says Mr. Medis.