Image details : Sir David Wilkie General Sir David Baird Discovering the Body of Sultan Tippoo Sahib after having Captured Seringapatam, on the 4th May, 1799 (1839) This enormous picture was commissioned after Sir David Baird’s death by his wife Lady Baird as a private memorial. It took four years to complete, and for Baird’s posthumous likeness, Wilkie turned to a sculpture by Laurence Macdonald (NG 2719). Baird had been in India with the British Army in 1779, and shortly after his arrival he was taken prisoner by Haidar 'Ali, the Indian ruler of the Mysore Kingdom. Imprisoned for four years, he was only released after the signing of the treaty of Mangalore. Baird remained in the army, returning to India in 1791 to participate in the third phase of the Anglo-Mysore War. Baird avenged himself by defeating Haidar 'Ali’s son, Tippoo Saib, at Seringapatam in 1792. Here, Baird is posed symbolically above the dungeon where he had been imprisoned. Source : National Galleries, Scotland

David Wilkie (1785-1841) One of the most majestic oil paintings relating to Tipu’s death was painted by David Wilkie many years after the event took place. The work was largely the result of a life-long personal grudge. The Scottish officer Sir David Baird (1757-1829), who had served in each Mysore war except the first, remained embittered until his death. He had not only endured imprisonment at Seringapatam for nearly four years but he had also led the storming party during the siege on 4 May 1799. Despite subsequent distinguished service in the army and many honours bestowed on him, Baird always considered that Colonel Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington), who was given command of Seringapatam following Tipu’s death, had usurped his position. Baird remained convinced that Arthur Wellesley, his junior at the time, had conspired against him to gain seniority. Even Baird’s official report to the Commander-in-Chief, General Harris, noted that he himself together with officers, Barry Close and Alexander Allan, had found Tipu’s body. Whatever may have happened, Baird’s attitude reflects the enormous prestige attached to this momentous event that ended the last Mysore war. After General Sir David Baird death in Perthshire in August 1829, Lady Baird continued her campaign for his military reputation. She asked Theodore Hook to write his biography and in 1833, his Life of Sir David Baird was published in London. The following year, Lady Baird commissioned the well-known painter and Royal Academician, Sir David Wilkie, to paint an enormous canvas portraying the precise moment when her husband discovered the body of Tipu Sultan. Born in Scotland of humble parentage, Wilkie initially studied in Edinburgh. Inspired by Hogarth’s expressive narrative works, Wilkie’s early success in the field of genre painting enabled him to move to London, where he entered the Royal Academy Schools in 1805. The following year his oil painting, ‘Village Politicians’, created a sensation at the Academy’s summer exhibition. His reputation as a perceptive painter of peasant subjects was launched, and he was soon attracting patrons including royalty and the aristocracy. Wilkie became increasingly interested in historical subjects, infusing an authenticity and directness into his subjects. His painting of Sir David Baird was no exception. During the picture’s preparation, Wilkie was much concerned with the position of Tipu within the overall composition and how the spectators would perceive him. In one early drawing, Tipu’s body was placed awkwardly in the right foreground. By the time Wilkie prepared the more finished drawing with three figures, however, he had decided where to place Tipu’s body. This group includes the only lady in the scene, who was certainly either Tipu’s mother or his wife (fig. 10). Her distraught expression with eyes cast downward looking at Tipu reveals her recognition as he lies horizontally across the foreground, supported by one of his followers crouching on the extreme left. It is mainly the man holding the lamp looking up at Baird imploring him to look down on Tipu, and to whom he is pointing, who provides the connection between Baird and the dead Tipu. In the drawing the killadar, or Governor of the Fort, (left) wears a turban; this was changed to a helmet in the finished painting. A young boy, probably Tipu’s son, replaced the dog visible in drawing. This particular group adds poignancy to the scene, while the lamp is the only obvious source of light in this highly dramatic composition. Wilkie made many sketches and drawings, which reveal his experiments with different compositions and lighting effects. Even the preliminary studies indicate his choice of a vertical format showing Baird standing and dominating the entire scene before the Hoally Gateway, with Tipu Sultan’s body lying in the foreground. Throughout these preparations, Wilkie was concerned with the juxtaposition of Baird and Tipu and, above all, with the psychological relationship between them. This he achieved in the painting, not so much directly between Baird and Tipu, but rather through the attitudes and gestures of the supporting figures. By early 1839, Wilkie’s painting was finished. Before being despatched to Lady Baird’s home in Scotland, it was displayed at the Royal Academy’s annual exhibition, where it was given pride of place above the President’s chair. The Academy’s catalogue gave the picture the following title: ‘General Sir David Baird Discovering the Body of Sultan Tippoo Sahib after Having Captured Seringapatam on the 4th May 1799’ Both the Duke of Wellington and Lady Baird attended the private view, at which ‘she seemed much satisfied with the position of the picture.’ At the dinner held at the Academy on 4 May, Wilkie informed his fellow guests at table that on ‘the same day forty years ago ... and at the same hour of the day, was the body of Tippoo found.’ Wilkie had taken over five years to complete this pictu

Professional Artists proceed to India By the time Wilkie’s painting was shown at the Royal Academy in 1839, exactly seventy years had elapsed since the first professional artist arrived in India. The reasons why artists in the British Isles considered a career in India are varied and complex. Portrait painters, several of whom also painted historical subjects, preceded the professional landscape artists by about ten years. This was mainly because portrait painting was already well established and generally a lucrative business among British society. In addition, the Directors of the East India Company considered that an opportunity to commission pictures would enhance the lives of their civilians and officers in India. There was also increasing scope for official commissions for public buildings, provided funds for such projects could be raised locally in Calcutta, Madras or Bombay. Any professional artist intending to travel to India needed permission from the Company Directors. It was also necessary to back the application with securities from a sponsor in England. The guarantor often needed to furnish financial securities, which could amount to a considerable sum. Obviously it was an advantage if the applicant knew one of the Company Directors or some prominent City merchant. Following the Directors’ meeting during which the application was considered, details would be recorded in the Court Minutes. These normally included the sponsor’s name, the security sum, the Presidency capital selected for residence, and the name of the ship designated for the voyage. Occasionally, when approval was denied, the Directors noted that the request had been ordered ‘to lie on the table’. Besides these details, the Company also maintained full records of all its army and civilian personnel, including lists of European inhabitants in each Presidency. Having been granted permission to proceed to India and having obtained letters of introduction to present on arrival, it was then necessary to secure a passage on the ship. Artists usually travelled on an East Indiaman if space permitted, but only after the Company servants had been accommodated. Vessels bound for India or China usually sailed between October and March, on account of the monsoon winds. It was only at certain times of the year that ocean-going vessels could arrive at and depart from ports in the region. After embarking generally from Blackwall, Gravesend or Portsmouth, the usual ports of call during the voyage included Madeira, St. Helena, and the Cape of Good Hope, where provisions and fresh water could be replenished. During the last quarter of the eighteenth century, trade with China was more profitable than with India. As a result, most East Indiamen called at Madras then sailed to Canton, while fewer vessels sailed to Calcutta or Bombay. Passengers bound for Calcutta sometimes disembarked at Madras and continued to Bengal by a local country boat. Others continued to China and returned to Bengal on board a country ship. For painters preparing to work in India, it was essential to take a large stock of artists’ materials to establish a studio. And before embarking, they also needed to make preparations for a voyage that would last a minimum of four to five months, or even a year or more depending upon the sailing conditions. Source : ILLWA

Re: " Baird always considered that Colonel Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington) ... had usurped his position. Baird remained convinced that Wellesley, his junior at the time, had conspired against him to gain seniority. " ... Arthur Wellesley's chances of promotion cannot have been harmed by having one or two friends in high places ~ his brother, Richard, was Governor-general at the time ! ...