Historical Sketches Of The South India In An Attempt To Trace The History Of Mysore.

India, 1799. From his fortified palace at Seringapatam, the warrior potentate Tipu Sultan rules the state of Mysore with an iron fist. Known by his subjects as the Tiger of Mysore, Tipu obsessively worships these great cats, taking their predatory ways as his own. Protected by his fanatically devoted Tiger Guard, the Sultan fears neither man nor beast. The British covet Mysore for themselves, and have dispatched an army of thousands to wrest it from the Sultan's clutches. Although the vampire Colonel Arthur Wellesley is not yet the Duke of Wellington, he has already begun to show flashes of that military genius which will one day propel him to the heights of glory. But first, Wellesley and his redcoats must hunt the tiger across the desolate moonlit plains of India, tracking the beast back to his lair behind the heavily-fortified walls of Seringapatam. The hunter will soon become the hunted, and when the vampire faces off against the tiger, the land of Mysore will run red with blood. There can be only one victor.

The correspondence between Sir Ronald Ross (1857-1932) and Sir Patrick Manson (1844-1922) is rich in both scientific and human terms. It records, in great detail, Ross's research in India between 1895 and 1899, which elucidated the role of mosquitoes in the transmission of malaria, work for which Ross was awarded the 1902 Nobel Prize for Medicine or Physiology. Ross described the mosquito-transmission theory as Manson's 'Grand Induction', and he had returned to India, where he was an officer in the Indian Medical Service, having been primed by Manson. Ross's regular letters to his mentor document the frustrations and false trails as well as the excitement of discovery. Manson in turn acted as a kind of agent in London, publicising his findings, offering advice and seeking to use his influence to secure for Ross the working conditions he so desired. These 173 letters, plus 85 from the two decades after Ross's return to Britain also record the rise and full of a relationship, as Ross's preoccupation with his place in the history of malariology led to a breach between the two men. Themes of priority, nationalism, and personal vanity punctuate this latter correspondence, which also reveals new insights about the golden years of tropical medicine. Ross included some of the correspondence in his Memoirs, but most of it appears here, fully annotated, for the first time.

This book is a study of selected texts of British writings on Indian wildlife published between 1860 and 1960. Set in the context of British colonial rule in India, this book also reflects on similar situations across the British Empire and other colonial empires. The destruction of wildlife in the making of empires is a subject not yet fully explored in scholarship. This book aims to speak to global concerns regarding the extinction of several species and shows that the crisis has international roots. The Inhuman Empire breaks new grounds as it juxtaposes colonial narratives to folk narratives. These two types of narratives treat nonhuman animals very differently – folk narrative considers them sentient beings, while colonial narratives see them as ‘game’ and do not care for their sentience. Both types of narratives are further evaluated with reference to the contemporary position of natural sciences regarding animal sentience and of anthropologists and philosophers regarding the relationship between nature and culture. Analyzing colonial accounts of hunting, the author looks at the pain and suffering of nonhuman animals and combines statistics alongside narratives of British writers, Indian populace and nonhuman animals in order to show narratives' reflect and impact reality. This book will be of great value to those interested in Animal Studies, Folkloristics, the history of Colonialism and India.