
Lutyens and his Madras connection Premium
The Hindu
Explore Sir Edwin Lutyens' intriguing connections to Madras, highlighting his architectural legacy and personal ties to the city.
While I welcome Rajaji’s statue being installed at Rashtrapati Bhavan, the removal of Sir Edwin Lutyens’ bust from the premises is deplorable. Yes, he was undoubtedly racist. But there is no doubt that he was a brilliant architect who gave our capital city character. It was to be the last architectural stamp on that historic city, second only to that of the Mughals, who are persona non grata anyway. And let us not forget that the Rashtrapati Bhavan that he designed is still a national symbol that we love to flaunt.
But be that as it may, it was Lutyens’ connections to Madras that I thought of while I read the news item. Of course, it is well known that the memorial plaque that he designed for members killed in the First World War still is mounted on a wall at the Madras Club. And an elegant piece of marble it is. While the design was his, the execution was by J. Fenn & Co. of Madras. Lutyens stayed at the Club during his visit to study the architecture of the British Raj but the Club was then at Club House Road off Mount Road. And when it shifted premises, it made sure it took his plaque along, endowing it with a crack running across in the process.
The Mughal Gardens of Rashtarapati Bhavan in New Delhi. Sir Edwin Lutyens had finalised the designs of the Mughal Gardens as early as 1917, but it was only during the year 1928-1929 that plantings were done. | Photo Credit: V.V. Krishnan
The plaque itself now faces the Adyar River, in the direction of the Theosophical Society, a religious order that Lutyens looked at with mixed feelings. His wife, Lady Emily, daughter of former Viceroy of India, Lord Lytton, was an ardent Theosophist who spent months on end at Adyar. This, Sir Edwin did not like, for he felt that her place was by his side when he visited each year during the winter months from England to oversee the progress of New Delhi. And even on the few occasions she was in Delhi, she could, at a moment’s notice, drop everything and rush off to Madras. As she once wrote, the call was too powerful. Too powerful even to overlook a dinner with the viceroy.
Lady Emily had been made a member of the Theosophical Society by Annie Besant no less. In 1912, just a year after her husband had bagged the contract for New Delhi, she was playing an important behind-the-scenes role in getting J. Krishnamurti and his brother Nityananda to London so that they could be shielded from the famed adoption case of Besant vs. Narayaniah, in which The Hindu had a powerful role to play. It probably bankrolled Narayaniah as well in the litigation. Lutyens looked askance at his wife’s adoration of Krishnamurti. The messiah-to-be declared that he had found in her a mother’s love. Even after 1929, when Krishnamurti broke with the Theosophical Society, Lady Emily remained his champion and friend. This meant a complete severing of ties with the Theosophical Society, all of which is documented in the book Candles In The Sun that Lady Emily co-authored with her daughter Mary.
Dr. Annie Besant (left) and Lady Emily Lutyens, in March 1925. | Photo Credit: The Hindu Archives

The Clamorous reed warbler is as loud as they come, but in the urban environment, it is outshouted. Weed clearing in urban habitats brings down its home, the bulrushes. Bulrushes in wetlands are not encroachments, but ‘legal homes’ to birds in the crake and rail family and warblers, so government line agencies ought to tread on them thoughtfully

The Clamorous reed warbler is as loud as they come, but in the urban environment, it is outshouted. Weed clearing in urban habitats brings down its home, the bulrushes. Bulrushes in wetlands are not encroachments, but ‘legal homes’ to birds in the crake and rail family and warblers, so government line agencies ought to tread on them thoughtfully











