In 1597, a Portuguese Jesuit priest named Father Pimenta arrived at what was then considered one of India’s most magnificent and impregnable fortresses. His vivid account of Gingee provides us with a rare glimpse into the golden age of this South Indian stronghold, which contemporaries called the “Troy of the East.”

A Chance Encounter in Chidambaram
Father Pimenta’s journey to Gingee began with an unexpected meeting. While traveling through Tamil Nadu, he encountered Krishnappa Nayaka at the sacred temple town of Chidambaram, where the ruler was personally overseeing repairs to the Govindaraja temple. This detail alone speaks volumes about Krishnappa’s hands-on approach to governance and his devotion to maintaining the region’s religious heritage.
Krishnappa Nayaka was no ordinary ruler. Having recently been released from prison through the diplomatic efforts of Raghunatha Nayaka of Tanjore, he had returned to govern what Jesuit records confirm was a remarkably prosperous kingdom. His wisdom and administrative skills had transformed Gingee into one of the subcontinent’s most formidable citadels.
“The Greatest City We Have Seen in India”
Father Pimenta’s description of Gingee reads like something from a medieval romance, yet it was written as factual observation. Upon approaching the city, he was overwhelmed by its scale and grandeur:
“We went to Gingee – the greatest city we have seen in India and bigger than any in Portugal except Lisbon.”
Consider the weight of this comparison. Lisbon in 1597 was the heart of a global maritime empire, one of Europe’s most important cities. For a Portuguese visitor to rank an Indian city second only to his homeland’s capital speaks to Gingee’s truly extraordinary status.
The fortress itself defied easy description. Built into and around natural rock formations, it combined the best of military engineering with the dramatic landscape of the region. Pimenta noted the massive hewn stone walls, the water-filled moats, and the ingenious way the builders had transformed the central rock into “bulwarks and turrets” that made the fort virtually impregnable.
At its zenith, Gingee’s influence extended far beyond the current fort ruins, reaching as far west as the village of Melacheri, three miles away. This was not just a military installation but a thriving urban center that dominated the surrounding countryside.

A Royal Welcome
The Nayaka’s reception of the Jesuit fathers was nothing short of spectacular. Pimenta and his companions were escorted through what appears to have been the Arcot or Vellore gate, greeted by the thunder of fort guns, the music of buglers, and a full military parade. They were housed in the square tower, an imposing structure some 80 feet high that served as one of the fort’s most recognizable landmarks.
But it was the audience with Krishnappa Nayaka himself that truly revealed the sophistication of this South Indian court. The scene Pimenta describes rivals anything from the courts of contemporary European monarchs:
The king received them lying on silken carpets, supported by cushions, dressed in flowing silk garments. A great chain hung from his neck, and his body was adorned with pearls and precious gems. Even his hair, tied in a knot and decorated with pearls, spoke to the refined aesthetic sensibilities of the court.
Ceremony and Power
The ritual aspects of the court were equally impressive. Before the Jesuits even approached the ruler, 200 Brahmans processed in formation to sprinkle the house with holy water and perform protective ceremonies—a daily ritual whenever the king first entered a building. This blend of spiritual protection and royal protocol demonstrates the sophisticated integration of religious and political authority that characterized many South Indian kingdoms.
The military display was breathtaking. A thousand armed men served as the king’s personal guard, while 300 elephants were paraded before the royal presence as if preparing for war. At the palace entrance, the Nayaka was greeted with formal orations in his praise—a standard element of the court’s ceremonial splendor.
A Window into a Lost World
Father Pimenta’s account offers us something precious: a detailed, outsider’s perspective on an Indian kingdom at the height of its power. His European background actually enhances the credibility of his observations, as he had clear benchmarks for comparison and no particular reason to exaggerate Gingee’s grandeur.
The picture that emerges is of a sophisticated, wealthy, and militarily formidable state that could hold its own against any contemporary power. The attention to ceremony, the integration of religious and political authority, the impressive military capabilities, and the sheer urban scale all point to a civilization operating at the highest levels of medieval statecraft.
Today, visitors to Gingee can still see remnants of this glory—the massive walls, the ingenious engineering, the commanding position that made it such a coveted prize for later conquerors including the Marathas, Mughals, and British. But Father Pimenta’s account reminds us that these stone remains are merely the skeleton of what was once a living, breathing center of power and culture.
Legacy of the Troy of the East
The comparison to Troy was not made lightly. Like its legendary namesake, Gingee was considered virtually impregnable, a prize worth besieging, a symbol of power that attracted both admiration and conquest. Father Pimenta’s visit captured this fortress-city at its moment of greatest glory, before the political upheavals of subsequent centuries would reduce it from a living capital to a historical monument.
His account stands as testimony to the sophisticated urban civilization that flourished in South India during the late 16th century, challenging any simplistic notions about the subcontinent’s medieval period. In Krishnappa Nayaka’s Gingee, we see not a backward kingdom awaiting European enlightenment, but a fully realized state that could impress even cosmopolitan visitors from the Portuguese empire.
The “Troy of the East” may have fallen to time and conquest, but through Father Pimenta’s wondering eyes, we can still glimpse its ancient majesty.
Krishnappa’s New City: Krishnapatnam
This new city referred to by Pimenta was Krishnapatnam which the Nayak had built near Porto Novo on the banks of the Velar river, in the Chidambaram taluk. The village of Agaram just to the west of Porto Novo, was probably the Krishnapatnam of the Nayak.
The building of this town shows the greatness and the power of the Nayak and also the extent of his kingdom. Du Jarric says that “it is located in the country called ‘Arungor’ near the mouth of the river Valarius (Vellar); and it forms the present Hindu quarter of Porto Novo.”
In order to foster the new foundation, Krishnappa allowed everybody to select his own building site and a piece of land was assigned to each in the outskirts of the city for agricultural purposes. Consequently many buildings were under construction when Pimenta visited the place in 1597-1598 A.D.
Krishnappa asked Pimenta to build a church in this new city and to erect a residence for a priest. The Nayak himself gave a gift of 200 pieces of gold for that purpose. The present was made in the presence of all the grandees and nobles of the court.
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