Long before the Revolt of 1857 was etched into textbooks as India’s first war of independence, a small princely state in present-day Karnataka dared to defy the East India Company. In 1824, when most Indian
rulers were still negotiating treaties and appeasement, Kittur Rani Chennamma chose open rebellion. Her resistance was not symbolic, not reactive, and certainly not accidental. It was calculated, deeply personal, and rooted in the belief that sovereignty was non-negotiable. Nearly two centuries later, the fort of Kittur still stands—scarred, silent, and stubborn—much like the queen who once ruled it.
The Making of a Warrior Queen
Born in 1778 in Kakati village of Belagavi district, Chennamma was not groomed for ceremonial royalty alone. From an early age, she was trained in horse riding, archery, swordsmanship and warfare—skills unusual for women of her time but essential in a politically volatile Deccan. She married Raja Mallasarja Desai of Kittur, a small but strategically important principality nestled between Maratha territories and British-controlled regions.
Kittur was not a wealthy kingdom, but it was independent, proud and well-defended. Its rulers owed allegiance to no colonial power, and that independence mattered deeply to Chennamma. When Raja Mallasarja died in 1816, she assumed the role of regent, ruling on behalf of their young son. Tragedy struck again when the heir died in 1824. Following prevailing customs, Chennamma adopted Shivalingappa as her son and successor—an act that would soon place her directly in the crosshairs of the British.
The Doctrine Before the Doctrine
Much is made of Lord Dalhousie’s Doctrine of Lapse in the 1840s, but Chennamma’s conflict with the Company predates it by decades. The East India Company refused to recognise Shivalingappa as the legitimate heir, arguing that Kittur should lapse to British control due to the absence of a natural-born male successor. Chennamma challenged this decision fiercely. She wrote multiple letters to the British authorities, including to the Governor of Bombay, asserting her right to adopt an heir and rule Kittur. These letters—measured in tone yet firm in intent—were ignored. For the Company, Kittur was a strategic acquisition; for Chennamma, it was her husband’s legacy and her people’s homeland.
The Revolt of 1824
When diplomacy failed, Chennamma prepared for war. In October 1824, British forces under the command of John Thackeray marched towards Kittur Fort, confident that a small kingdom led by a widowed queen would offer little resistance. They were wrong. The fort, built with thick stone walls and surrounded by moats, became the centre of one of the earliest organised armed revolts against British authority. Chennamma personally led her troops, supported by loyal commanders such as Sangolli Rayanna, who would later become a legendary figure in Karnataka’s resistance history. The fighting was brutal and unexpected. In one decisive encounter, Thackeray himself was killed, along with several British officers—an outcome that shocked colonial administrators. For a brief moment, Kittur held its ground.
Betrayal and Capture
Victory, however, was short-lived. The British regrouped, returning with a larger force and heavier artillery. Internal betrayal also played its part. Some courtiers, either bribed or intimidated, leaked information about the fort’s defences. After weeks of fighting, Kittur fell. Rani Chennamma was captured but refused to beg for mercy. She was imprisoned at Bailhongal Fort, where she spent the remaining years of her life. Even in captivity, she remained defiant, refusing to recognise British authority over her kingdom. She died in 1829, far from the fort she had defended with her life.
What Happened to the Heir and the Rebels
Shivalingappa, the adopted heir, was also imprisoned and later released, but Kittur never regained its independence. Sangolli Rayanna continued guerrilla warfare against the British for several years after Chennamma’s capture. He was eventually caught and executed in 1831, becoming a folk hero whose legacy endures in songs and ballads across Karnataka.
The Fort That Refused to Fade
Kittur Fort still stands today, weathered but imposing. Its gateways, ramparts and inner palace complex offer silent testimony to the revolt of 1824. Within the fort precincts lies a modest memorial to Rani Chennamma, visited by locals, historians and students who recognise her as one of India’s earliest freedom fighters. Unlike the grand narratives of 1857, Chennamma’s revolt was localised, led by a woman, and ultimately defeated—perhaps why it remained marginalised in mainstream history for so long. Yet its significance is undeniable. She did not rise in reaction to a sudden policy or insult; she resisted a slow, systematic erosion of sovereignty. Rani Chennamma’s story disrupts convenient timelines. It challenges the idea that Indian resistance began only when colonial control became unbearable. She fought when the Company was still consolidating power, when rebellion seemed futile and compromise easier. Her legacy is not merely that of a warrior queen, but of a ruler who understood governance, law and legitimacy—and was willing to fight when all three were threatened. In doing so, she set a precedent for resistance that would echo across the subcontinent decades later. Before 1857 had a name, Kittur had already revolted. And at its centre stood a queen who refused to surrender her crown, her land, or her dignity.