Latest / The Hidden History of Bengal: Kingdoms, Empires, and Revolution — Fexingo History / The Ramparts of Murshidabad: Bengal's Last Fortified Capital
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Murshidabad — the capital that the Nawabs built. But have you ever thought about how that city was actually defended? I mean, the walls, the gates, the fortifications that were supposed to protect the richest province in the Mughal Empire. Luna: Honestly, I just picture the palaces and the river. What kind of defenses did they have? Lucas: Well, when Murshid Quli Khan founded the city in the early 1700s, he wasn't thinking of a fortress. He built a trading hub on the Bhagirathi River. But by the time Alivardi Khan took over in 1740, after the chaos of the Maratha Bargi raids, he realized he needed serious walls. The Bargis had swept through the countryside almost unopposed — looting, burning, taking thousands as slaves. Lucas: Alivardi spent years reinforcing the city. He built a massive earthen rampart around the core, with a ditch, and he strengthened the old Mughal fort at the riverfront. He even brought in engineers from Surat to design bastions that could mount cannon. But here's the thing — Murshidabad was never truly fortified like a European fortress. It was a sprawling city, and the Nawab's palace complex, the Hazarduari, was built more for show than defense. Luna: Wait — Hazarduari means 'a thousand doors', right? That doesn't sound very defensive. Lucas: Exactly. It was built later, by the British — but the original palace had a different name. Alivardi's residence was called the 'Mubarak Manzil', and it was surrounded by high walls and a moat, but it was more of a fortified mansion than a military stronghold. The real defensive line was the river. The Bhagirathi was wide and deep enough to prevent a direct approach from the east. And on the land side, Alivardi constructed a long rampart with bastions every few hundred yards, stretching in a rough semicircle around the city. Lucas: He also built a series of outposts: the Katra Masjid complex, which was actually a mosque and a madrasa but also had a fortified gate and a secret underground passage that led to the river. That tunnel is still there — local legends say it was used to escape during the Plassey conspiracy. Luna: A secret tunnel from the mosque? That sounds like something out of a spy novel. Lucas: It does, doesn't it? But the historians — like Ghulam Husain Salim in his riyaz us salatin — describe it as a practical escape route for the Nawab in case of a coup. Murshid Quli Khan had actually started that tunnel, and later nawabs maintained it. Now, when siraj ud daulah came to power in 1756, he inherited these defenses but also saw their weaknesses. The British at Fort William in Calcutta were building up their own fortifications, and Siraj knew conflict was inevitable. Lucas: So in 1756, after he captured Calcutta, Siraj started reinforcing Murshidabad even more. He built a new outwork called the 'Lalbagh' — a red fort — on the northern approach. He imported heavy cannon from the French at Chandernagore. He even tried to hire European engineers to redesign the main rampart. But the problem was time — and money. The Jagat Seth banking family, who financed everything, were getting nervous. They saw Siraj as erratic and dangerously anti-British. Luna: So the walls were only as strong as the bankers' willingness to pay for them. Lucas: Precisely. And when the British under Clive marched on Murshidabad in June 1757, they didn't even try to assault the city. They knew the defenses were incomplete and that Siraj's army was demoralized. The battle that decided everything — Plassey — took place about 20 miles south of Murshidabad, on the banks of the Bhagirathi. Siraj's general Mir Jafar had already conspired with the British. The fortifications never got a chance to prove themselves. Luna: So after Plassey, what happened to the walls? Did the British just leave them? Lucas: No — actually, the opposite. After the Battle of Buxar in 1764, when the British gained the diwani — the right to collect revenue — they deliberately dismantled Murshidabad's defenses. They didn't want any future Bengali ruler to have a fortified capital. The ramparts were breached in several places, the gates were removed, and the ditch was filled in. By the 1770s, Murshidabad was essentially an open city. The Great Famine of 1770 only accelerated its decline. The population shrank, and many of the old fortifications crumbled or were quarried for building materials. Lucas: There's a sad irony there. Alivardi Khan spent years and a fortune building those walls to protect against Maratha raids. But the real threat came from within — from betrayal, and from a foreign power that didn't need to break the walls because they already owned the city through a treaty. The ramparts of Murshidabad stand today only in fragments — a few stretches of brick and earth near the river, and the imposing gate of the Katra Masjid, which still has the iron rings where heavy chains once hung. Luna: It makes you think — how different might things have been if Siraj had finished the fortifications in time, or if the Jagat Seths had stayed loyal? Lucas: That's the great 'what if' of Bengal history. But you know, it's also a reminder that military architecture alone doesn't save a kingdom. It's the political will behind it. And speaking of support that keeps things standing — if you've been walking through these stories with us episode by episode, you know we put a lot of research into every conversation. We keep this show ad-free because we think that's the right way to do history. If you'd like to help us keep going, there's a page at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. No pressure, just a way for listeners who value the work to chip in. Luna: Yeah, it's what keeps the research deep and the conversations honest. And speaking of honest — let's talk about what happened to the people inside those walls after the British took over. Lucas: Right. The nawabs themselves became figureheads. Mir Jafar's successors were puppets, and Murshidabad became a ceremonial city. The last independent Nawab, siraj ud daulah, was executed after Plassey. His body was displayed in Murshidabad for a day — a grim warning. The fortifications that might have protected him were never fully used. And that's the tragedy: the ramparts that Alivardi built with such care stood silent as the kingdom changed hands. Luna: So the walls are still there, but they're just ruins now? Lucas: Some parts remain. The Katra Masjid tunnel is still accessible — though it's blocked off for safety. The old river gate near the Hazarduari Palace is still standing, with its heavy wooden doors studded with iron spikes. But most of the rampart has been built over by modern Murshidabad. If you walk along the Bhagirathi today, you might see a few mounds that locals call 'the old wall'. It's a quiet reminder of a time when this city was the last bastion of Bengali sovereignty.