A bit of Bengal that once contained more wealth than the entire British aristocracy

When I was aged between 8 and 13 years old, a pupil at The Hall, a preparatory school in London’s Belsize Park, history was taught in an uninteresting way. The emphasis was entirely on the chronology of events rather than their significance. One of these events, which meant nothing to me for many years, was the Battle of Plassey (1754). Little did I know when hearing this name as a young schoolboy that many years later, I would visit India and see places that were important in the events leading up to (and following) the battle. These places are within Murshidabad and its environs, which we visited in early January 2025.

To reach Murshidabad, which is north of Kolkata, we travelled by train on the Dhano Dhanye Express. Despite being called an ‘Express’, the train was anything but rapid. It dawdled along while local trains swept past us. It was after dark when our train drew into a station whose name I had known since the early 1960s, but had meant nothing to me then: Plassey (in Bengali: Palashi). Although I could not see much of the place, I felt a frisson of excitement when I saw signs in the station bearing a name that had been in the back of my mind for over 60 years.  

Murshidabad was, until after the Battle of Plassey and the development of Kolkata, a major city in the Indian Subcontinent. Today, apart from the former British cantonment town of Berhampore, the rest of Murshidabad consists of historical monuments, some intact others ruined, scattered around a large, mainly rural-looking district – once covered by the great city. One of the many places we visited in Murshidabad was in the district of Azimganj, where there is a palace – Bari Kothi. It was constructed by a wealthy Jain family in the late eighteenth century,a few years after the Battle of Plassey.

Bari Kothi is now a luxurious hotel run by the Dudhoria’s, who are friends of the Jain family of my wife’s sister-in- law. They live in Kolkata, and had arranged that we could be shown around the historic building that houses the hotel.

The Dudhoria family were originally Kshatriya Hindus living near Bikaner in Rajasthan. They were direct descendants of Raja Chaban, ruler of Ajmer. In about 105 AD, they converted from Shaivite Hinduism to Jainism. Along with other Kshatriya families in the town of Osia in Rajasthan, they converted to Jainism, and all these families are known as Oswal Jains. After moving between various towns in Rajasthan, the Dudhoria’s, led by Harjimal Dudhoria and his two sons, Sabai Singh and Maujiram, moved to Azimganj in 1774. They began life as merchants in their new home, and soon became successful.

In the late eighteenth century Rai Bahadur Budh Singh Dudhoria, constructed the huge mansion, now known as ‘Bari Kothi’. Close to the river Hooghly, its garden stretches to the bank of the river. The huge edifice, which was restored a few years ago, is built around seven courtyards. Its lavish decorations have been recreated in a style that would have been familiar to the family in its heyday. The influence of neo-classicism is evident in many parts of the building. Today, it is used as a luxurious ‘heritage’ hotel, which is famed for its Jain food. When the banker, who lived at Bari Kothi, told the Nawab that he wanted to move away from Murshidabad because he lacked the company of fellow Jains, the ruler allotted land on both sides of the river to the Jain community, and told the banker to invite other Jains to make their homes there. 97 families arrived from Rajasthan.

The combined wealth of the 30 or so Sherherwali (mainly Oswal Jains) families who settled in the square mile area within Azimganj, which included Bari Kothi, was so great that it exceeded that of the entire English aristocracy. After Bengal’s capital shifted to Kolkata, so did most of the Sherherwalis.

Bari Kothi was badly damaged during the Naxalite disturbances in the 1970s. It was beautifully restored under the supervision of the architect Dr Samar Chandra. We visited the place and were shown around its maze of corridors, rooms, and courtyards. Our guide showed us parts of the building that are still undergoing careful restoration. What has already been restored and is used by hotel guests is superbly done. For those seeking a glorious ‘heritage’ experience, a few days at Bari Kothi will not be disappointing. The large dining room is decorated with tiled panels (art nouveau style) depicting rustic scenes, and in several rooms, I noticed trays laden with bottles of high-class imported and Indian liquor.

The hotel serves guests with highly acclaimed Sheherwali Jain cuisine, which is strictly vegetarian. However, for those hoping for a fried egg at breakfast time, this and all other non-veg items are most certainly unavailable. The hotel employs local people as staff, thus bringing employment opportunities into what is quite a depressed district. One of these employees told us that most of the staff are not vegetarians, and so they need to sneak out occasionally to enjoy food that contains meat or fish. Or they starve themselves all day, and in the evening eat non-veg meals at home.

The British won the Battle of Plassey by guile. This was because some leading inhabitants of Murshidabad bribed the general commanding a major part of the forces of their opponent, Nawab Siraj-ud-Daulah. He was paid not to join the fight. He and his soldiers stood aside during the battle. Some hint that part of the bribe was provided by wealthy Jains (for example the Jagat Seth family) who were unhappy with the Nawab. However, as the Dudhoria’s only arrived in Bengal in 1774, it is unlikely that they had anything to do with the defeat of Siraj-ud-Daulah at Plassey 17 years earlier.

For much more about Murshidabad, read my book “88 DAYS IN INDIA: A JOURNEY OF MEMORY AND DISCOVERY”, available here:

Defeated by the British who were helped by a traitor

THE MOTIJHEEL PARK in Murshidabad is a popular amusement park with a boating lake, a roller coaster, a restaurant, a miniature railway that carries passengers, and, surprisingly, a small museum.

Siraj-ud-Daulah

The museum is dedicated to Siraj-ud-Daulah (1733-1757), who was the last independent Nawab of Bengal before the territory was conquered by the British East India Company’s army. There is also a statue of Siraj-ud-Daulah in the park.

His forces were defeated at the Battle of Palashi (Plassey) in 1757 by armies led by Robert Clive. Siraj-ud-Daulah lost the battle not least because Clive bribed Mir Jafar, who was Siraj-ud-Daulah’s Commander-in-Chief, to defect to the British. The defeat at Palashi was an important factor in allowing the British to conquer Bengal.

The dimly lit museum at Motijheel Park contains a series of information panels that give the viewer a simplified history of Siraj-ud-Daulah and the Battle of Palashi. Apart from these, there are a few other exhibits of no great significance.

Blackening the British perceptions of India and Indians

THE FIRST TIME I  heard mention of Calcutta was when I was less than 11 years old. It was in connection with the so-called ‘Black Hole of Calcutta’. Without knowing anything about it, I got the impression that whatever happened there was extremely unpleasant. Today, the 27th of December 2024, we revisited the monument to the victims of the Black Hole incident, which now stands in the churchyard of Calcutta’s St John church. Formerly, it had stood in Dalhousie Square, where the Black Hole (a small prison cell) was located before it was demolished. Originally,  there was a memorial on the spot, but this disappeared. The viceroy Lord Curzon had a new one made, and this is the one now standing near St John’s.

Part of the Black Hole memorial

 When the British, unlike the French, refused to agree to the demands of the Nawab of Bengal,  Siraj-ud-Daulah (1733-1757), the Nawab attacked Calcutta. Despite having some forewarning of the attack, the British did little to prepare their defences. On the 20th of June 1756, Calcutta’s Fort William fell to the Nawab.

 

The British survivors were rounded up by the Nawab’s forces and locked into the small prison now known as the Black Hole. The number of people incarcerated varies according to which account you read, but suffice it to say there were far too many people crowded into the tiny cell, and many of them died of overheating and thirst. It was a tragedy. Of that, there is no doubt.

 

The news of the Black Hole disaster  led to an attack on the Nawab by the British led by Robert Clive (1725-1774). The Nawab was defeated at the Battle of Plassey in 1757.

 

The problem is that what happened in the Black Hole damaged British perceptions of Indians. As the historian John Zubrzycki wrote:

“The Black Hole would come to symbolise Indian barbarism in the minds of English policymakers and be used to strengthen the case for British rule.”

Worse than this, events such as the Black Hole and killing of British citizens during the so-called ‘Indian Mutiny’ of 1857, could be used to justify the many horrendous acts perpetrated by the Brits on Indians. Two notable examples of this are the cruel punishments meted out to the Indian soldiers who rebelled in 1757, and later the Jallianwala Bagh massacre of innocent Indian civilians in 1919.

 

That the monument to the victims of the Black Hole still stands in pristine condition so many years after India became independent is remarkable.  In 1940, several leading independence activists, including Subhas Chandra Bose, campaigned to have the monument removed from Dalhousie Square. In July of that year it was moved to its present location. Today, we saw visitors, both Indian and Westerners, viewing the memorial.