From Hazarduari Palace To Murshidabad’s Forgotten Havelis: How Nawab Nazim Humayun Jah, His Begums And Their Heirs Built Bengal’s Last Imperial Cap...

Murshidabad

does not announce itself loudly. Unlike Delhi or Lucknow, it wears its imperial past quietly, almost shyly, along the slow curves of the Bhagirathi river. Yet for over a century, this town was the nerve centre of Bengal’s power, wealth and political intrigue. Before Calcutta rose as the colonial capital, Murshidabad was where revenue was counted, alliances were made, and architecture became a statement of survival in a rapidly changing world. At the heart of this story stands Hazarduari Palace — a monumental reminder of how the Nawabs of Bengal negotiated authority, modernity and spectacle at the edge of empire.

A palace built to impress — and intimidate

Hazarduari Palace was commissioned by Nawab Nazim Humayun Jah in the early 19th century and completed in 1837. Designed under the supervision of British engineer Colonel Duncan MacLeod, the palace deliberately broke from traditional Indo-Islamic architecture. Instead, it adopted a Neoclassical style rarely seen in Bengal at the time — tall columns, symmetry, expansive corridors and restrained ornamentation.

This architectural choice was not accidental. By the 1800s, the Nawabs of Murshidabad were no longer sovereign rulers in the true sense. Their authority had been hollowed out by the East India Company, yet their symbolic importance remained. Hazarduari was designed to project dignity, permanence and modernity — a palace that spoke the architectural language of Europe while still functioning as a ceremonial court.The name Hazarduari translates to “a thousand doors”, and while the exact number is debated, the palace contains hundreds of doorways, many of them deliberately false. These fake doors served both practical and psychological purposes — confusing intruders while reinforcing the idea that power here was layered, theatrical and not easily penetrated. Over time, the phrase “thousand-candle palace” entered popular usage, reflecting how the building would glow during evening ceremonies and official gatherings.

Inside the palace: A museum of vanished grandeur

Today, Hazarduari functions largely as a museum, and its long galleries act as time capsules of Nawabi life. The collections are vast and varied, revealing how global Murshidabad once was. Visitors encounter European oil paintings, chandeliers, ornate mirrors, Victorian furniture and elaborate carpets — objects that reflect the Nawabs’ desire to remain culturally relevant in a colonial world.One of the most compelling sections is the arms and armour gallery. Matchlock guns, swords, daggers and shields trace the transition from Mughal-era warfare to European military technologies. Nearby, glass cabinets display ivory carvings, including religious figurines and decorative panels, showcasing the skill of local artisans who catered to elite tastes.

The numismatic collection is particularly valuable. Coins from the Mughal period, the Nawabi era and the early Company years sit side by side, quietly narrating the transfer of power through currency. Clocks, timepieces and scientific instruments further reveal how European objects became symbols of prestige in Indian courts.These collections do more than display wealth; they document anxiety. Every imported object was a statement that Murshidabad still mattered — that it was not merely a provincial relic but a participant in global exchange.

Beyond Hazarduari: havelis, imambaras and courtly life

Hazarduari does not stand alone. It forms part of a larger complex known as Kila Nizamat, which includes the Nizamat Imambara — one of the largest Shia congregational halls in the subcontinent. Rebuilt in the mid-19th century after fires destroyed earlier structures, the Imambara remains a living religious space, especially during Muharram, when Murshidabad still echoes with ritual and remembrance.Scattered across the town are havelis and mansions that once housed courtiers, officials and extended family members of the Nawabi household. Some remain inhabited, others crumble quietly behind locked gates. Together, they form a fragmented urban archive — courtyards, balconies and staircases that once supported an entire courtly ecosystem.

Begums, jewellery and invisible power

The story of Murshidabad is incomplete without its begums. While public architecture focused on male authority, much of the court’s private power resided with women. Begums controlled household finances, supervised estates, arranged marriages and patronised artisans.Museum inventories hint at their presence through elaborate jewellery sets, embroidered textiles and personal accessories. Pearls, emeralds, gold ornaments and fine muslin garments were not merely decorative — they were markers of rank and lineage. These possessions often formed part of dowries and inheritance disputes, many of which lingered well into the 20th century.

Decline, independence and a palace without a throne

Murshidabad’s political decline was gradual rather than dramatic. As British administration consolidated around Calcutta, the Nawabs retained titles but lost control over revenue and governance. By the time India approached independence, the family had become aristocratic landlords rather than rulers.After 1947, princely privileges were progressively withdrawn. Properties were divided, some sold, others absorbed by the state. Hazarduari’s transformation into a museum ensured its survival, but it also marked the end of its life as a lived-in palace.

Heirs and the present-day Nawabs

The lineage of the Nawabs of Murshidabad continues, though without political power. In recent years, legal recognition affirmed Abbas Ali Meerza as a rightful heir, bringing clarity to long-standing disputes. The family today lives away from the spotlight, maintaining limited private holdings and heirlooms.Their role is symbolic — guardians of a legacy rather than wielders of authority. Yet in Murshidabad, lineage still carries social weight, and the Nawabi past remains a source of local identity.

Conservation: preserving memory, not just masonry

Hazarduari is maintained by the Archaeological Survey of India, but conservation here is an ongoing struggle. Humidity, monsoon rains and the sheer scale of the structure pose constant challenges. Preserving ivory, textiles and paper in Bengal’s climate requires careful intervention, and resources are often stretched.Restoration efforts tend to prioritise the building’s exterior grandeur, but the real task lies in preserving its stories — ensuring that Hazarduari remains more than a backdrop for photographs.