Gwalior Monument War Forgotten Memorial Stands Test Of Time

Joydip Sur

Along the stretch of Strand Road and a few hundred metres north of the Prinsep Ghat stands the Gwalior Monument – forgotten and often overlooked by those who walk past. It is an octagonal cenotaph about 60 feet high, crowned with a bronze dome cast from guns captured from the Marathas. The Gwalior Monument also referred to as ‘The Pepperpot’ was erected in 1847 by Lord Ellenborough, Governor-General of India (1842-1844), in the memory of officers and men who fell during the Gwalior War in 1843; more than a century and half later we narrate its forgotten history.

Gwalior had served as a British province since the 18th century. Due to its oriental richness in palaces and riches, the British left no stone unturned to make it surrender under English dominion. Several manipulative measures were thus being taken to curb the era of Rajas. A war was inevitable in such perturbing situations.

On December 13, 1843, Lord Ellenborough, the then Governor General of India warned the Maharani of Gwalior through a letter that she should dismiss a usurping regent. The letter also warned that the size of the Gwalior Army should be reduced.

In the turbulent times of December 1843, General Sir Hugh Gough (1779-1869) crossed the Chambal River into Gwalior, the pretext for British intervention was violation of the terms of the Treaty of 1804; thus, commenced the Gwalior War. Gough’s force of two cavalry and three infantry brigades encountered about 17,000 strong Marathas warriors at Maharajpore. Gough’s men fought bravely and routed the Marathas and captured their artillery. His troops suffered nearly 800 casualties. On the same day, another British force led by Grey encountered a second Maratha regiment of 12,000 warriors at Punniar, about 20 miles away from Maharajpore. And yet again the Marathas were defeated by the mighty British and their guns were seized.

On January 13, 1844, a new treaty with Gwalior was signed. The treaty allowed for a council of six Native Regents, reduced the army to 9,000 and increased the number of British officers in the Gwalior Contingent. The state of Gwalior’s subjugation to the British was finally complete.

The Gwalior Monument is a quiet gem along the ghat walk by the river. HEA Cotton, writing in 1909, remarked that the military campaign of 1843 has been completely forgotten save the memorial.

Upstairs is a commemorative bronze sarcophagus – unoccupied and inscribed with names of British officers and native soldiers who took part in the Gwalior War. Cotton lists Epalett, Kernon, Troy, and Bumevin as being the oddball English names on the list. ‘Equally striking is the spelling of the native names: Twangerally being quite unrecognizable, although Peer Baccus is not’. Even a Ganga Din is listed.

History conveniently and happily left behind, the memorial is more than a mere cenotaph now: this is a sleek and elegant chhatri, an airy pavilion which is Mughal-inspired. In terms of appearance it could actually pass as a late Mughal footnote in Delhi. Its scalloped arches do not project the might of empire, but they are fetching nevertheless, like a gazebo. Stylistically, it is a foreigner here along the Hooghly, but a welcome foreigner, one which has been admitted to Calcutta in the aesthetic sense.

The construction is of brick, with Jaipur marble cladding. The dome and its support columns are made of bronze from the cannons captured from Gwalior by Sir Hugh Gough, and manufactured by the Calcutta firm of Jessop & Company. Colonel H. Goodwyn of the Bengal Engineers was the architect of this historic marvel. The monument is joyfully trim in its demeanor, and is in quite fine condition. Regardless of its original purpose, the monument is still beloved by Calcuttans.