Just Three Villages

Lt. Col Mark Wood's Map of Kolkata in 1784-85 showing the extent of the Maratha Ditch

As I continued to walk around the compound of St. John’s Church, it struck me as unfathomable how a mass of few huts in a few villages could grow to be the teeming metropolis that we inhabit today. It seemed to boggle my mind to even try to wrap my head around the efforts that people put in, consciosly or unconciously, to make the city what it became – the second city of the largest empire in the history of the world.

But where were these three villages situated? It is important to know this before we move on with our story, for the very purpose of history is to know the past to aid better understanding of the present, with the aim to consequently better the future. In the past cannot be contrasted, or even merely related, to the present, then the study of history loses its appeal and falls flat on its face.

If we consider the very early boundaries of Calcutta, they were not too extensive. In the North, it was bounded by Chitpur and to the South by Coolie Bazaar – the present day Hastings area. Sutanuti began from the Chitpur boundary in the north – historically from the Sutanuti Ghat where Job Charnock landed in 1690. The ghat has since been lost to posterity and was located somewhere between present day Beniatola and Shobhabazaar Ghats, in the Jorabagan Area – and ended in present day Babughat in the south. Thus, Sutanuti comprised much of present day Shyambazar, Shobhabazar, BK Paul Avenue, Ahitirola, Beniatola, Bagbazar, Jorabagan, Kumartuli, Pathuriaghata and Burrabazar. Gobindapur began from here and extended up to the Adi Ganga, or as it was known then, Gobindapur Creek. Thus, Gobindapur comprised the present day Chowringhee, Park Street, Maidan and Rabindrasadan Areas. The village of Kalikata was in the present day BBD Bagh and Lalbazar Area, sandwiched between the villages of Sutanuti and Gobindapur.

In 1742, the British dug the Mahratta ditch as a defensive strategy against the invading Maratha hordes (or Bargis, as they were locally known). Bengal, Bihar and Orissa was perenially invaded by Maratha forces at this time as a part of their strategy to press the demand for Chauth to Nawab Ali Vardi Khan, the Nawab and Subedar of Bengal, Bihar and Orissa. Chauth was a tax imposed by the Marathas on kingdoms and subahs which were under nominal Mughal rule and comprised 25% or 1/4^th of the revenue collected or produce in a year.

In the period from August 1741 to May 1751, the Marathas attacked Bengal six times and although they were thwarted each time by the Nawab, they never left without unleashing massive destruction and wholesale massacre on the local population, which resulted in equal loss of lives and livelihoods. Such was the extent of massacre that the episode of the Maratha invasions still persists in the psyche of the Bengali people in the form of a well-known lullaby. Due to the heavy economic losses that Bengal sustained on a regular basis due to these invasions, Nawab Ali Vardi Khan finally relented to the Maratha claim of Chauth and also ceded the territory of Orissa, following which the Marathas ceded their expeditions into Bengal.

However, when the Maratha invasions started in the year 1741, the British were quite alarmed to see the level of destruction that followed in their wake and apprehended that the Maratha forces may attack Calcutta and especially Fort William (The Old Fort) also. Hence, they proceeded to dig a semi-circular canal around the city to keep out the forces. The Mahratta Ditch was three miles long (although oroginally planned as a seven mile strech) and served as the effective boundary of the city of Calcutta until it was filled up and the city expanded later on. But for the period which we are in – that is the period before the Battle of Plassey – very few citizens, especially Europeans, ventured outside the Mahratta ditch, which became the de facto boundary of the Calcutta. The ditch started from Bagbazar and followed the path of what became the Circular Road – Modern day APC Road and AJC Bose Road (making a detour at Jorabagan to spare the Garden Houses of Gobindaram Mitra and Umichand from being harmed), hence traversing the entirety of Sutanuti and Gobindapur to end at modern day Entally. Although the ditch was dug to safeguard the British interests at Fort William and the European population, the money for the project was paid for by the natives. The historical irony is that, for all its pomp, the Mahratta Ditch was nothing but a glorified moat and was never tested against the Marathas who never came to Kolkata and the proved completely ineffective against Nawab Siraj-ud-Daullah, Ali Vardi Khan’s successor, when he attacked the city in 1756.

Historically speaking there is another village which we cannot ignore in our story of Calcutta. While we are familiar with Sutanuti, Gobindapur and Kalikata, we do tend to forget the fourth village of Chitpur from where a road ran straight to the Kali Temple in Kalighat, called  by various names by the Englishmen of that time – Pilgrim’s Path, Road to Kalighat, Road to Chitpore and Road to Pilgrimage. In its entirety, this road extended from Halishahar to Barisha and Lakshmkanta Majumdar is credited with building it. Today this road is divided into present day Rabindra Sarani, Bentick Street and Jawaharlal Nehru Road and covers the same distance. Quite possibly, this is the oldest surviving pathway in the city because it predates the formation of the city itself.

The Idol of Goddess Chitteswari at Chitteswari Temple

The history of Chitpur is no less fascinating. It is said that the name of the village has been derived from that of the village deity Goddess Chitreswari or Chitteswari (although the latter name is more famous). Although some claim that the Goddess Chitteswari is the Goddess Kali, in reality, She is the Goddess Durga and quite definitely, the only Durga idol in Bengal to have been worshipped by dacoits. According to legend, a temple to the Goddess was built by a famous dacoit of the region by the name of “Chitey” who had a morbid fascination with human sacrifice and would perform such ceremonies regularly to appease the deity. Ofcourse, there is no historical evidence to support this claim, and Chitey dakat (the Bengali word for dacoit) is more likely a fictional figure based on a real-life criminal. This does not seem surprising when we know that the entirety of the Pilgrim’s path, and especially the area around Gobindapur was overrun with dacoits with fearsome reputations and colorful names such as Biswanath, Roghunath and Baidyanath, who used to rob the pilgrims who dared to venture on the forested path. Of these three, Biswanath was perhaps the most adventurous. It was said that he used to write a letter to the person he was planning to rob, informing him of the malintention well in advance to the perpetration of the crime (quite possibly with the date and time as well), and – as if that wasn’t enough – he would ride a palanquin with pomp to victims house to rob him!

Ofcourse, there is an alternative version to how Chitpur got its name. One Manohar Ghosh had migrated to the Chitpur region from Orissa after leaving the employ of Raja Todar Mal. Once settled, he built two temples in the region – one dedicated to Devi Chitteswari and the other to Devi Jaymangala in the year 1610. After his death in 1637, the responsibilities of the temple were carried on by a priest by the name of Narasingha, who had a penchant for human sacrifices and indulged in the ritual daily in front of Devi Chitteswari. This was too much for Ramsantosh, heir to Manohar Ghosh. But seeing no way in which he could stand up to the joint forces of the preist and the dacoits of the region, Ramsantosh took off for Bardhaman with his family where he found employment under the French and the English traders, and quickly amassed a lot of wealth.

Soon, Ramsantosh’s fame spread far and wide as one of the wealthiest men in the region, and it was this fame which proved to be his downfall. One night Dacoit Rahim Singh and his band attacked his house and looted every last penny he had. There is no way to know what exactly had gone down that fateful night, but knowing the fact that Ramsantosh had arranged for the escape of his son and wife, it can be guessed that he had stalled the dacoits more than their patience allowed, hence, they had murdered him before leaving. He was 70 at the time.

Balaram Ghosh, Ramsantosh’s son, had nothing to his name when he fled Bardhaman and came to Chandannagore with his mother. There, by sheer wit and sense of will he set up his own independent business and was successful in amassing a large amount of wealth to this name and in being counted among the weathiest in the region. He also managed to strike up a friendship with Monsieur Duplessis, the French Governor of Chandannagore and became one of his closest advisors. When he died in 1756, at the ripe old age of 95 (quite unheard of in those days), he had bequeathed his wealth to his two surviving sons (Balaram Ghosh had fathered four sons, the other two being Narahari and Shibohori. Both had died before their father) – Ramhari Ghosh and Srihari Ghosh, who continued to stay and carry on business activities in Chandannagore for some time and then they migrated to Calcutta when Chandannagore came under English control in 1757 (According to some accounts, they migrated to Calcutta immediately). On arrival, the brothers built a palatial mansion on 20 bighas of land in Bagbazar, complete with a pond and garden.

Srihari Ghosh, or Hari Ghosh as he was popularly called, remains pertinent to popular Bengali imagination owing to the saying “Hari Ghosher Gowaal”. Hari Ghosh was fluent in Persian and Bengali and also knew a smattering of English – qualities which landed him the coveted job of Diwan of the English fort of Munger ( A Diwan under the East India Company was the officer responsible for collection of revenue and management of finances). He won the love and affection of all the officers and workers of the fort, be they English or Indian through his hard work, efficiency and general good behaviour. He had amassed a large quantity of wealth and despite this is said to have led a very simple life, peperred with grants and expenditure made for the public good. Upon his retirement from the service of the Company, Hari Ghosh returned to Calcutta and set up a free fooding and lodging hostel for poor students and the homeless. It was the fact that any poverty-stricken person could simply walk into his home and find a hot meal waiting for him and a roof over his head – all for free and for as long as he wanted, that led to Hari Ghosh’s house being called a Gowaal or Cowshed (For cows tend to stay anywhere they are fed and taken care of and often attract other cows to the place as well).

Any tale of Chitpur, however, is incomplete without a mention of Gobindaram Mitra. The Black Zamindar – as he was called by the English – was known for his strict disciplinarian ways and iron hand in his dealings. He was the deputy tax collector for the three villages of Sutanuti, Kalikata and Gobindapur whose zamindari the English had purchased from the Sabarna Roy Chowdhurys. Mitra was one of the earliest Indian officers in the services of the Company, and the second Indian to occupy the post of Deputy Tax Collector (the first was one Nandaram Sen). By dint of his position and the power it offered, Gobindaram earned fabulous amounts of wealth and was so influential that he could override his boss – John Zephaniah Holwell, the first English Tax Collector or Zamindar of the villages (who would later on be famous as one of the survivors in the infamous Black Hole of Calcutta)– with ease. When in 1752 Holwell accused Gobindram  Mitter of dishonesty, the celebrated “black collector ” defended himself by pointing out that every deputy of this description was allowed similar privileges, and that he could not from his wages keep up the equipage and attendance necessary for an officer of his station.

Alongwith revenue collection, Gobindaram also had to shoulder the responsibility of magistrate who was in-charge of the native inhabitants – a duty that came hand in hand with that of being the deputy collector. As a result of this position, he was also in-charge of a small police force to keep the law. Gobindram as a Magistrate seemed to be a terror in the public mind. His method of punishment, as Holwell observed, was ‘very remarkable’. Gopee Singh a convict laid to the charge of Gobindram. For after severely suffering the lath, chains, imprisonment, and confiscation he was fixed in a public high-way, and an order issued for every passenger to kick him on the head, under which situation he expired [sic].

He is credited as the first Bengali to have driven to a coach, and the festivals that he celebrated were marked, if one might say, with obscene amounts of lavishness. The Durga Puja that he held at his mansion bore testament to this – the idol was entirely covered in gold and silver leafs and around 1800 kilograms of rice was offered to the deity, with a thousand brahmins feasting and being decked with gifts.

Hindu Pagoda and House 1778 Coloured etching with aquatint of a Hindu Pagoda and House by Thomas Daniell (1749-1840)

One of the Black Zamindar’s crowning acheivements was the temple he had built for the Hindu Goddess Siddheswari, completed in 1730. The temple is said to have been taller than even the Ochterlony Monument that came up later (Present day Shaheed Minar in Esplanade) and was popularly known as the Nabaratna Temple (Ratna here refers to the towers and turrets of a temple. Hence, Nabaratna means Nine Towers or Turrets) although it was a Pancharatna Temple in reality. It was also referred to as the Black Pagoda by the English, keeping with Mitra’s sobriquet and sometimes as Mitra’s Pagoda. The temple’s main spire or ratna reached a stunning 165ft and was a navigation point for sailors until the temple was destoyed in the devastating earthquake of 1840 (Case in point: the Shaheed Minar is 157 feet tall, a good 8 feet shy of the erstwhile temple). Just beside the Black pagoda stood and still stands a smaller Nabaratna Temple. The site of the erstwhile Black Pagoda and of the existing Nabaratna Temple are on present day Rabindra Sarani just north of Banamali Sarkar Street.

But all this is a long way coming. The Sutanuti, Kalikata and Gobindapur that existed in Charnock’s time was a far off from the picture of opulence that Hari Ghosh or Gobindaram Mitra would present in the future. It was a harsh and unforgiving forestland, interspersed with some arable land and a few huts here and there settled in by those brave and enterprising Basaks and Setts. It had a small marketplace – nothing much to boast of, just your regular village haat or market. Poorly lit, dismal and appaling sanitary conditions and the existence of a salt water lake three miles to the north-east provided the perfect breeding ground for water and insect-borne diseases. In the words of a contemporary of Charnock, Alexander Hamilton, “he (Charnock) couldn’t have chosen a more unhealthful place on all the river…. Before the beginning of January, there were four hundred and sixty burials in the clerk’s book of mortality.” The present day Chowringhee and maidan area was not just any jungle but one infested with tigers and whose roars had, upon many an occasion – I am sure, made the English curse Charnock’s decision to settle down in this hellish place where shots had to be fired to frighten off the dacoits lying in wait for any wary passersby.

But settle down Charnock did. What his motives were for choosing three unimportant villages on the east bank of the Hooghly river, which were largely uninhabitable – especially for Europeans – we do not know. We can only guess that the forest cover, the large bend of the river near Sutanuti along with the Salt Lake Marshes provided a natural defense against Mughal forces as well as good site for the future trade and commerce centre he wanted to establish here. The selection might be testimony to his long experience in Bengal and exposure to the politics and corruption of the Mughals, or might have been that Sutanuti had simply taken his fancy. We can sure that Charnock had not intention of founding a city, and even if he had he kept that ambition to himself. But if we had been his contemporaries, I am sure we would have scoffed at his landing and settlement in the most inhabitable and unimportant village that no one had ever heard of. No traveller, whether European or otherwise had stopped to look at it for a brief moment and no one had mentioned it in his diary. There was nothing to make Sutanuti and its adjacent villages distinct from any other on either bank of the Hooghly, they were not even remotely important. Calcutta – or today’s Kolkata – was just that - Just Three Villages

Note: With reference to the name of Chitpur, some traditions combine both the tales of Chitey Dacoit and Manohar Ghosh. They say that while Chitey Dacoit had indeed first built a temple to the deity, the same had fallen into ruins after his death. In 1610, Manohar Ghosh found the idol and made a new temple to the deity, which stands to this day. I am not inclined to believe in the Chitey Dacoit story, no matter how famous or more entertaining it may be. But then again, that's history for you! It's more hearsay than actual facts and that's what makes it tantalising.

References:

1. Pearson, M.N. “PORTUGUESE INDIA AND THE MUGHALS.” Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, vol. 59, 1998, pp. 407–426., www.jstor.org/stable/44147009. Accessed 8 Apr. 2021.

2. A City in the Making, Ranabir Ray Choudhury

3. Kirtibash Kolkata, Tarapada Santra, Ananda Publishers

4. European Calcutta: Recollections from a Bygone Era, Dr Dhrubajyoti Banerjea, UBSPD

5. Kolikatar Rajpoth, Somaje or Sonskritite: Ajit Kumar Basu, Ananda Publishers

6. Purono Kolkatar Kothachitro, Purnendu Pattrea, Dey's Publishing,

7. A Short History of Calcutta, A.K. Ray, http://hdl.handle.net/10689/28046

8. Calcutta Old and New, H.E.A Cotton,  ark:/13960/t8bg91182