The Sovereign and the Assassin: The Betrayal and Murder of Nizam Nasir Jung
The year is 1750. The setting is not a dark alley, but the vast, sprawling encampment of a Mughal prince near the impregnable Gingee Fort in Tamil Nadu. Mir Ahmad Ali Khan, known to history as Nasir Jung, was the Nizam of Hyderabad, the de-facto ruler of the Deccan. He commanded an army of approximately 300,000 men, including 1,300 elephants and 800 cannons. Yet, in a matter of moments, this sovereign would fall dead from his elephant, betrayed by the very men who shared his howdah.
This is the story of the assassination that reshaped South Indian history—and of the French celebration that literally built a town upon the spot, only to have it erased by Robert Clive.
The Throne of the Deccan
To understand the bloodshed near Gingee, we must look at the chaos of the Second Carnatic War (1749–1754). Following the death of the first Nizam, Asaf Jah I, a brutal succession war erupted. On one side stood Nasir Jung, the legitimate son. On the other stood his nephew, Muzaffar Jung, supported by the ambitious French Governor-General Joseph François Dupleix and Chanda Sahib, the claimant to the Carnatic throne.
Nasir Jung was not a weak man, but he was a poor politician. By 1750, he had crushed his rivals on the battlefield. However, instead of securing his victory, Nasir Jung made a critical error. According to contemporary accounts, he retired to Arcot to enjoy hunting and pleasures, sending a large portion of his army back to Hyderabad.
The French Storm Gingee Fort
While the Nizam relaxed, Dupleix acted with breathtaking audacity. The French governor set his sights on Gingee Fort, a massive triangular fortress perched on three citadels (Rajagiri, Krishnagiri, and Chandragiri) that had resisted attacks by both the Marathas and the Mughals. It was widely believed to be invulnerable.
On September 11, 1750, a small French force under the command of Marquis de Bussy—just 250 Europeans and 1,200 to 1,500 sepoys with four field guns—approached the Gingee fort. The defenders, numbering around 10,000 to 12,000 men, decided to attack the outnumbered French advance guard. They failed. Bussy waited until the Indian cavalry was within pistol range, ordered his men to advance, and scattered them.
What happened next became legend. The defenders fled back into Gingee fort, slamming the gates shut just in time. But Bussy was not deterred. He used a gunpowder charge to blow the doors open. By nightfall, the town had fallen. Then, waiting until the moon had gone down, Bussy launched simultaneous attacks on all three citadels, leading the assault on the highest peak in person. By daybreak, the “impregnable” fortress was in French hands.
The Conspiracy of the Three Pathans
The fall of Gingee fort terrified the Nizam. Nasir Jung finally took the field, marching south with his massive army. But Dupleix had already planted the seeds of destruction. He sent ambassadors to Nasir Jung’s camp, ostensibly to negotiate peace, but in reality to bribe the kingmakers among the dissatisfied Pathan and Deccani nobles.
The conspiracy was orchestrated by three Pathan governors who had sworn allegiance to Nasir Jang:
- Himmat Bahadur Khan, the young 27-year-old Governor of Kurnool
- Abdul Nabi Khan, Governor of Cuddapah
- Abdul Hakim Khan, Governor of Savanur
Of these, Himmat Bahadur Khan emerged as the primary architect of the plot. Despite having recently paid eleven lakhs of rupees as tribute to Nasir Jang, the governor had grown resentful of the financial burden of maintaining troops for his overlord. The French commander La Touche initially distrusted him, insisting that the Pathan governor swear an oath on the Quran before any cooperation.
As Nasir Jung’s army encamped near Gingee, Dupleix ordered a French force of 800 Europeans, 3,000 sepoys, and ten field pieces to march out from Pondicherry. A guide sent by the conspirators led the French directly toward the quarter where Nasir Jung’s own troops were encamped.
The Fatal Dawn: December 16, 1750
The date was December 16, 1750. The French force arrived within sight of the enemy’s camp at four in the morning. As they advanced, something strange happened: a large portion of Nasir Jung’s army remained “motionless as mere spectators.” They had been bought.
According to the Buhat Afza, an eyewitness account by Mir Najaf Ali Khan who was present in the camp, Nasir Jung had risen around 1 AM for Namaz-e-Tahajjud (pre-dawn prayers) when the sound of gunfire erupted from the camps of his supposed allies—Janoji and the Afghan chiefs. In the ensuing chaos, French forces broke through the front lines and attacked the center of the army. Most shocking of all, Nasir Jung’s own gunners began firing on his tents, revealing the extent of the conspiracy.
When the attack began, Nasir Jung demonstrated remarkable courage. Mounting his war elephant, he led 3,000 horsemen in a charge that successfully repelled the initial French assault. Fighting his way through enemy lines, he reached the position where his supposed allies—the three Pathan governors—stood silent on their own elephants.
The Moment of Betrayal
The moment of betrayal was captured in heartbreaking detail by eyewitnesses. It was not yet clear daylight. Thinking that the Pathan chief did not recognize him, Nasir Jung raised himself in his howdah to receive his salutation. He saluted Himmat Bahadur Khan first and urged him to advance against the rebels.
Instead of responding to the salutation, the treacherous governor raised his musket and shot Nasir Jung directly in the chest. Two shots from the nabob’s howdab pierced the Nizam’s heart, and he instantly expired. The sovereign of the Deccan, the most powerful man in southern India, was dead at 38—killed not by an enemy soldier, but by the man riding beside him.
What followed was even more barbaric. Himmat Bahadur Khan leaped into Nasir Jung’s howdah, severed his head, and raised it on a spear as dawn broke over the battlefield.
The Aftermath: Proclamation, Celebration, and Flight
The murder was the signal for total collapse. Muzaffar Jung was immediately proclaimed Subahdar (ruler), and a large portion of the army that had just belonged to his murdered predecessor joined him. La Touche quickly proclaimed Muzaffar Jang as the new Wazir of the Deccan.
The new Subahdar set out in triumph for Pondicherry. There, the French governor Dupleix and trichinopoly-1752/" class="sial-auto-link">Chanda Sahib received him in a tent outside the gates. A grand procession took place “in which none of the usual accompaniments of oriental ostentation were wanting.” The French had achieved the impossible: they now controlled the Deccan through a puppet ruler.
The Flight of Mohamed Ali
But one man had not surrendered. Mohamed Ali Khan, the son of the former Nawab Anwaruddin and the British candidate for the Carnatic throne, had been accompanying Nasir Jung’s army. Witnessing the grisly display of the Nizam’s severed head, he immediately fled for his life.
With the French army in pursuit, Mohamed Ali rode south toward the only place that could offer refuge: Trichinopoly (modern-day Tiruchirappalli). This fortress city, perched on the banks of the Kaveri River with its famous rock fort rising from the plains, became his last redoubt.
The British troops who had been supporting Nasir Jung, now leaderless and hunted, also retreated. They took refuge under the walls of Trichinopoly, joining Mohamed Ali in what would become a desperate siege. The French and Chanda Sahib soon followed, laying siege to the fortress in one of the most famous episodes of the Carnatic Wars.
The Town of Dupleix-Fathabad: Built on Blood
And here is the detail most histories miss. The French were so triumphant that they erected a new town on the very spot where Nasir Jung was murdered. They named it Dupleix-Fathabad (Fathabad meaning “town of victory” in Persian/Arabic), creating a permanent monument to the assassination. The village of Sarasangupettai—later known in French records by various names—was established near Gingee Fort as a direct result of the coup. This act of architectural hubris turned the blood-soaked ground into a lasting symbol of French ambition in India.
The famous historian Macaulay, drawing from European sources, wrote that Dupleix commemorated this victory by founding a town complete with a commemorative tower at the battle site.
Clive’s Revenge: Erasing the Monument of Villainy
But the French triumph was not to last. When Robert Clive later passed through the site in March 1752, he found Dupleix’s commemorative structures still standing. True to form, the future “Clive of India” ordered their complete destruction.
Writing of his actions, Clive stated that he “designs destroying” this “monument of villainy.” He razed both the town and the tower so thoroughly that, in Macaulay’s words, “not one vestige of them remains.” The French monument to treachery was erased from the earth.
Dupleix’s Glory and Downfall
For a brief moment, Dupleix stood at the pinnacle of power. Muzaffar Jung, grateful for his elevation, showered the French governor with honors. Dupleix was elevated to the rank of a Heft Huzaree, or commander of seven thousand horse. The French established a permanent footing at Hyderabad, the capital of the Deccan.
But the triumph was short-lived. On February 14, 1751, just two months after Nasir Jung’s murder, Muzaffar Jung was killed in an engagement with the Nawabs of Cuddapah and Kurnool—the very same Pathan chiefs who had helped him seize the throne. History, it seems, has a way of balancing the scales.
The true consequence of this assassination was geopolitical. Dupleix had shown that a few loyal European troops, a bag of gold, and well-placed treachery could unseat an empire. The British, watching from their precarious position at Trichinopoly, learned the lesson well. Within a decade, Robert Clive would apply these same methods—with far greater success.
Today, the Gingee Fort—often called the “Troy of the East”—stands silently. Its massive granite walls still bear witness to the events of 1750. The modern village of Velimedupet or Sarasangupettai near Puthanandal is believed by scholars like Monsieur Lehuraux to be the probable location of the assassination, though Clive’s destruction was so thorough that no trace of Dupleix-Fathabad remains above ground.
The wind whistling through Gingee fort gates still carries the echo of those two gunshots that changed the Deccan forever—a reminder that in 18th-century India, trust between ruler and subject could be shattered in the most brutal way possible, opening the door for foreign domination that would last for centuries.
Related Posts
- Battle of Adyar 1746: How French Humiliated strong Arcot army
- The Untold Story of the Second Carnatic War
- When Europe’s War Came to India: The First Carnatic War (1746-1748)
- Gingee Fort: The ‘Troy of the East’ That No Army Could Breach
- Arcot Nawabs: Rise, Wars, Betrayal and Fall of South India’s Last Sultans
Post Comment