Vanished Walls, Forgotten Sieges: The True Story of Tanjore Fort
On the humid plains of the Kaveri Delta, there once stood a fortress that defied empires. It was a place where the ambitions of the French, the British, the Marathas, and the Nawabs of the Carnatic collided in a maelstrom of cannon fire and political intrigue. It withstood sieges that would have broken lesser cities, housed kings who played chess with the destiny of South India, and ultimately fell not to a single grand assault, but to a slow erasure that has left it a ghost of its former self.
Today, few are aware that the bustling city of Thanjavur (formerly Tanjore) was once dominated by a fortification so vast it encompassed the entire city and its suburbs . The British photographer Linnaeus Tripe, documenting the city in 1858, noted it “surrounds the entire city in which there are (exclusive of the suburbs) 20,000 inhabitants” . Yet, if you walk the streets of modern Thanjavur, you won’t find the towering walls described in colonial dispatches. You’ll find fragments—a stretch of wall here, a crumbling bastion there—but the great citadel has been largely consumed by time, development, and neglect.
This is the story of the Fort of Tanjore—a story not just of stone and mortar, but of the wars that raged beneath its walls, the kings who gambled their thrones from within, and the “progress” that ultimately turned its ramparts into rubble.
The Rise of Tanjore Fort: Nayak Origins and Maratha Expansion
The story of the fort begins not with the Marathas, but with the Nayak kings who ruled Tanjore in the 16th century. It was under their patronage that the fort began to take shape, a defensive necessity in an era of shifting loyalties and constant warfare. According to Tripe’s accompanying notes, the “Tanjore Fort was built by the Nayakar Kings of Tanjore, but has been considerably enlarged by the kings of the Mahratta dynasty” .
The Maratha conquest in 1674 marked a turning point. Ekoji, the half-brother of the great Shivaji, established a dynasty that would rule for over a century, investing heavily in the fortifications. The fort was no mere military outpost; it was a statement of power. Within its walls lay the sprawling palace complex, the Sangeeta Mahal (Hall of Music), and the iconic seven-storey armory tower—a structure often referred to as the Vijayanagar Fort or the Arsenal Tower (Ayudh Gopuram) . This imposing edifice was used to store ammunition brought from European countries, a symbol of the increasingly globalized nature of Indian warfare .
The fort was the beating heart of the Tanjore Maratha kingdom. It wasn’t just a redoubt; it was a city within a city, containing tanks for water, granaries, markets, temples, and even a Christian church built by the missionary Schwarz . As the 18th century dawned, this kingdom—rich, cultured, and strategically placed—found itself caught between the colliding ambitions of the great European powers.
The First Siege of Tanjore (1749): French Artillery vs. Maratha Defiance
The year was 1749, and the subcontinent was in turmoil. The Nizam of Hyderabad had died, sparking a succession crisis that would be the backdrop for the Second Carnatic War. In Tanjore, Pratap Singh, a Maratha king known for his diplomatic acumen, watched as his neighbor, trichinopoly-1752/" class="sial-auto-link">Chanda Sahib, allied himself with the ambitious French Governor-General, Joseph François Dupleix, and marched against him.
Chanda Sahib and Muzaffar Jang, his ally, laid siege to the Fort of Tanjore . The French, under commanders like Duquesne, brought modern European artillery to bear on the ancient walls. The siege began in earnest on 10 February 1750 . The defenders of Tanjore, however, were not easily cowed. The French quickly realized that this was no easy conquest.
A fascinating detail of the siege lies in the strategic dilemma of the French. Chanda Sahib, eager to get his hands on the rumored treasures of the Tanjore palace, forbade the storming of the fort. He feared that if taken by assault, his troops would fall to plundering, and he would lose his prize. So, the siege dragged on .
Fifty bombs and thirty grapeshot were fired by French artillery on December 23, causing significant damage and loss of life. Yet, Pratap Singh held firm . A French attempt to capture a gateway on December 28 was met with stiff resistance . The siege became a stalemate, forcing Chanda Sahib to relent somewhat, accepting “peace” in exchange for a staggering 70 lakh rupees (roughly 7 million Indian rupees, a colossal sum at the time) and the cession of 81 villages to the French at Karaikal. The treaty was signed on December 31, 1749 .
The Failed Siege of Tanjore (1750): Chanda Sahib’s Humiliating Retreat
The French and Chanda Sahib weren’t done with Tanjore. A second attempt to subdue the fort was planned, reflecting Dupleix’s grand strategy to establish French supremacy in the Carnatic. He saw Tanjore as a crucial piece of the puzzle, a place to be exchanged for even more valuable territories.
By early 1750, a Council of War was held, and the decision was made to resume the siege on February 3 . Dupleix even struck a bargain with Chanda Sahib: if Tanjore fell, the French flag would fly over it, and it would be exchanged for 150 new villages .
On February 10, 1750, the siege recommenced, but it was plagued by problems from the start. The siege weapons were inadequate, and the defenders fought with surprising tenacity . The French had to put down a revolt among their sepoys, who were demanding back pay . As the siege dragged on, a new threat loomed. Nasir Jang, the rival claimant to the Nizam’s throne and an ally of the British, was marching south with a vast army.
“In an attempt to convert the fort of Tanjore into a place of shelter, they laid siege to it but the Tanjoreans repulsed their attacks. Finding that the time was running short, the invaders raised the siege and withdrew in a hurry to Pondicherry.”
The second siege of Tanjore was a humiliating failure. Despite the efforts of commanders like Goupil, the besiegers failed to breach the main fortifications. The defenders proved more resourceful than expected, stalling the French long enough for Nasir Jang’s approach to force a hurried retreat . It was a strategic victory for Pratap Singh, whose cool-headed diplomacy and refusal to be bullied had preserved his kingdom.
A Kingdom’s Gamble: Pratap Singh, the British, and the Shifting Alliances
The failure of the French sieges cemented a significant shift in Tanjore’s alliances. Pratap Singh had seen the price of French friendship. He had also seen the growing power of the British East India Company. It was a pragmatic choice born of survival, as documented in historical accounts .
Pratap Singh’s decision to ally with the British and their puppet, Mohammed Ali Khan Wallajah (the Nawab of the Carnatic), was fraught with peril. It placed him in opposition to Chanda Sahib and the French. His general, Manoji, played a pivotal role in the eventual downfall of Chanda Sahib, who was betrayed and executed in 1752 after surrendering to the Tanjorean forces .
This alliance was not without its own set of problems. The British saw Tanjore not as an equal, but as a vassal of the Nawab of the Carnatic, a claim that the Maratha kings vehemently rejected. The Nawab’s demand for tribute, or peshcush, was a continuous source of friction. In 1762, a treaty was signed, but the tensions were never truly resolved .
The fortress of Tanjore, and its king, were a prize in a game of thrones played by the British and the French. The Third Carnatic War (1756-1763) brought the conflict to a head once more.
The Siege of Tanjore (1758): Count de Lally’s Final Defeat
The arrival of the Count de Lally at Pondicherry in 1758 signaled a final, desperate bid by the French to achieve supremacy in India. His primary goal was to drive the British out of the Carnatic. To fund this ambition, he looked to Tanjore.
Lally demanded that Pratap Singh pay 56 lakhs of rupees, an old debt he claimed was owed to Chanda Sahib and had been transferred to the French . When the Raja demurred, Lally attacked, ransacking temples on his way for booty .
Lally’s army, including European and native troops, lay siege to the Fort of Tanjore. The French reached the gates of the fort in August 1758. Pratap Singh attempted negotiation, but Lally was in no mood for compromise. He not only demanded the money but also threatened to destroy the kingdom and enslave the royal family . The French batteries, as they had done years earlier, began to break the walls of the fort on August 2 .
“On the second of August 1758 the French batteries began to break the walls of the fort. The French decided to storm the fort at 3 o’clock, but the daring stratagem and tactics of the Marathas won them a signal victory over the French. Lally escaped by the skin of his teeth and the French forces retreated to Pondicherry.”
Lally’s defeat at Tanjore was a severe blow to French prestige. The marathas, led by Manoji, had once again demonstrated their tactical superiority over the European powers on their home turf. Lally’s retreat was a turning point, paving the way for the eventual British ascendancy in the region. The British had won the Carnatic War, and now they had a score to settle with the kingdom of Tanjore.
The British Siege of Tanjore (1773): Tuljaji’s Last Stand
The conflict that would ultimately dismantle the kingdom was not a matter of European rivalry, but of internal Indian politics—and debt. Tuljaji, the next Maratha raja of Tanjore, inherited a kingdom in arrears. He refused to pay the tribute to the Nawab of the Carnatic, a demand that the British East India Company now enforced with brutal efficiency .
In 1773, a British army commanded by General Joseph Smith marched on Tanjore. It was not a war of conquest, but a debt-collection mission with horrific consequences. The British demand was simple: submit to the Nawab and pay what was owed. But the Raja’s refusal triggered a meticulously planned military campaign. The British set about reducing the great Fort of Tanjore to submission.
The siege was a textbook exercise in 18th-century artillery warfare. A letter from the Madras Council dated August 30, 1773, confirms the intensity of the British bombardment :
“Our batteries, consisting of fourteen guns and eight mortars, began to play upon the fort of Tanjore the 27th in the morning, at the distance of between three and five hundred yards; and, in the course of that day, we learn that some of the enemy’s bastions were demolished, and the greatest part of their fire silenced.”
The devastation was immense. British artillery systematically demolished the fort’s defensive bastions, and the sheer volume of fire created chaos inside the city. The British military dispatches detail the relentless destruction with clinical detachment:
“About forty, it is said, fell within the walls of the King’s palace, and obliged him and his family to remove to a bomb-proof. Several parts of the town were set on fire, and in the evening a small magazine blown up. It is impossible to tell exactly, but I am informed upwards of 100 people were killed and wounded.”
Tuljaji had appealed for help from the Marathas, the Dutch, the French, and even the Danes. He mortgaged lands, ceded districts, and tried to forge a grand coalition to resist the British and the Nawab . But the Marathas were embroiled in their own disputes, and the Dutch, despite some initial support, were outmaneuvered by the British. The promised help never came . The British siege pushed relentlessly onward, and on September 17, 1773, the fort of Tanjore fell. Raja Tuljaji and his family were taken prisoner .
The Nawab of the Carnatic had finally achieved his ambition. The Fort of Tanjore, the citadel that had held the French at bay, was now in the hands of his troops. The British authorities, however, were not entirely satisfied. General Smith argued that the fort was too important to be left to the Nawab’s forces. He recommended a British garrison to secure it permanently .
“Smith was of the opinion that the Fort of Tanjore would not be safe unless held by British troops; but the Nawab would not agree…”
The Nawab, wary of ceding control of his newly won prize, resisted the British demand. He argued that his own troops could defend it and that the people of Tanjore were afraid of Europeans who, he claimed, killed cows—a transparent excuse the British saw as absurd . The British were forced to concede, handing the fort over to the Nawab’s men. It was a short-lived victory, though, for the British strategic goal—the utter dismantling of Tanjore’s sovereignty—had been achieved.
The Legacy of Neglect: Why the Fort is (Mostly) Gone
The fall of Tanjore in 1773 marked the end of its political independence, but it was not the end of the fort. For decades, the fortifications remained largely intact. By 1858, when Linnaeus Tripe photographed it, the “Great Fort” still surrounded the city . But the walls were no longer maintained. The British had no use for a fortress that belonged to a vanquished vassal.
Over time, the fort was slowly dismantled. Stone was repurposed for modern buildings, roads were punched through the walls, and the once-mighty bastions crumbled into ruins. The 20th and 21st centuries were no kinder. In recent years, the city of Thanjavur has seen a disturbing trend of heritage demolition.
In 2017, a drive began to demolish old structures in the city. A 150-year-old council meeting hall was razed. In the East Rampart area, a fort wall dating back to the 16th century was partially demolished by a contractor under the Smart Cities Mission before protests halted the destruction . This was not a wall built by the British or the Marathas, but a remnant of the Nayak fort that formed the original core of the fortress . Other heritage structures, including the 100-year-old Ramanathan Mandram—a storied theater where legends of Tamil stage performed—have also been demolished .
Culture enthusiasts and organizations like INTACH (Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage) have raised concerns about the city’s disappearing heritage, noting that building demolition has been either for the Smart Cities Mission or for evicting encroachments . The Union Club, a building dating to 1872 that once hosted Rabindranath Tagore, is now feared to be next on the chopping block .
What remains of the Fort of Tanjore? The palace complex still stands, a sprawling reminder of the Nayak and Maratha dynasties . The seven-storey armory tower, often called the “Vijayanagar Fort,” is a popular tourist attraction, though visitors note it is “not very valuable or properly maintained” . The walls, however—the very fabric of the fortress that once made Tanjore a citadel of legend—are largely gone. Only fragments, like the remnants of the East Rampart, serve as a silent testimony to a glorious, violent past.
The Ghost of a Fortress
The Fort of Tanjore was more than just a military structure. It was the stage upon which the drama of the 18th-century Carnatic was played out. It was a symbol of Maratha resilience, a target of French ambition, and a victim of British realpolitik. Its walls were witnesses to a breathtaking history of courage, betrayal, and the relentless expansion of the European empires.
Today, the loss of the fort is not just a physical destruction of stone and mortar; it is an erasure of historical memory. The story of how it was dismantled—first by war, then by political calculation, and finally by “development”—is a cautionary tale. The remnants of the East Rampart, the crumbling bastions, and the palace towers are all that is left of a citadel that once defied the might of empires. The Vanished Citadel is a ghost that walks the streets of Thanjavur, its story known only to those who care to look past the modern buildings and see the echo of the walls that once stood there.
Bibliography / References
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A History of British Diplomacy in Tanjore – Tamil Digital Library
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The Tanjore Mahratta Principality in Southern India – Shodhganga (INFLIBNET)
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Political History of Tanjore (17th-18th Century) – Shodhganga (INFLIBNET)
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British Relations with Tanjore (1748-1799) – Shodhganga (INFLIBNET)
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