Malaun Visited – 193 years later

BY JYOTI THAPA MANI [All photos by Jyoti Thapa Mani]

Malaun Fort

The Anglo-gorkha Battles of  Nalapani, Dehradun 1814 and Malaun, Himachal Pradesh,1815, earned the biggest victory a soldier can ever hope to achieve- the title, ‘Bravest of the Brave‘ and the motto ‘Better to die than live a coward” for the Gorkhas. Malaun features in every Gorkha related history book.

The hills are beautiful and serene at this time of the year. Spring is giving way to summer. The weather is pleasant and sunny. The landscape is dotted with pointed slate-roofed cottages. The “Priara’ Flame of the Forest, trees are in full bloom with brilliant red flowers. Wild white roses called “Kunja’ locally, hang in heavy clusters. Fields of ‘Kanak’ wheat, spread in undulating hues of gold are ready for harvesting. You can hear the musical tinkling bells of a mule convoy. Cannot believe that exactly at this time, 190 years ago, the hills resounded with the firings of 12-18 pound cannons and rivers of blood were flowing down the sides.

[Inset: Malaon fort with  Gorkha Generals Amar Singh and Bhakti Thapa]

The fort rises up with two jagged points reaching out to the sky. Also a bright red triangular flag flies from behind like a plume on its crown. Visions start cart wheeling in my mind. Cannon blasts, smoke, fire, fighting Gorkha soldiers in loud battle cries. I see faces and voices calling out. I see action, desperation, dying men, injured men, brave men, and scared men. I see a much pressured General Amar Singh Thapa in consultation with his faithful. Under his command, the army had subjugated 700 miles of territory between the Kali River in the east and River Sutlej in the north-west in a fairly short time, till their confrontation with the British East India Company.  The battle now was in its last lap. For the few days, they would be pounded by more 12-pounders and howitzers. Left with only 200 men, Amar Singh was under a lot of pressure to surrender. Commander Bhakti Thapa had already died here two weeks ago on the 16^th of April.  Hasti Dal had also fallen with Almora. The victorious campaign was coming to an end. Far away in Belgium, another brilliant commander Napoleon Bonaparte of France was also right now confronting the British army. He would be defeated in the Battle of Waterloo by June 18 and exiled off to the island of Saint Helena.

Flowers at Malaon

A bunker at the fort

Jyoti and Ramesh at Malaun

The Fort is built at the northern end of a 4 kms long rectangular ridge. To the southern end is the Deothal peak, where Bhakti Thapa had fought his famous battle to death. The fort still houses the temple of Devi Mata. She is no doe-eyed limpid goddess. She is simply striking. Her form is an upright solid black stone slab. Her only features are a pair of black-pupil led gold eyes that meet your gaze with sanguinity. She was the mother-figure of the Gorkha army and had traveled with them from Nepal till Malian. Devi mata was a source of solace and inspiration to the foot marching army and their families. They had walked through hostile territories and enemies, with only her and their khukris for protection. The Gorkha women and children were known to have also pitched in the battles hurling stones and wooden logs while the men laid their lives on stake. Today, Devi Mata’s vitality still seems to stand guard. Her other divine companions Vishnu, Ganesh, Bhairav, Hanuman and Shiva are also still here with her. A priest comes morning and evening to adorn her with fresh flowers, light the incense and conduct her daily rituals. Her presence draws many to the fort to seek her blessings. She keeps the fort alive despite the ruins.

3000 metres above sea level, Malaun fort speaks of having been an awesome fortress. It is about a ½ a km in length. The Northern, eastern, western side walls astride the steep sides of the ridge. The fort front is on the Southern side facing the length of the ridge and that’s where the enemy where able to take pot-shots at the Gorkha soldiers as they were smoked out. The walls are about a couple of feet thick built of stone bricks, weighing one to two kilos each. The fillings are packed with a mixture of mud and fibrous materials. There is the huge underground prison-ghar where imprisonment and executions took place. There are hidey-holes, viewing holes which look straight out at every peak and ridge, firing slits, alcoves, turrets, sentry towers and water ponds. There are also buttresses which must have held wooden stockades and shelters. The fort was obviously not entirely roofless then. Now of course, the complex is like a yawning jagged hole. There are many blocked stairs which on excavation could lead to many spaces below. The division of spaces inside indicates a kind of community life in here. [Inset: A torret at the Fort now covered by Cacti]

But now, the old walls are now giving way to a stronger life force-that of nature. Roots and bushes are taking over as parasites. The bricks are crumbling under the onslaught of centuries of storms and rain. There is this site, where until recently, two big cannons, built in Jullunder, Punjab, lay unmoved since 1815. Legend has it that the Gorkhas had hauled them up here with the help of elephants. Now the cannons have been taken to nearby Subathu, the 14 Gorkha Training Centre, for better preservation and display.

Bhakti bunker and the Deothal peak, where Bhakti Thapa died: It is about a pathless kilometer away. We gingerly walk on the goat trail along the side of the hill, hanging on to boulders and bushes for support. Ramesh (my husband) and I had done a good bout of Yoga this morning to prepare ourselves for this physical and mental endurance test. Recently some regiment who had fared badly in the war, were sent here for toughening up. After some time even the goat trail ends. Thereafter it is a scramble sometimes on all fours. But we were in the safe custody of Chauhan and Manohar Bist who bravely plodded along with us. Even Chauhan would get confused as to where to find our treasures. He studies the rocks and trees. A frantic shuffling of stones and leaves reveals an old grain-grinding bowl hewn in the rocks. Bhakti Bunker is even more difficult to find and reach. Naturally so, the old warhorse would have chosen the best hiding place. Hand hewn into one big, black hard stone-rock, the bunker is quite spacious. It is about 10 feet long, 4 feet wide and 4 feet deep. Open to the top. Maybe that allowed for a covering of some sort. The base is split probably by some cannon or natural occurrence. As I lay down in it, I could see the sky above and there was such a sense of peace and security that I had never felt even in the most comfortable of beds. Stones radiate a kind of life energy in you. And I felt at one with Bhakti. This place is crowded with lots of big boulders which must have provided a lot of protection shields and hiding places. During that time wooden stockades were also built in various places.

A few feet below, Bhakti apparently fought to his last breath. It was the 16^th of April, 1815, when 73 years old Bhakti Thapa along with 2000 men, had embarked on a desperate do or die attempt  to swing the 8-pounder firing cannon around towards the enemy. He had cleaved his way through firings and swords, hacking off heads right and left, advancing back and forth under the deluge of firing muskets. Many Gorkhas were and also of the enemy were slaughtered that day. By evening, Bhakti was fatally shot, just when he had reached right up to the nose of the cannon. The enemy had never seen such valour. His body and those of others were returned with full honour. That night at Malaun Fort, the dark sky was ablaze with the flames of funeral pyres which continued for two days.

Now the spot is totally quiet with pine trees and a black and white-spotted goat munching away at the bushes. According to Chauhan, as told by his forefathers, a disemboweled Bhakti had untied his turban, tucked his guts back in with it and went on to hack off eighteen more heads before he fell mortally wounded. For some odd reason he also believes that Bhakti’s head was said to be very big and about 10-12 kilograms heavy. Legends make you larger than life.

In front of the fort is a simple memorial to Bhakti Thapa built on a raised platform of unfettered old bricks. It is a green-painted headstone and apparently marks the spot of Bhakti’s funeral pyre. Bhakti Thapa earned the Gorkhas the title-”Better to die than live a coward”.

May 15, 1815. After the signing of the Treaty of Sugauli between Nepal and the East India Company, Nepal had to cede much of the Gorkha territories to the company. The fierce fighting had raised a mutual admiration and that led to the raising of the 1^st King George’s Own Gurkha Regiment, also called the Malaun Regiment. General Amar Singh Thapa went to Gosainkundwhere he died within a year as a totally heratbroken man. His Gorkhas joined the British-Gurkha friendship army to seek a new destiny for their future as the Gorkha Regiments which continue till date. The Gorkha community also remain on the land where they belonged.