The Marble Palace

A decaying grandeur is the whole tenor of contemporary Calcutta. It is epitomized by the so-called 'Marble Palace', a private residence located at number 46 Muktaram Babu Street in the northern suburbs. Built in 1835 as the home of the wealthy Bengali trader, Mr. Raja Rajendra Mullick, it is one of the strangest surviving wonders of colonial era India. It is a large three storey neoclassical folly. It rarely features on the tourist rounds and is routinely overlooked by visitors to the city. Yet, it is an extraordinary thing, a relic of former glory, a vast nineteenth century palace almost entirely unmodernised and stuffed full – in room after room - of an eclectic, rambling collection of dusty Victoriana and objects d’art that includes, surprisingly, various masterpieces such as paintings by Rubens, Titian and Joshua Reynolds. Like the city itself, it was once magnificent. Now it is covered in dust and grime as the humidity and city air slowly takes its toll. This, though, lends it a melancholy charm that is typical of the city as a whole. The Marble Palace is Calcutta in microcosm.

The residence is still in the family of the original collector, Mr. Mullick. They live at the rear, and so portions of the building are closed off to the public. The closed off area includes a Hindoo Temple that was built prior to the palace itself and which is still used as the personal place of worship of the family. But open to the public – by free admission if you arrange it with the appropriate paperwork through a certain obscure office of the West Bengal Tourist Office – are the billiards room, the ballroom, extensive hallways and the central courtyard. The huge collection of classical statues lining the corridors is supplemented with a colourful collection of exotic parrots and other birdlife. By extension, in the grounds surrounding, are the remnants of what was once a large personal menagerie.

Photography is strictly forbidden; a rule enforced by an ever-watchful team of servants. Even photographing the entry gate from the street is forbidden. A man carrying a large stick will yell "No, sir! No photographs!" the moment he spots your camera. The picture below is the nearest you will get:

             

Beyond the front gate lies the palace set in plush lawns with statues of lions, pools, hedges, garden borders, palm trees, all roughly tended. Here is a photograph of the same as provided by the tourist authorities (since the present author was roundly rebuked for even taking his camera from his bag):

                                     

Inside the building - overlooking the water damage - , you are greeted by the most extraordinary collection of works that evidently stopped being a living concern somewhere around the 1880s. The collector was not especially discerning. He collected whatever appealed to him. Great works stand side by side much lesser ones. Features include a vast collection of Belgian glassware, several massive chandeliers, two 19th C. ballroom mirrors that are 22 ft tall and exquisite Chinese and Japanese ceramics. Naked Greek goddesses are well represented. One work deserves particular note: a statue of Queen Victoria, perhaps 12 feet tall, carved from a single solid piece of teakwood. Whose work it is, and from what date, is undisclosed. 

Many of the rooms are poorly lit - whole ballrooms lit with a few 60 watt globes - and so, along with the ramshackle profusion of it all, it is difficult to assess just what is in the collection. There was, at some point, a half-hearted attempt at numbering the pieces but, it seems, no catalogue. Your friendly Indian guide knows a thing or two about select items but mainly he is looking for his tip. 

There are very few extant photographs of the interior. Here are two that will give you at least some idea of this obscure, lavish marvel hidden in the backstreets of old Calcutta:

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black