The haveli or mansion was initially occupied by the influential Mehta family of Jaisalmer. It was built around 1815, possibly on the remains of an earlier building of the late 17th century. The building was commissioned by the then Prime Minister of Jaisalmer, Salim Singh, a man with a reputation for Machiavellian cunning. His father Diwan Swaroop Singh, also Prime Minister of Jaisalmer in his time, was murdered as a result of a palace intrigue when the young Salim was a mere dozen years old. Salim took it upon himself to avenge his father’s death. As soon as he came of age, Salim eliminated all of Jaisalmer’s courtiers, princes and hangers-on with such dexterity that he was appointed premier by Maharawal Mool Raj.

Salim built his eight storeyed pleasure palace and lived in it with his seven wives and two concubines. It is a magnificent monument with every structure carved with elaborate detailing. He demanded the best and got it; anything that did not please him was summarily rejected. The mansion boasts of 38 balconies, each with a different design. As you enter you are confronted by an imposing stone elephant, while the upper storeys of the building jut out proudly like a ship’s prow, which is why the haveli is also called the Jahazmahal or Ship’s Palace. The monument as a whole has the appearance of a great ocean liner, with a narrow base which widens at the top. It has a beautifully arched roof, topped with blue cupolas, and brackets in the form of peacocks.

As Salim Singh’s power grew so did his ambition, and he reckoned it was time he usurped the power of the maharwals themselves. He came up with a scheme to knock off the top two floors of the haveli and build a gateway from his house right upto the maharawal’s palace, but this proposal was nipped in the bud by the monarch himself. This incident marked an about-turn in his political fortunes for soon he was killed in one of the numerous court conspiracies he himself had encouraged for long. The Salim Singh saga was a classic illustration of the old maxim that ultimately ‘the schemer always falls into the pit which he digs for another’.