Less than fifty miles from the port city of Chittagong- in what is now Bangladesh, a winding unmetalled road once meandered through a thick savanna of bamboo towards the formidable Banderban forest in the Chittagong Hill Tracts- home, to the Chakma tribe and the Asian Elephant.

Mounted high on a hill sits the tiny bird’s nest like picturesque district capital of Rangamati- with its tree lined pathways, quaint bashas surrounded by a riot of colours from the abundance of wild flowers and the khaki green of its undulating meadows.

In 1956, there were only three VIP’s here. A Raja Tridev Roy, Chieftain of the Chakma tribe, the Deputy Commissioner and the Superintendent of Police of the Hill Tracts.

A fourth VIP was added to the list when a magnificent animal by the name of “Lal Bahadur” was added as the ceremonial mascot to the Police force. Lal Bahadur was a 25-year-old bull elephant.

If elephants could tell tales Lal Bahadur would have been one of the great storytellers.

Some years earlier Lal Bahadur had gone AWOL from his previous masters the Burma Police Force- during the mating season. Apparently, Lal Bahadur had taken a fancy to a young she-elephant from the then Pakistani- now Bangladesh side of the border while a herd had been lazily feasting on some bamboo shoots on the Burmese side. Like all smitten lovers Lal Bahadur followed her scent across the border into the Banderbans, the natural habitat of the elephants in the region. The occasional Border patrols that spotted him- given his size and single-minded determination- gave him a wide berth.

The matter would have probably ended there had Lal Bahadur returned to his side of the border once his ardor had been satiated. But Lal Bahadur decided to stay. Every now and then he would be spotted leading a large herd of elephants in and out of the jungle and on more than one occasion- playing havoc with the food stocks of the local tribes.

Eventually his forays were brought to the attention of the Deputy Commissioner- a Col. Niblett and the Superintendent of Police a Mr. R. A. Khan.

Until then Lal Bahadur’s identity and antecedents were unknown to the authorities. To Col Niblett he was just another rogue elephant and a nuisance and ought to be put down. The decision to eliminate him was promptly conveyed to Mr. R.A. Khan the Superintendent of Police.

Mr. Khan a gentle and erudite man-who walked like Humphrey Bogart and talked like Chief Inspector Morse (British TV Series of the same name) received the orders with some trepidation. His twenty-five years of gallant service in the Burma Police before and through the war had exposed him to many such clinical administrative orders in the past.

His mind went back to another time, to another place in Upper Burma some twenty years earlier when as a fresh inductee in the Police Force he had come face to face with a young elephant that had severely injured his right hind leg in a wild stampede of a dozen other elephants who had been corralled for the night at a logging camp. The stampede had been triggered the night before when the logging camp had come under attack from Karen rebels.

The ensuing firefight with guns blazing from all sides had panicked the animals that were ankle chained to either the trees or to the giant logs piled in the yard. One such male elephant when trying to free himself from his chains pulled on the cuffs and the chain with such force that he brought the logs on top of his hind leg. The steel cuff and chain, piecing both bone and flesh.

“It was a terrible sight. To see this magnificent beast lying there in agony with one massive leg trembling with pain was not easy.” Young Khan was to recall.

“So with the help of an aging mahout, an iron monger and an alcoholic Vet-we cut away the steel chain and cuff, washed his wound as best as could be done with vodka, some tincture iodine and a mixture of herbs. We improvised on the bandage by using a vodka soaked piece of tarpaulin from one of the tents to dress the wound. I fed him a couple of bars of “Mars Chocolate” to keep him occupied during the treatment. His newly developed taste for the chocolate evidenced a dramatic increase in my friendship with him to say nothing of my Police Canteen bill.”

The Vet, an Irishman who had worked all night finally went and sat down exhausted on a nearby log lit a Lucky Strike and then pouring some whisky from a hip flask in to his coffee said to me: ‘If he survives the next three days without the infection spreading …he stands a chance.”

“Miraculously the animal recovered from his wound in a few days. I observed him while he playfully filled his trunk with water from the nearby trough and sprayed me with it. My immediate reaction to this mischief was to reprimand him in Punjabi: “Baaz a oye!” (Behave yourself!) A reaction he seemed to enjoy and would stretch out with his trunk towards me until I rewarded him with some more Mars Bars.”

In the absence of a surrogate parent and keeper, young Khan faced the dilemma of finding a home for his now broken in lord of the jungle. In a last ditch effort he approached his immediate senior a Mr. Cree for his help. It seems that Mr. Cree- though not completely convinced what he could possibly do with an elephant in the police force- asked for the elephant to be brought to the police parade ground for inspection.

The animal was duly brushed and cleaned and brought to the parade ground where he patiently waited with his mahout flicking the flies with his enormous ears until the inspection of the of the recruits was over. Then on a signal from Mr. Khan the mahout maneuvered the massive beast right in front of Mr. Cree and other senior officials of the Police- with one leg pulled back he knelt in front of them and then raising himself on all fours curled up his trunk and delivered the coup de grace by raising himself on his hind legs with a triumphant honk to the delight and applause of all the officers and their wives present.

The Burma Police suddenly had a mascot.
Until then he was just another elephant with no name. But on that day for want of a better name and to comply with regulatory ration card requirements he was quickly given the name “ Lal Bahadur” by his doting guardian Mr. R A Khan. Undoubtedly, bearing in mind the red and white scar on his hind leg that set him apart from any other pachyderm.

Sitting there in Rangamati in his neat bungalow sipping his morning tea some 16 years later Superintendent Khan in a moment of nostalgia glanced at the array of framed fading photographs that sat on the credenza- of his peers he had served with and the places he had served in: Rangoon, Moulmein, Mandalay and the Kohima Imphal Front. Prominent among them was an enormous black and white photo of Lal Bahadur- the elephant. The Superintendent had last seen him on Christmas day 1941. His mind taking him back to that fateful Christmas in 1941 to Rangoon, till then a bustling shining city of golden pagodas and wide boulevards before Japanese fighter planes flying sortie after sortie rained bombs on this vibrant centre of trade and mercantile activity and within minutes turned this once proud city to rubble.

He remembered his last instructions to the Mahout. “Take him away from here…far far away.” He never found out whether the mahout or his charge ever made it to safety.

The attack was to force the then Burmese Government and what was left of its key administrative structure to flee and to relocate to Simla in India. An arrangement that was to remain in place courtesy of the Indian Government until the war ended.

The sound of his police patrol driving up to his front porch snapped the Superintendent out of his reverie. Putting out his cigarette he got up and as per habit strapped on the holster with his .38 caliber Smith & Wesson pearl handled revolver and made for his jeep and the posse that was to accompany him into the Bandarbans-towards the area of the elephant’s last sighting near the Burmese border.

After a night and a half day trek through the jungle the local tracker held up his hand bringing the Police patrol to an abrupt halt. Running out of the jungle in their direction a few panic stricken men sprinted past them. “Mohingas” whispered the Chakma tracker. Mohingas are from the Burmese side of the border-inhabitants of the Arakan Yoma. The Superintendent was too preoccupied to worry about a few poor illegal aliens who had found themselves running from the elephants straight into the arms of a Police force.

Then an out of breath straggler appeared and fell into the arms of one of the police patrol. He breathlessly uttered only one word: “Hathi”(Elephants) before catching his breath and scampering after his comrades. Now fully alerted to the danger, the police patrol spread out guns at the ready.

The one thought that was running through Suprintendent Khan’s mind was how does one stop a marauding elephant with a Royal Enfield 303 rifle- leave alone a herd of them?

Suddenly the silence was shattered by the screaming of monkeys and birds taking to flight followed by a loud thrashing sound as a herd of about ten or twelve elephants came crashing through the thick foliage and on seeing the patrol suddenly stopped in their tracks- their massive bodies swaying, back and forth, unable to make up their minds- to charge or not to charge. The only thing that separated them from the Police patrol was a small watering hole.

“Hold your fire! Aykahneh darao!” (Don’t move) ordered the Superintendent in Bengali.

A chorus of honks and grunts from the herd brought forth a loud trumpeting sound from across the pond directly in front of the police patrol and then through the trees he appeared. A huge tusker- head and shoulders above the rest and he charged at the patrol immediately. Wading through the shallow pond towards the patrol at a furious pace- sending most of the patrol scurrying in the opposite direction. Half way into his charge the tusker stopped turned and headed towards his herd circling and nudging them back in to the trees they had emerged from. The herd obeyed and retreated into the jungle.

The tusker appeared again alone this time and by the look of him he was spoiling for a fight. This time he did something curious. He waded into the knee deep water pond again crossing it only to stop with his fore legs on the bank and his hind legs still in the water. Malevolently staring at the police patrol- now reduced to only three people, Superintendent Khan, his faithful driver Abdul Muqeem and a recently promoted Inspector from Cox’s Bazaar by the name of Nabaligh Mian.

The three stood there observing the beast as he dipped his trunk into the pond, filling it with water and again charging towards the group… abruptly stopping about 15 feet away from them and sprayed them with water from his trunk- reminiscent of the antics of another elephant in another time.

The dash through the pond had also washed away all the mud from the lower part of his legs- exposing a red and white scar on the hind leg. Racing through the Superintendent’s mind the question: “Could it be- can it be…?”

Instinctively, the Superintendent was to utter the reprimand; “Baaz a Oy!” The beast froze in his tracks. Still looking dangerous. Then as hundreds of times before he heard the familiar command: “Hoshiar Lal Bahadur- Salaam Karo!” Seconds ticked by before he reacted. Taking a few tentative steps forward first… then bending one leg he knelt and curled up his trunk in salute with a familiar honk.

No member of the Police patrol including Superintendent Khan himself from that day on would ever doubt anyone’s belief about elephants having long memories. They were all believers now.

It was a triumphant Police patrol that returned to Rangamati that night with Lal Bahadur faithfully following much to the merriment of the local populace. The next morning “Lal Bahadur” was if not inducted he certainly was adopted by the Police as the ceremonial mascot.

He soon settled into a life of pampered ease, making the ritualistic weekly appearance on the parade ground and being the star attraction for VIPs and their children as a VIP himself. Appropriately dubbed “A Very Important Pachyderm” by a group of very bright ten year old kids from Utah- on a day visit from the Karnaphuli Dam American School.

In the absence of Mars Bars-Supt. Khan asked his cook to prepare a concoction of boiled rice generously laced with molasses, honey and peanuts as a substitute. Lal Bahadur would devour this new “dessert” by the kilo.

The next sign of trouble came when in a moment of unbridled hubris typical of bureaucrats Col. Niblet decided to invite some of his British friends on an elephant hunt astride Lal Bahadur.

Superintendent RA Khan gently but firmly informed the Dy.Commisioner that Lal Bahadur had been a tracker and a logging elephant and had never trained as a Hunting Elephant which are a breed apart. More importantly given Lal Bahadur’s chequered history- there was no knowing how he would react to the sound of an Elephant Gun being fired from atop his head from a howdah strapped to his back. The risk was not worth taking. “In the interest of safety, the Deputy Commissioner’s requisition of the Police Elephant for taking part in a hunt is declined.”

Stung Col. Niblett reacted with scorn at the reasons put forward. That evening after a few drinks he ordered his staff to inform the Superintendent that he wished to see “Lal Bahadur” at his residence. The orders were duly complied with and the mahout presented himself and Lal Bahadur at the “DC Sahib’s bungalow” .

After a wait of about two hours long after the sun had set Col. Niblett appeared carrying a loaded gun and said; “Now let us see if this blasted animal is afraid of gun fire.” Inebriated and emboldened he marched up to the docile Lal Bahadur put the gun near his ear and fired of two shots. The reaction from Lal Bahadur was predictably instant. Shrieking he threw his mahout off and then crashing through the gate house sending the sentries on guard and Niblett running for their lives- he stormed off into the night and disappeared.

He was found by a search party and his mahout a week later and gently coaxed back to the police lines.

Superintendent RA Khan put in his retirement papers after the incident and left Rangamati and his beloved Chittagong Hill Tracts for good.

A year or so later after the incident, the Government of Pakistan received a request from the Iranian Ambassador that the Shah of Iran’s younger brother, wished to go on an Elephant Hunt in the Chittagong Hill Tracts. The request was duly conveyed through the Foreign Office to the then Governor of the Province.- who in turn forwarded it to the Deputy Commisioner of the Chittagong Hill Tracts. Who was none other then one Col. Niblett.

Unable to refuse the request and unwilling to inform the Governor’s office in Dhaka or the Foreign Office of the danger he proceeded with arrangements to welcome the Prince and his party. A rare distinction for a superannuated civil servant.

The Prince and his entourage arrived with Niblett playing host and Master of the Hunt. To the delight of the royal party- Niblett had outdone himself with the arrangements. The pomp and circumstance which greeted the royal visitors being reminiscent of the days of the Raj. The hunting party consisted of a convoy of jeeps bristling with a contingent of the Police Force- Cooks , Gun Bearers, a Bar man- valets, drum beaters and most importantly four elephants. None being of the hunting variety. For some inexplicable reason the Elephant Gun- which had been especially arranged for the occasion was mounted on the howdah harnessed on the back of the tallest and the most regal of all the elephants: Lal Bahadur.

Once in the hunting area-The Prince with his gun bearer mounted Lal Bahadur. To his surprise he found Niblett on a different animal. The Prince wouldn’t have it. He insisted that Niblett accompany him on his mount. Trapped, Niblett had no choice but to acquiesce to the royal command. The hunting party slowly lumbered towards the area which had been earmarked by local guides where herds of elephants were grazing.

It wasn’t long before a herd was spotted and the party moved in for the kill. A full grown tusker stood in their way guarding his herd. The prince’s gun was readied- he took aim and fired. And then pandemonium. Lal Bahadur reacting to the loud report of the gun and seeing a fellow elephant crumble and fall threw his mahout off first then shaking the howdah strapped to his back violently enough to send the prince and his party flying through the air on to the ground- he turned to search for his tormentor. He found him cringing on the ground next to the prince who had broken his arm and shoulder. He lifted a screaming Niblett in his trunk and in one swift movement smashed him to the ground and then stepped on him. Kicking his corpse around like a football he finally left the scene shrieking into the jungle.

The incident caused a diplomatic furor and Government of the day could not find words to express their regret over the incident.

The Shah’s brother lived to tell the tale and understandably never sought to hunt elephants again- preferring the more salubrious and safer surroundings of the French Riviera to go hunting. Superintendent R A Khan died in a London Hospital in 1984 at the age of 72.Taking with him a treasure trove of untold similar stories.
Rangamati- has since been transformed by the Bangladesh government into a beautiful resort and is today a major tourist attraction.

Learning of the incident the Burmese Government filed a claim for the return of their “Police Asset”.

To the best of my knowledge they were pointed in the direction of the Bandarban Forest- with a cryptic note: “ If you can catch him you can keep him.”

Author’s note: Every effort has been made to check the veracity of the incidents and the history of the contents in this article. However, some license may have been taken to dramatize the events. The story nevertheless-remains true.

Mahmud Sipra is an author and an independent columnist. Faisal Sipra is a regular contributor to various publications in the USA.

The article was first published in Star Weekend Magazine on April 4, 2008.

The post A Prince, the Civil Servant and a Bull Elephant appeared first on Bangladesh on Record.

1. Canals grabbed for fish farming

Jubo League leader blocks canals for his business

Source: The Daily Star, October 4, 2o22

A local influential ruling party leader has grabbed two canals in Morrelganj upazila and has been fish farming there obstructing the natural water flow. Moreover, people on both sides of the two canals are not being allowed to catch fish or use the water.

Arif Mallik, general secretary of Daibaggahati union unit Jubo League, has grabbed parts of Badiarjan and Petnikhali canals, depriving farmers of irrigation water too.

Locals said they have submitted written complaints to the District Commissioner’s (DC) Office on several occasions to free the two canals from illegal occupation, but the canals have not been recovered.

Petnikhali and Badiarjan canals flow through Ghazirghat, Mitradanga, Hamchapur and Chapari areas and unite with Herma, one of the largest canals in Morrelganj.

Arif has set up current nets and fences on about one and a half kilometres of the two canals, stretching from Gazirghat to Uttarghazi Government Primary School. He is using parts as fish enclosures.

Due to disruption of the water flow, paddy cultivation on hundreds of bighas of land has been affected. The fencing has been causing flooding too.

Bagerhat DC Office sources said Mohammad Azhar Ali Sheikh, a retired primary schoolteacher, had submitted letters on April 24, June 15 and July 6 this year to free the two canals from illegal occupations.

But noting has been done so far.

Bagerhat DC Mohammad Azizur Rahman said after investigation necessary steps will be taken soon.

Farmer Nizam Sheikh of Mitradanga area said Mozahar Mallik and his son Arif had been farming fish, occupying Petnikhali and Badiarjan canals, for long and no one dares to protest it.

A number of locals, seeking anonymity, said earlier many villagers used to catch fish in the two canals for livelihood, but they cannot go to the canals now.

They demanded that the canals be freed for the villagers.

Complainant Azahar Ali said he has appealed to the district administration thrice to free the two canals.

Contacted, Arif Mallik said he was not the only person who was fish farming in government canals. Many others were also involved.

The post Bangladesh River Archive : October 2022 appeared first on Bangladesh on Record.

London Evening Standard reported on October 20, 1909:

“CYCLONE IN BENGAL

EUROPEAN LIVES FEARED LOST

Cyclone yesterday wrecked Goalando and other Eastern Bengal stations. Many river steamers and an enormous number of native craft were sunk. It is feared that a number Europeans have lost their lives. It is impossible to give details, as all telegraphic communication is destroyed. On the Calcutta side only the edge of the cyclone was experienced, but its fury may be judged by the fact that it derailed two heavy goods trains, a guard named Kitchen being killed.—Reuter.

A Lloyd’s message states that a telegram has been received from Calcutta, from which it is understood that the following vessels of the River Steam Navigation Company are reported sunk:— Ardoch (stern-wheeler), Ganges despatch; Miri (mail steamer), Spray (steam launch), Buchland (receiving flat), Barge 33, Wales (flat) (residential and office), Tyrone (workshop), Mary Stuart (workshop). The following vessels of the same line are reported damaged;—Beluchi (mail steamer), Ardmarnock (stern-mheeler), Armori (flat).

The following vessels of the India General Steam Navigation Company are also reported sunk:—Diana and Rohini (stern-wheelers), Raven (launch), Cyclops (stores boat), Chumbal (receiving flat). The Mirzapore (flat), of the same line, is reported damaged.

Goolando, where the full force of the cyclone has been felt, is important trade centre at the confluence of the Ganges and Brahmaputra rivers. The steamers of the India General Steam Navigation and the River Steam Navigation Companies, large concerns under English management, touch here; and river traffic is carried on with Assam and Bengal, both steamers and native sailing craft. The catastrophe, it feared, will seriously affect the jute trade; but information has been received that Narayanganj, the centre of the jute district, has escaped, the damage done may prove to confined to a limited area. As the jute crop this year has been abundant, and prices are favourable to tho exporter, an interruption of the traffic or heavy loss on cargoes would be a severe blow to an important industry. Goalando is always liable to inundation in the rainy season. In 1875 tho river swept away a protective work of solid masonry, and demolished the railway station and Government offices.”

Illustrated London News in its December 4, 1909 issue wrote:

“The  cyclone which visited Calcutta recently did immense damage in Goalundo, a subdivision of the Faridpur district of Eastern Bengal. Goalundo Station, 150 miles from Calcutta, is on the Paddah River, formed by the junction of the Ganges and Brahmaputra, near the point where they converge. It is the terminus of the Eastern Bengal State Railway, and of several important steam-ship routes, and is the centre of a large transhipment trade. In 1871, the year in which the extension was finished, the terminus was situated exactly at the junction of the Ganges and Brahmaputra, and an enormous sum was spent in protecting the site from erosion. But in 1875 the spur was washed away, and since that date no permanent structures have been erected : the terminus. called “Goalundo Ghat,” has shifted, and the present site is seven miles south of the former one. At the time of the cyclone, the railway offices and the officers’ quarters of the steamer agencies were situated on floating residential vessels, known as “river flats.” In the cyclone these all foundered, and of most of them nothing was afterwards to be seen. A number of steamers were also totally wrecked. The loss of human life and of cattle was very great, and immense damage was done to railway plant and co”untry boats, and to crops, trees, and villages throughout the district swept by the cyclone.”

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Tilman Henckell [Judge and Magistrate of Jessore] at an early period of his magistracy, turned his attention to the Sundarbans, and he was the founder of the system of reclamation which is now converting these great forests into immense rice tracts.  The route from the eastern districts to Calcutta passed at that time by nearly the same river-courses which it follows now — by Kochua, Khulna, Chandkhali, and by the river leading past Kaliganj. But this route was then south of the cultivated tracts, and for the most part lay through forest, no habitations being on either side. Cultivation had in some places been carried farther south—for example, in the pergunnahs of Hogla and Chirulia; but the above description for the most part held good.

Apparently about 1782 or 1783 Mr. Henckell established, for boats passing through this inhospitable tract, three ganjes, that is to say, places where travellers might meet with traders and provisions might be obtainable. One of these was at Kochua, on the eastern side of Jessore; one was at Chandkhali, now on the western side of the district, but then in the centre of the passage through it; and the third was at Henckellganj, then the western side of the district. This latter place is close to Bangalpara, a little west of Kaliganj, in the 24-Pergunnahs, and it was named after Mr. Henckell. When Mr. Henckell’s agent was clearing the place (for it was jungle when first occupied), he was very much disturbed by tigers, who would make attacks upon his people, so he affixed to the place the name of Henckell, expecting that the tigers, dreading that name, would no more molest him ; and the name adhered to the place ever after, until at last the survey authorities went round and, picking up the name only from native pronunciation, wrote it down “Hingulgunge” in their maps, and blotted out the history it contained.

In all the three places, in fact, clearings of jungle had to be made before the ganj could be established, for they were all in the Sundarban forest; at each of them also some tracts of land were brought under cultivation. From some correspondence in the beginning of 1794, it would appear that Henckell paid in a great measure out of his private purse for these reclamations. Possibly he had his outlay afterwards reimbursed to him.

On 4th April 1784 Mr. Henckell submitted to the Board his scheme for the reclamation of the Sundarbans.
He proposed granting plots of land, on favorable terms, to people undertaking to reclaim them. The terms where these : the grantee or “taluqdar” was to retain 200 biggas of land for himself; upon the rest he would be chargeable with Government revenue, according to the amount he brought under cultivation. The revenue was to be for the first three years nothing ; fourth year, 2 annas; fifth, 4 annas ; sixth, 6 annas ; seventh and succeeding years, 8 annas. It does not appear that the grantee was bound to bring under cultivation any specified amount within a fixed time.

Henckell urged the scheme both because it would bring in a revenue from lands which then were totally unproductive, and because the cultivation would, by its peculiar nature, form a grand reservoir for rice against seasons of drought or famine, as the crops grown in the Sundarbans were little dependent upon rainfall.

Another part of the scheme, which we have alluded to before, was the establishment of a sort of convict colony in some part of the Sundarbans, but that part of it was never carried out.  The Sundarban plan, as it was then called, was approved by the Board and was speedily brought into operation, Henckell being made ” superintendent for cultivating the Sundarbans” (it must be remembered he was not then collector).

In 1787 Henckell already looked on the scheme as a ” great success,” and reported that many zemindars had come forward and taken grants, and that 21,000 biggas were already under cultivation. He had largely interested himself in the plan, and had even personally advanced money to taluqdars to carry it out.

Henckell had foreseen the probability of disputes arising with Zamindars who possessed the lands adjoining  these grants, and accordingly, in August 1786, he caused the whole of the boundary between the zemindars’ lands and the Sundarbans to be marked off with bamboo stakes. This boundary was, of course, far from easy to determine. The zemindars held their lands not by specific boundaries, but by pergunnahs, and as they extended their cultivation southward (as no doubt they did in some measure), they of course attached the newly cultivated land to the adjacent pergunnah. But as the pergunnahs were divisions which bore reference to the land revenue system, they did not extend southward of the cultivation, and land which was yet unreclaimed belonged to no pergunnah at all and therefore was within no zemindar’s settlements.

Mr. Henckell was not wrong in his anticipations regarding disputes, and in 1788 he writes almost despairingly to the Board. The zemindars were making claims to the lands which had been granted to the taluqdars. The zemindars would not assert any specific boundaries to their estates, but whenever any land was brought under cultivation, they would make the demand that it was within their limits. They were taking up and bringing under ryottee cultivation small patches of land here and there in the interior in order to show, by bringing the land upon their rent-roll, that it was theirs. And not only were they making claims, but they were enforcing them ; the Selimabad zemindars especially were interfering with the cultivation and forcibly opposing the taluqdars.

Mr. Henckell for two years repeatedly urged the Board to interfere to protect the taluqdars, and wished an order to be issued upon the zemindars that within three months they should declare their boundaries, so that he might have them finally determined. The present unsettled state of affairs was ruining the whole scheme. The taluqdars in possession had for some time continued to pay their revenue, in the hope of having matters settled, but were latterly falling in arrear; and though Mr. Henckell held applications for 200,000 biggas from new proposing taluqdars, he delayed making the grants until he could be quite certain whether the lands were his to grant.

In a letter of 26th March 1790 a statement is made of the progress of the scheme. The grants which had been made were—

The grants were being made latterly in smaller numbers for the reason given above; but Henckell said that were matters only settled, he would likely grant 100,000 biggas in 1197 (1790). Revenue became payable first in 1195 (1788), the demand for that year being Rs. 2,625 ; by 1200 (1793) there would be a demand of Rs. 20,540 on grants already made, besides the revenue of the 100,000 biggas he would be able to give in 1197 (1790), which would be Rs. 12,500 in 1200 (1793), and Rs. 50,000 in 1203 (1796). The names of the grants are given in the same letter ; they almost all have names derived from those of the grantees—” Kalidaspur,” ” Muhammadabad,” ” Bhairabnaggar,” and so forth. The first two of these were apparently the most prosperous, but in some others much land had been brought  under cultivation. In most of the instances, however, the disputes originated by the zemindars were keeping matters in a backward state.

The Board, however, were not persuaded by these facts and figures, and were not nearly so keen about the scheme as Mr. Henckell. They had already withdrawn, on the score of expense, the establishments which had been placed at the three ganjes (Kochua, Chandkhali, and Henckellganj,) to promote and manage the scheme and to manage the small Government estates formed by the clearings at these three places (These establishments had police duties also, being intended to act, as occasion required, against robbers). The present expenditure and the prospects of litigation apparently were not to their minds justified by the chances of future revenue, and in 1790 they practically abandoned the scheme to take its chances.

Next year the collector writes the scheme had begun to fail from the above causes, and some zemindars had succeeded in showing that the taluqdars’ lands were within their settlements and in having them dispossessed. So a new settlement was made of all such grants as were affected by these considerations, namely, the old terms were applied to that part of the lands which remained after the exclusion of what belonged to the zemindars, and a certain amount of revenue continued still to be realized from them. But no more grants were made, and we find the Board even in 1796 refusing to entertain an application on the ground that the extent of the zemindars’ claims was not yet decided. The question, in fact, was whether the permanent settlement proclamation had not vested in the zemindars the proprietary right over the whole Sundarbans.

The old grants, too, began to decline. Kalidaspur and Muhammadabad, once the most prosperous, fell so far into jungle that they were unable to bear their assessment. They were relinquished by the grantees in 1798 and became Government estates. When Kalidaspur was thus bought in by Government, there was hardly an inhabitant on it. Chandkhali, too, which was a Government clearing, began to relapse about 1796 ; but apparently it was redeemed, for we find it in 1808 in the hands of a farmer.

However, after a season of adversity matters began to look brighter, and in 1802 the improvement was so great, that the collector proposed to send ameens to measure how much land had been brought under cultivation, in order that the assessment might be increased. Nothing was done then, and the collector again in 1808 urged upon the Board an inquiry of this nature. He said that the amount cultivated by people who have no grants, or cultivated by grantees in excess of their assessment, might be 40,000 biggas. About 1814 a measurement was made by native ameens, but it was pronounced unreliable, the grantees having bribed the ameens to understate the cultivation. And finally, in 1816, a measurement was being carried out by a Mr. Smith, apparently an assistant collector. About 1807, also, applications for grants, which had for a long time ceased, began to come in.

Of Henckellganj the subsequent history is this. After regaining a long time the property of Government, the raja of Nuddea claimed the reclaimed land, on the ground that it was part of the village Parbatpur, or Bangalpara, which was within his permanent settlement. The judge of Jessore, finding that it was so, decreed possession to the raja as zemindar, but as Government had spent so much money on its reclamation, the judge declared they might continue to possess as ryots, paying rent to the raja at pergunnah rates. When the case was appealed to Calcutta, the Government got still harder terms : it might retain the ganj alone (the place where the houses and market grounds were), paying rent of course to the raja, but would have to give up the cultivated land. The rent of the ganj was then about Rs. 550. But a brilliant idea struck the Board. If the raja was entitled to become a proprietor under the permanent settlement of Henckellganj, the revenue he would get from it must be added to the other assets of his zemindari (which it had not been of course), and his assessment must be increased by the assessment on Henckellganj, that is, ten-elevenths of the net revenue. The collector was accordingly directed to assess this addition to the raja’s zemindari. These proceedings lasted from 1802 to 1804.

The raja was not at all prepared to find that he had to render to the Government ten-elevenths of what he had gained by his decree, and he steadily refused to take the settlement which the Board offered to him at Rs. 531. The estate was consequently continually given out in farm, the zemindari allowance being kept for the raja. The raja finally sold all his rights for Rs. 8,001 to one Radhamohan Chaudhri, who in 1814 accepted the settlement, which had then
increased to Rs. 872.

Chandkhali I have not much information about. When at the place I made some inquiries, and was told it was reclaimed by Henckell ; whether for himself or on the part of Government, was not stated. After that it was sold (probably by Government) to one Rupram Mazumdar, and he transferred it to its present proprietor, Umanath Chaudhri of Satkhira. Kochua was at a very early period claimed by the Selimabad zemindars, but whether given up to them or not I do not know.

The subsequent history of Sundarban reclamation is beyond my present intention. It is sufficient to notice that, starting from the beginning I have described, grants have continually increased and cultivations continually extended. A belt of Sundarban land, about twenty miles wide, has been reclaimed from forest and brought under cultivation since the time when Mr. Henckell established his outposts at Kochua, Chandkhali, and Henckellganj.

Note: This account is taken from A Report on the District of Jessore : Its antiquities, its history and its commerce authored by J. Westland. It was printed in 1871 at Bengal Secretariat Office, Calcutta.

Top photo: Otters trained to drive fishes into net : In Sundarbans. Source: The Illustrated Sports and Dramatic News, November 3, 1923

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May 18, 1892, The Englishman: 

Mr. Savi, the Superintendent of the Elephant Kheddahs at Dacca, has signalised this season by breaking fresh ground. He has brought down no fewer than 266 elephants from the heart of the Garo Hills. This part of the country has never been hunted before,owing to the difficulty of making a road by which to get out the new captures. Mr. Savi is to be congratulated on having made a big catch, and also on having extended the area of operations. It is important that the usual hunting grounds may have a rest, and now that the Garo Hills are brought within reach by Mr. Savi’s enterprise, the risk of exhaustion in the old haunts will be minimised.

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