N. Francis Xavier
Part XXII, (Continued from last week)
“So, tell me that long story you said you’d tell me in the morning”, Col. Cadell said, as he poured a generous shot of whiskey into the glass in front of Capt. W.B. Birch. They were seated in comfortable chairs on the open terrace at the back of the Government House on Ross Island. A huge harvest moon rose above the horizon, bathing the landscape garden with a soft light. The sea shimmered like quicksilver.
“One can never imagine this kind of luxury back home in England”, Cadell thought, as he leaned back and got ready to listen to Birch’s story.
“To your health sir”, Birch said, as he raised his glass, “and to our great victory over the rebels in 1857, in which you showed great valour”.
The flattery pleased Cadell. The suppression of the Mutiny was, for him, the greatest achievement of his life. He never lost an opportunity to talk about the various engagements in which he played a key role.
A liveries servant brought plates full of delicacies and kept before the two. Cadell stretched his feet and placed them on a cushioned footstool.
“Sir, Liakat and I came to Port Blair at about the same time, in 1872, shortly after the assassination of Lord Mayo”, Birch started.
“He was one of the last of the mutineers to be caught, and one of the wiliest and most dangerous. But there’s an element of romance in his story, which makes it different from that of the others.
“I was in charge of the police in Sylhet during the Lushai uprising about that time and used to come to Calcutta frequently. The news of the capture of the great rebel made headlines in all the Calcutta papers. It was also reported in some papers back home in Britain and even America.The British rejoiced at his capture as he was held responsible for the many deaths of British subjects at Allahabad during the uprising.
“As I was in the police department I had contacts in Bombay police who kept me informed about his capture. At that time Bombay had a legendary police chief, one Mir Abdul Ali. Although he belonged to the Muslim faith he was loyal to the British. For his outstanding services we conferred on him the titles ‘Khan Bahadur’ and ‘Sardar’. We may call him a ‘hereditary detective’ as his father too worked for the Bombay Police for fifty years and cracked many tough cases.
“After escaping from Allahabad in 1858 Liakat wandered from place to place, changing names and in disguise. This way he evaded arrest for fourteen years. The police were on the lookout for him but whenever they almost had him in their net he would slip away, thanks to his own faithful informers. Finally he was traced to Baroda where he was living under the name of Abdul Kareem.
“There was not a shred of evidence to arrest him as no one came forward to identify him as the same Maulvi against who a warrant was pending since 1858. Meanwhile intelligence was received that he was in Bombay and about to leave the city for an unknown destination. Assistant Commissioner of Bombay Police MrEdgington managed to get orders from government to arrest Kareem which were received moments before he was about to board a train for Central India from Byculla railway station.
“Even then there was no proof to show that he was indeed the same Liakat Ali, the ally of Nana Sahib. The task of proving this was given to Mir Abdul Ali.
“At the time of arrest Liakat had with him a strange looking bamboo stick, with a crystal knob. When the knob was unscrewed it revealed a hollow space which contained gold ingots. The documents in his possession were in code. Mir Abdul Ali deciphered them, revealing a secret plan to overthrow the British.
“Based on the evidence Liakat was taken to Allahabad and put on trial. It was certain he would be sent to the gallows, but then a sudden twist took place”, Birch paused.
“A white woman came and testified that Liakat actually saved her life by disguising her as an Indian woman and claiming her to be his sister. This was sensational news indeed, when to most of the British he was a murderous fanatic.
“At the time of the Mutiny Liakat was a school master at Allahabad, an extremely handsome man of about twenty-five, and a fiery orator known for his piety. You may see he still is a handsome man. He was held responsible for spreading disaffection among the sepoys of the 6th Regiment of the Native Infantry stationed at Allahabad. You are aware that the sepoys, who were loyal to the British suddenly turned against them and killed all the officers.
Cadell stiffened at the mention of the Rebellion. It brought back memories of massacres and mass executions.
“I was told Liakat held a reign of terror in Allahabad for ten days. Almost all the British subjects in the city were slaughtered during that time. When Brig. Gen. Neill reached there Liakat fled, we all know that”, Cadell said, pouring himself another large drink.
“Yes sir, but there’s another side to the story which is oft not reported. Some believe he could not control the sepoys who were under the influence of the Nana, but saved the lives of many British. The woman I mentioned just now, Amelia Bennett was one of them. Some feel there was a romantic angle to the story, but we really don’t know.
“Anyway, based on her testimony he got transportation instead of the noose. We find in him a model prisoner. I was told he was very close to Fazal e Haqq, whose tomb is on the way to Corbyn’s Cove, during the uprising. As soon as he was brought here he first visited that Mazar and prayed there. I believe he told fellow prisoners he would also like to be buried there when he dies.
“Well, there are some fascinating characters among these convicts I must say”, Cadell said, wiping his walrus moustache. “But, do you think there was anything between him and Amelia? I mean really something… It hurts my feelings that a British woman would fall for a man like him ”.
“Sir, that would forever remain a mystery. Many times I tried to make him talk about it, but he wouldn’t. Let’s hope no such disgraceful thing happened. However, you need not feel bad about it, for Amelia is not British. She’s of mixed French and Indian parentage. What more can we expect from such background? I have taken much of your time with this story. Good night sir, and thank you for the drinks.
Birch rose and saluted, turned about and walked down the wooden staircase of Government House with unsteady steps.
(to be continued…)
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