N. Francis Xavier
Part XXIX, (Continued from last week)
Santiago reached the shore with easy strokes. He took in the oars and jumped out pulling the boat high on to the beach. He took the head rope and made it fast to a tree stump close to the shore. He started taking things out from the boat. Suddenly, in the middle of his actions he froze. He lifted his head up and smelled the air.
Sheobrat looked at Hemraj, waiting for a silent signal to shoot. Hemraj shook his head. Killing a man before setting out on the last leg of their epic journey would be dangerous, and also inauspicious. He could see that Santiago got the smell of their campfire. He may suddenly push back into the sea and report the matter. Instead, it would be better to reveal themselves to him, and find out what his intentions were in coming to the island.
“Hello Saniago,” Hemraj said as he stepped into the open. Sheobrat kept watch from behind, the rifle hidden behind his back.
“Oh my God, is that you Hemraj?” Santiago said, with genuine surprise. “Everyone thinks you must be safe in India by now.”
Santiago and Hemraj were on very good terms. Both were convicts. Both were good sailors. The camaraderie of the sea brought them together.
“Well, we had bad weather, and had to take shelter many times, But what brings you here?”, Hemraj asked.
“Please let me pull this boat a little higher and land the provisions. Then we shall sit and talk. Be assured that I have not come searching for you”, Santiago said, with a smile.
The men pulled the boat high on to the beach, taking stock of the things kept in the boat. There were digging implements, provisions and seedlings of many types of plants in the boat.
Once the boat was secured the men sat down around Santiago. Wads of tobacco were offered, pipes lit and some coconuts opened.
“You must be aware that Capt. Wimberley was planning to expand the plantations in the Islands. He wants to have useful trees in as many uninhabited islands as possible, which may be of use to shipwrecked sailors. I have been sent as a pioneer to look for locations where useful trees could be planted.”
Hemraj was aware that Gen. Barwell and Col. Cadell have written to the Home Department to send some European convicts having knowledge of agriculture to appointed as overseers. There was only one response. The governor of Presidency Jail, Calcutta informed that one convict John Lonergan, was willing to take up the assignment. He was the only European prisoner in the jail, but proved to be so useful to the jail authorities that they were unwilling to part with him.
John Lonergan was not highly educated but a gifted person in many ways. He was fluent in the dialects of Bengal and Bihar and could also interpret Italian and Spanish. His knowledge of agriculture was restricted to maintaining a garden. But he was willing to go to Andamans as it meant ‘free’ status.
“Is Lonergan coming to join you”, Hemraj asked.
“No, not yet”. The people in Calcutta are terrified of the Andamans after what Crawford reported on his return”, Santiago answered.
Hemraj had seen Crawford but never knew the reason why he was sent up. He kept aloof from others and hardly spoke even to the Europeans.
“What did Crawford do?”, Hemraj asked. His intention was to keep Santiago engaged in conversation to know if there was any hidden intention in his visit.
“That’s a long story”, Santiago said as he took a long pull at his pipe. “But I’ll tell you, as there’s nothing better to do today. After that you can tell me your story, what you did all these days and what your plans are. I give you my word that I’m not here to search for you or report about you on my return. Anyway the Kwangtung will return after a month.”
“He was a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. He had served for thirty two and half years in the Subordinate Medical Department of the Bengal Establishment before retiring with a pension of Rupees 80 and Annas 7 (a princely sum in 1859). He was a successful medical practitioner and well known in the European circles of Calcutta. Michael Richard Crawford lived a contented life in Colonial Calcutta, supplementing his pension with the money he earned from his practice and surrounded by his large family of a wife and eight children, mostly girls. Life seemed comfortable.
“And then one night there was a knock on the door. ‘Police, open up,’ said a gruff voice. A shocked Crawford was arrested and taken away, to be produced before a judge. When he enquired what his crime was he was told that he had ‘witnessed’ a forged Will. A stern-faced judge sentenced the poor pensioner to eight years of penal servitude in the Andamans.
“Crawford pleaded that he was led by some people to sign the Will, which he unsuspectingly signed. Nothing was known of the people who made him sign the Will, or the beneficiaries of the Will. Poor Crawford, advanced in years and suffering from impaired vision, repeated attacks of fever and fits of asthma was sent away to the Calcutta House of Correction, where the main task of convicts was breaking stones. There was uproar in the European community.Crawford was quite popular among them as a gentle and amicable person. A petition, signed by 600 prominent people was submitted to Sir J.P. Grant, the Lieutenant Governor of Bengal, requesting him for mitigation of the sentence. It was in his powers to do so. But the LG declined saying it was submitted too soon after the passing of the sentence. Unable to bear the shame of serving his sentence in the city where he lived all his life Crawford applied for transfer to Andamans. In 1861 he was sent to Andamans as a ticket-of-leave convict — a better option as he would be free to move about the town unlike in Calcutta where he would be confined and made to do hard labour.
“Crawford came to the Islands during the tenure of Lt. Col. Tytler. Tytler treated him humanely. He was a model prisoner, much liked by the officers and inmates alike. His descriptive roll said that he was capable of performing ‘the duties of a clerk should such be requisite’. His character was shown as ‘very good’. His knowledge of medicine came handy in the Haddo and Ross hospitals. But the problems associated with the tropical climate started telling upon his health. Moreover the government stopped his pension, reducing his family, “to the levels below widows and orphans”. Obviously someone was behind the plot to send Crawford to the Andamans.
“After serving for about two years in the Andamans Crawford sent a long petition in flowery language addressed to Lord Elgin, the Viceroy and Governor General of India. The letter dated Port Blair 6th July 1863 begs for remission of the reminder of his sentence so that he may go back to his family living in dire poverty in Calcutta. He enclosed a certificate of good conduct from the Calcutta Jail and House of Correction, citing how he refused to run away during the famous Jailbreak of 10 March 1861. Col.Tytler also recommended his release saying how another convict, James Grimes, sentenced to 14 years for attempt to murder, had been released by his predecessor. At last the government relented and ordered that Crawford may be released after completing half his sentence. Within six months Crawford was on his way back, lucky to be able to return alive from Kala Pani.
“After his return Crawford refused to mingle with the European community in Calcutta. He also spread reports of the horrors of working in the Andamans, the climate, the diseases, and, the frequent murders. No European prisoners volunteer to come to the Andamans now. Soon I’ll be the only white convict here, and I’m seriously thinking of taking a native wife and settling down here.
Santiago finished his narrative.
“Well, let’s have something to eat now and then I’ll tell you my plans”, Hemraj said as the men rose to prepare food. (To be continued…..)
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