Maj. T. W. ROGERS - hunter becomes the hunted

BY J. B. Muller

From St. Mark's Church, Badulla, brass plaque on the wall (English). A plaque in Sinhala is to be found on the opposite wall (on the right hand side when one enters the Church building).

A.D. 1845

THIS CHURCH WAS ERECTED TO THE HONOUR OF GOD

In Memory of

THOMAS WILLIAM ROGERS

Major, Ceylon Rifle Regiment

Assistant Government Agent and

District Judge of Badulla

By All Classes of His

Friends and Admirers.

He was killed by lightning at

Hapootalle June 7th 1845

Aged 41 "In the midst of life

we are in Death."

And thereby hangs one of the most bizarre stories from the British period of this country's colonial history.

Major Rogers has come to our notice because he is reputed to have hunted down and shot over 1,600 elephants, about double the current elephant population of Sri Lanka in 2005.

As the assistant government agent and district judge of Oovah (Uva) he received a great deal of information about the herds of wild elements that roamed freely not only in the Dry Zone forests below the central massif but also those elephants that migrated regularly to the hills to feed, to mate, and do all the other things elephants are wont to do when they are both wild and free.

In this manner, Major Rogers came to know of a hasthi-rajah or elephant king, the paramount leader of a large herd of tuskers and said to be a magnificent tusker himself.

Rogers's blood caught fire when he heard this news and he decided that he would hunt this animal down and claim for himself the dubious distinction of having killed it.

Apparently, at this time, Ms. Buller, the wife of the Commissioner for Colombo City was visiting at Badulla and so, with a view to impressing her with his prowess, a hunting party was speedily assembled-horses, beaters, bearers, guns, food, and whatever else was required for a foray into the jungles below the blue mountains of Uva.

Quite probably Major Rogers and his hunting party took the route taken by the unfortunate Portuguese general, Dom Constatinho de Sa when he retreated from Badulla before the onslaught of Rajasinha's army-the Ella Gap, through Randeniwela to Wellawaya.

This was wild, rugged country with steep ravines, thickly wooded patches alternating with mountainous grassland and stupendous granite outcrops. The descent wasn't easy but it was full of adventure and the discovery of the unfamiliar, at least to British eyes.

The beating of the hunt began down there in the dry heat of the plains and continued northwestwards towards Koslanda and Haldummulla which lies at the foot of the Haputale Pass, the other entry point into the beautiful bowl Uva Valley.

On this day however, the formidable Major was not in luck's way. Nary was an elephant flushed from the jungle. Naturally, the Major was wroth, particularly as he had a lady friend to impress. Disappointed, they made their way up the steep climb on the southern slopes of the Ohiya part of the Uva massif.

By and by they came to the small, wattle-and-daub, thatched structure that was the Haputale Rest House in those far off days. Tired and frustrated by his lack of success the still smouldering Major Rogers sank down into one of the several hansi-putuvas or reclining chairs on the rough-and-ready verandah.

Here, he pulled out his pipe, filled the generous bowl with fresh tobacco, tamped it down firmly and put a match to it, drawing deeply of the fragrant smoke.

Meanwhile, Ms. Buller roused the appu, and betaking herself to the pantry at the back, busied herself in pouring some freshly ground coffee for herself and Major Rogers. Suddenly a tremendous, ear-shattering roar shook the entire building and the coffee pot fell from her hands to shatter on the floor.

The servants, wide-eyed with fear, gibbering, fled out of the building, falling and rolling down the steep hill at the back.

The scene that greeted Ms. Buller caused her to faint away instantly. There lay a mass of crushed flesh and bone, boots with the spurs on, the belt and clothes in one gory, grisly mess-the mortal remains of Major Thomas William Rogers.

When the good lady was in the Pantry brewing coffee, Major Rogers who was revealing in his pipe, eyes closed in blissful ignorance, heard a sharp snort.

Opening his eyes, he was astonished to see hasthi-rajah towering over him, its eyes red with rage, its lips flecked with milky foam. With a mighty roar that shook the building to its foundations, the king elephant gored Major Rogers to death, its tusks piercing his body over and over again.

The king elephant then picked up the lifeless remains and flung it down on the floor, stamping on the hot and bloody flesh until Major Rogers was reduced to a mass of unrecognizable pulp.

The bearers, the beaters, the Rest House staff, and the horses had fled the scene in blind terror. They had climbed trees fouling their clothes in the process as some vacated their bowels freely.