This little work, simple as its title is, is quite unpretending. It hardly deserves to be called a history; nay it cannot even be placed side by side with Beveridge’s Backharganj or with Westland’s Jessore. In fact, it is a plain unvarnished record of my experience of Sylhet acquired during my residence in it for about two years. I went to Sylhet as Moonsiff of Russoolganj in 1872, and this book was written in 1874. At that time sylhet was under the rule of ...
