East Anglia, due to its location off the main thoroughfares of the nation, has long been a neglected part of England. Which, of course, proves to be an asset today to both its residents and those who stumble into the area looking for the England of a bygone era. Its native painter John Constable captured its unassuming countryside in his exquisite oils; almost two centuries later, you can easily recognize the same landscapes as you drive through its quiet flatlands. There's a magic about the area. It is more than mere coincidence that Cambridge, the great and beautiful fount of English learning, is hidden within this very landscape. The university has proved a magnet for those seeking sport and repose. Less than an hour away from Cambridge, northwestwards in the direction of the North Sea, is the sleepy hamlet of Thetford. Every now and then, it brings in the American tourist looking for the birthplace of Thomas Paine, the philosopher who inspired

the American Revolution with writings such as the 1776 pamphlet called "Common Sense".

Thetford marks the meeting point of two counties: Norfolk and Suffolk. It stands at the confluence of two rivers: the Thet and the Ouse. It has also become, through an unusual string of events that began in 1839 in the faraway kingdom of the Punjab, the meeting point of two cultures, of East and West.

The primary focal point of the majority of visitors today is another personage who made this area his home. His grave lies a few kilometers away, in the general direction of London, on the grounds of Elveden Hall. The palace was his home for almost 30 years in the latter half of the nineteenth century.

In Thetford itself, on the lush-green island that sits at the confluence of the two rivers, within a stone-throw of the town hall and facing it, is a huge bronze statue of a strikingly regal figure astride a horse, both ensconced above eye-level on a black-granite platform. It is a monument, which was unveiled by HRH The Prince of Wales on July 29, 1999 in honour of the most illustrious and colourful resident of this area:

The journey from Lahore, the Punjabi capital, to the grave at Elveden Hall besides that of his Maharani (Queen) and one of the Princes, was an epic one, beginning with the death of the Emperor Ranjit Singh in 1839. Duleep, the youngest Prince, was then less than a year old.

Turmoil and intrigue, fueled by British designs on the empire that stretched from Delhi to and including Afghanistan, followed the funeral and brought about the violent deaths of a number of successors. Until Duleep himself, at the age of five, was proclaimed emperor, with his mother, Queen Jindaan, as regent.

It took 6 more years for the British to find an excuse, albeit a flimsy one, to depose Duleep and annex Punjab to its Indian territories. The child Emperor was separated from his mother and immediately put under the guardianship of a John Login as "Superintendent".

It didn't take long for Login to announce that the child had, on his own volition, decided to embrace Christianity! The young boy, further separated from all the wealth and treasures of his kingdom - including the legendary Kohinoor diamond, which he wore oh his person - was shipped off to England.

The good Queen Victoria was distressed by the manner in which the young boy had been treated, but was impotent against the Tory government of the time, with which she was inhostility, in her ability to reverse the wrongs done.

She received him upon his arrival in England, and took an instant liking to him. The teenager quickly became a friend of the family to the extent that Victoria treated him as one of her brood. She would take him to Parliament with her and have him sit beside her: it provided her comfort during its raucous proceedings.

He grew up an Englishman, with all the idiosyncrasies common to the country's nobility. A keen hunter and sportsman, he acquired Elveden Hall in 1863 because of the wealth of game it had to offer. Duleep became renowned throughout Europe for his hospitality and regularly played host to Victoria's Consort, the Prince of Wales and the glitterati of the courts of Europe.

Local lore has it that both he and the Royal family had vied, in a friendly rivalry, for the acquisition of Elveden Hall. The royals preferred it to nearby Sandringham as a summer residence. The Thetford property was bigger: 22,000 acres by the time Duleep had finished adding to it. Its Georgian premises were more palatial. Duleep had further designed and renovated its interior in an exotic 'Taj Mahal' style. (You can get teasing glimpses of it in the recent Stanley Kubrick release of the movie "Eyes Wide Shut" and in the BBC version of "The Moonstone"). And the game was far more abundant.

Duleep refused to give up Elveden. Though Sandringham remained the official summer residence for Victoria's family, photo albums in both households - the Royal and the Singh - show that Duleep's palace and grounds became the hub of social activity. He played a gracious and generous host.

All was hunky-dory until Duleep started exploring his past. His mother, Queen Jindaan - who he had not been allowed to see from the age of 11 - was finally allowed to come to England a dozen years later. Grief stricken by the prolonged separation, she had become prematurely ill and blind. While tending to her, he rediscovered his rich roots and traditions - all of which had been kept hidden from him once his childhood tutelage began under Login.

Long after Jindaan died, the embers remained alive and, during the following decades, gradually turned into fires of hunger for more knowledge of his past. The more he studied the history of the events surrounding his dethronement and of the faith of his ancestors, he realized that the truth was far from what he had been told and taught by his handlers.

He shocked Victoria and the nation one day when he wrote to her and announced his re-conversion to Sikhism. He announced plans to visit Punjab, the land of his ancestors, to seek his roots. The Raj panicked: would his presence in India stir the fires of freedom? They refused him permission to visit Punjab, the land of his birth and the kingdom he had inherited from the great Ranjit Singh.

The more they denied him passage, the more strident he became in his zeal to return. In defiance, he proclaimed he wanted to free his people. The government retaliated by declaring him a traitor to Britain! And cut off his income.

He fled to Paris, refusing to set foot in England ever again. He died in Paris in 1893, a lonely and tragic figure.

Panic ensued once again in government circles. What if his remains were taken to India - even the dead Emperor was capable of inciting a revolution! His body was summarily whisked out of the Paris hotel room by British agents, secretly rushed back to England, and buried on his beloved estate.

Shortly thereafter, the property was acquired by Lord Iveagh, the scion of the family renowned for its ownership of Guinness.

The current Lord Iveagh is as gracious a host as his predecessors. He described Elveden's brief stint, during the Second World War, as the headquarters for the American Bomber Command, as he took us through for a special tour - the palace remains closed to the public. He's well versed with the rich history he has inherited, and shares it with us in sumptuous detail. And talks of his desire to rethe Duleep Singh wing some day soon as a museum in his honour.

The grounds offer a strange serenity: they have been a witness to so much. Despite all that has happened here - or because of it? - it has a definitive sense of peace about it. After all, it is a resting place. For the man still remembered in the region as the "Black Prince".

Dr. T. Sher Singh is a Barrister & Solicitor in Guelph, Canada. He is also a regular newspaper columnist and a TV/Radio commentator on current affairs. As well, he writes a weekly column for a Canadian newspaper syndicate.

For more information on the Maharaja and the yeoman service being done to identify and preserve Sikh historical sites in Britain, please visit www.mdsct.org.uk.