 Victoria Public Hall is one of the grandest of Chennai's colonial-era buildings. It was constructed to mark Queen Victoria's golden jubilee in 1887 - by which time she had been 'Empress of India' for more than a decade. And more than £3 million pounds has just been spent on a high quality renovation.  The building was known as the Town Hall, though as far as I can make out it was never a centre of municipal governance. It had a large auditorium which was used for political gatherings, theatre and musical performances and also as a sports venue. It has reopened in the last few weeks, and members of the public are at the moment allowed inside, once duly registered and issued with a wristband, to see an exhibition about the building's history and restoration (though, alas, no photographs are allowed inside the building). .  The Justice Party - the precursor of the still powerful South Indian Dravidian movement demanding social justice and an end to the dominant position of the small brahmin minority - held its founding meeting at Victoria Public Hall in November 1916.   The building was designed by Robert Chisholm, regarded as the most important figure in Indo-Saracenic architecture. But the design style is comparatively restrained and distinctly European, including an eye-catching Italianate tower.  The site was once adjoining the People's Park, more than 100 acres of parkland complete with twelve lakes. There's next-to-nothing of that park left, beyond a bust commemorating the governor who came up with the idea of the now lost leisure ground.  Just next to Victoria Public Hall is the striking, all-white Ripon Building. This was completed in 1913 and is the headquarters of the Greater Chennai Corporation. The municipal authorities have spent a lot giving Victoria Public Hall a new lease of life. It's already being put to good use. When I was there today, a schools' elocution competition was being held in the auditorium. And the exhibition about the hall, including an ambitious audio montage of the city, was drawing a respectable number of curious Chennai-ites. 
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 The churchyard last night was awash with noise, energy, excitement. And flowers. Thousands and thousands of them - on canopies, with lights and crosses. On the street outsides, dozens of stalls had been set up selling food, flowers, kids' treats, clothes - just about everything you could imagine. This was the Catholic church of Our Lady of Guidance in Chennai, close to the sea front and the famed St Thomas Basilica. The church was getting ready to honour its patron saint, St Lazarus. And how!   The annual feast of St Lazarus here - and this is, the church says, the 444th (yes, that's 4-4-4) on this site - lasts for ten days. It ends today. And on the last Saturday evening, nine religious statues are paraded around the local streets in what's called a car procession. That sounds very humdrum. In fact it's a riot of noise, colour and exuberance and goes on for several hours. I arrived at the church just as the frenetic final preparations were being made, with music blaring from the speakers set up all around the church compound. Lazarus, of course, was the man who Jesus raised from the dead (there's also another Lazarus mentioned in the New Testament, a beggar, and the two are often confused). St Lazarus is often associated with a Maltese-style cross, and that was evident in the decoration of the floats.  This annual event is clearly a big moment for the local Christian community. India's syncretism is evident - styles of veneration and festival common across different religions. And as far as I could see, there were lots of non-Christians running stalls, gathering around and want to be part of the 'tamasha'.  Rosalind had come with two other generations of her family to attend the mass that precedes the procession. She was happy to be photographed, and delighted that her (I presume) grandson is, like me, an Andrew.  And a splendidly uniformed band came along to add a high volume, high voltage charge to the evening. 
This church was established by the Portuguese by the 1570s. It was rebuilt in the following century, and there's still a plaque in Portuguese which seems to be from that time. The current building dates from the 1920s. For centuries, this was the church of St Lazarus. In the 1950s it was renamed as Our Lady of Guidance. But Lazarus remains the patron saint and the church stands on Lazarus Church Road.
If anyone wants to have a go at deciphering and translating the Portuguese inscription, here's a close-up. Good luck!  A lot of the action was on the street outside. A big turn-out was expected and the stall-keepers were ready. I was particularly taken by the woman with an outsize doll.  And everywhere the sense of anticipation was palpable. Long live Lazarus!      I'm back in Chennai - the city in south India of which I've grown so fond and familiar. And I've popped round again to a wonderful old church close to where I stay, the Portuguese-built Luz church (the church of Our Lady of Light) which dates from 1516. And I think I've managed to solve a longstanding mystery ... about this grave above.  As you can see, the plaque by this exceptionally old grave states that it's not clear who is buried there. Nor indeed what language the inscription is in. If you read on, I'll be able to fill in both historical blanks.
The Luz church is bewitchingly beautiful. But I hadn't noticed before the small plot of graves by one side of the church, of which the 1637 burial is one. The grave has a weathered emblem or coat of arms at the top, and then an inscription. The inscription has been damaged but it's still clearly legible.  What language is this in? Well, that's not too hard. It's Portuguese. It is antiquated, seventeenth century colonial Portuguese, and there are some irregularities in grammar, spelling and abbreviations. And it has been inscribed without all that many obvious breaks between words, with some words divided between one line and the next. So, the bigger question. What does it say? Well, I've resorted to help from ChatGPT - indeed I've never before relied on AI so much - but we've got there. 'Esta sepultura he de Dona Maria Rabela molher que foi de Migel de Souza Pimintela onde esta sepultados e u fil ho Vasco Fernao des Pimintel que faleceo em 31 de marco de 1637 annos e sua neta Dona Maria de Castro que falecio na mes Maria fio de Marco' Chat GPT offeres this fairly literal translation of the inscription: This grave is of Dona Maria Rabela, wife who was of Miguel de Souza Pimentel, where she is buried, and a son of hers, Vasco Fernão de Pimentel, who died on the 31st of March of the year 1637. And her granddaughter, Dona Maria de Castro, who died in the month [of March], Maria, child of Marco. Or in more polished prose: This is the grave of Dona Maria Rabela, wife of Miguel de Souza Pimentel. Here she is buried as is her son, Vasco Fernão de Pimentel, who died on 31 March 1637. Also her granddaughter, Dona Maria de Castro, who died in the same month, Maria, child of Marco. LATER: This post has stirred up a lot of interest. I hope it encourages some of those who read it to visit the Luz church in Mylapore. Perhaps not surprisingly, I am not the first to decipher the inscription on this grave. I have been sent this extract from a compendium of such inscriptions. Thank you! It's from Julian James Cotton, List of Inscriptions on Tombs or Monuments in Madras Possessing Historical or Archaeological Interest. This version is missing the last few words, and some of the personal names have been amended. I wonder if the church might like to reflect all this information in a new plaque alongside the gravestone? This is an important piece of its history   The oldest church in the New Forest, the twelfth century St Nicholas in Brockenhurst, has a large cache of Commonwealth War Graves in its burial ground. Most of these are of soldiers who died while being cared for in a First World War military hospital nearby. Many of these buried here are New Zealanders. But the hospital was established in the early months of the war to serve Indian soldiers fighting in France and Belgium. It was initially called the Lady Hardinge hospital, named after the wife of the Viceroy of India. Only a handful of the war graves are those of Indian servicemen. That's because Hindu and Sikh soldiers would normally have been cremated while Muslims were buried in a Muslim graveyard. But for several months this beautiful corner of the New Forest became a little India.    The most telling grave, however, stands alongside the Commonwealth war graves. It's listed as a war grave but doesn't share the typical design. It's the burial place of Sweeper Sukha Kalloo:  The inscription is difficult to read, though still legible with a little effort. This is what it says: THIS STONE / WAS ERECTED BY / PARISHIONERS OF BROCKENHURST / TO MARK THE SPOT WHERE IS LAID / THE EARTHLY BODY OF / SUKHA / A RESIDENT OF MOHILLA, GUNGAPUR, / CITY BAREILLY, UNITED PROVINCES, INDIA. / HE LEFT COUNTRY, HOME AND FRIENDS, TO SERVE OUR KING & EMPIRE, IN THE GREAT EUROPEAN WAR, / AS A HUMBLE SERVANT IN THE LADY HARDING / HOSPITAL FOR WOUNDED SOLDIERS / IN THIS PARISH. / HE DEPARTED THIS LIFE ON JANUARY 12TH 1915 / AGED 30 YEARS. / BY CREED HE WAS NOT A CHRISTIAN / BUT HIS EARTHLY LIFE WAS SACRIFICED IN THE / INTERESTS OF OTHERS. / “THERE IS ONE GOD AND FATHER OF ALL AND THROUGH ALL AND IN ALL.” / EPHESIANS IV. 6 The most detailed account of the grave and its occupant is on the website of the Church Monuments Society. This states that Sukha died of pneumonia. And it suggests that Sukha's low caste prevented him from being cremated in the manner of other Hindu soldiers. The grave is both deeply sad - because Sukha died so far from his home and may have suffered from his caste status - and uplifting, because of the generosity of spirit of the local parishioners.     The church of St Nicholas, a little way out of the small town of Brockenhurst, is spellbinding. It's still in active use.  Inside the church, there is a plaque which harks back to the Raj, the British Indian Empire.  And alongside the Commonwealth war graves, there's the burial place of a British officer in the Indian army who clearly wanted to rest alongside his fellow soldiers. Colonel Grace had family links with New Zealand and had served in the North West Frontier.  And in the town there are reminders of the Indian military hospital, with both a street and a house named after the Indian cantonment town of Meerut.   This is Jesse. Dad to David (the one who had a bit of a to-do with Goliath). I thought at first that he was on the phone. That would be a touch anachronistic for a figure from the Old Testament in a stained glass window which in a few years will celebrate its 500th anniversary.  This spectacular - and sizable - window is the principal feature of an early medieval chruch, St Dyfnog's, in the tiny village of Llanrhaeadr in Denbighshire. The window was first set in the wall in 1533. The whole thing was taken out and hidden during the Civil War of the 1640s and restored in 1661, It was boarded up during the Second World War as a precaution against bomb damage. The Jesse window is one of the most distinguished surviving pieces of medieval stained glass.  St Dyfnog, in case you dont know, was an early Welsh saint and a sixth century contemporary of Wales's patron saint, St David. Indeed, he is reputed to have been St David's beekeeper. Dyfnog (pronounced DUV-nog) established the church at Llanrhaeadr - the current building dates in part from the thirteenth century - and there's a well nearby which bears his name. Pilgrims to the well seem to have been an important source of revenue for the church.  The well after restoration https://stdyfnogswell.org.uk/our-story/ The well has recently been restored. The church sells bottles in which you can collect your own holy water. And there's a pool where, if you take a dip, you can be cured of your infirmities. Remarkably when we visited a couple of days ago, a wet mid-winter's day, a woman was immersed in the water.  Attribution: Llywelyn2000, CC BY-SA 4.0 And even here, in the fastnesses of rural North Wales, the Raj has left its mark (a topic which fascinates me). This is among the plaques at St Dyfnog's ...   My New Year's walk with friends today - something of an annual tradition - took me along the south bank of the Thames, from Rotherhithe to Greenwich. We passed by two splendid old churches in Deptford - I'll have to return to scout those out more carefully. But on such a cold, bright winter's day - ideal for an urban walk - it was the trail through the southern Docklands that stood out. We were just across the river from Canary Wharf. Canada Water was our starting point, with the modernist station of the same name looming over the water.  Canada Water is now a lake and wildlife habitat. It takes its name from Canada Dock and consists of the northern third of that dock. As the name suggests, it was used mainly by commercial shipping from Canada, The dock was closed in the 1970s, and about half the site is now the Surrey Quays shopping cenre.  Canada Water is the only freshwater lake in London's Docklands. A short walk away is the much bigger Greenland Dock - an impressive space with an avenue of plane trees and surrounded by smart modern housing. Greenland Dock is the oldest of London's riverside docks, dating from the 1690s. It was a hub of the timber trade and was also used by whalers operating in the seas off Greenland. This is what prompoted the dock to be renamed Greenland Dock, though the whaling ships had almost disappeared by the end of the eighteenth century.  Greenland Dock closed in 1970. All the surrounding warehouses have gone. But the redevelopment for residential and leisure use is impressive. It's still connected by a channel (the Greenland Cut) to the smaller South Dock.  So In this part of south London, you can stroll from Canada to Greenland in under fifteen minutes. What about that!  |
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