To
the Memory of...
Kathmandu’s British Cemetery
By
Don Messerschmidt
Not
only did we want to see this quiet garden with its grey tombstones
and scarlet poinsettias, but we also sought a glimpse of history
available through the names and dates of some who lie buried here.
To visit the site we first sought permission from British Embassy
staff who guided us along the narrow lane behind the Embassy in
Lainchaur and down the hill to the edge of Samakhosi. On the north
side of the road we came to a gated archway with a simple sign:
‘British Embassy, Founded 1816’ (in English and Nepali).
The site is called ‘Kapur Dhara’, which literally translated
means ‘camphor waterspout’. More likely, however, the
name is a corruption of kapardar, an old Nepali word for ‘cemetery’.
To passers by the site is known colloquially as the Belaiti chihan,
the ‘British graveyard’, but many who pass this way
each day probably have no idea what, or who, lies within.
Each society has its own way of putting its dead ‘to sleep’,
so to speak. Some cremate, others bury, and some turn the bodies
over to vultures to dispose. Unless a body is buried with a headstone,
or a memorial plaque is installed somewhere to remember the deceased,
it is difficult to learn much history from the disposal of the dead.
European and American societies, however, have cemeteries dedicated
to the eternal sleep of the dead by interment, with engraved headstones
to remind visitors who’s who, resting underfoot. The notion
of ‘sleep’ is a common euphemism for the final rest
of the deceased and ‘cemetery’ ultimately means just
that. It is derived from Middle English cimitery, with origins traceable
back through French and Latin to Greek koimeterion, or ‘dormitory’,
from koiman, ‘put to sleep’.
Apparently, it was early Greek Christians who first applied the
term to a burial ground. The notion of a cemetery as a ‘dormitory’
harks back to an obsolete meaning of that word as ‘a place
for repose of the dead’, from Latin dormire, meaning ‘to
lie dormant’ or ‘sleep’. (I wonder how many college
and university students who reside in ‘dormitories’
know this archaic meaning of the term—as a place for the dead.)
In recent years, the study of cemeteries has become popular among
school children in the West, and by historians and anthropologists
around the world, all seeking a glimpse into a community’s
past. In Nepal the choice is limited. There’s a memorial plaque
at the site of the Thai Airlines crash of 1992, and there is a cemetery
near Lele at the site of the Pakistan Airlines crash of the same
year; but not all who died in that crash are buried there. One entire
family of the Pakistan air crash casualties, Andrew and Helen Wilkins
and their three children, are buried in the British cemetery. Seeing
their tombstone temporarily put a somber edge on our visit.
Nepal also has numerous Muslim graveyards, especially in the Terai,
as well as Gurung and other ethnic graveyards near villages in the
mid-hills. But, there is only one British cemetery, and (with rare
exception) you have to be a British citizen to be buried in it.
If you have any notions or curiosity about the past two centuries
of British presence in Nepal, you’ll appreciate the significance
of some names on the cemetery’s oldest headstones.
Long before a proper embassy, a British Residence was established
in Nepal in 1816 (though a representative was sent briefly a few
years earlier). The original Residence compound is now the Indian
Embassy. In 1954, seven years after Indian Independence (1947),
the old Residence was turned over to the Goverment of India for
their embassy. The current British Embassy was built after that,
a short distance away. The cemetery stayed with the British, though
it is physically separate from the embassy compound.
Our first impression upon entering the cemetery gate was of peacefulness
in the midst of the cacophony and commotion of the surrounding neighborhood.
Just outside the gate cars and motorcycles roar by, taxis queue
for passengers and farmers sell produce on the street side. Once
we were inside the cemetery gate, however, Samakhosi seemed far
away.
We were aware of several recent burials, from the late 20th century,
but were curious at first about those from the preceding century.
We commented on the fact that several of the graves are for children
of early British Residence staff. One from the early 1800s reads:
“Sacred to the memory of Alice Mary youngest daughter of Captain
William Boyd Irwin.” Alice Mary’s tombstone says that
she died 13 days after birth. Life in Kathmandu in those days was
not easy, and many children succumbed to disease and infection,
a century before the discovery of penicillin. The relatives of other
Residence staff are also interred here. One is the wife of Dr Daniel
Wright, MD. Her grave monument is one of the largest and most prominent
in the cemetery. It reads: “Sacred to the memory of Ceclilia
Ann Broughton the beloved wife of Surgeon D. Wright M.D., Residence
Surgeon at Katmandoo, obiit 17, 1873.” Wright’s son,
Alexander, is buried under the same monument.
Daniel Wright served as the Residence Surgeon, or chief medical
officer, for ten years, 1866 to 1876. He, like others posted to
the isolation of Kathmandu, not only performed his official duties
but also pursued intellectual interests. He is noted for collecting
and preserving a large number of Sanskrit manuscripts and Tibetan
block-printed books, all of which he donated to the Cambridge University
Library. Wright also wrote the extensive History of Nepal: With
an Introductory Sketch of the Country and People of Nepal, published
by Cambridge University Press in 1877 (available today in reprint
editions). Remarkably, he wrote it in Parbatiya (Nepali; translated
by Munshi Shew Shunker Singh and Pandit Shri Gunanand). In it he
notes that “in Nepal the Resident has nothing whatever to
do with the Government of the country. In fact, he merely acts as
consul, in the same way as the British consul at any European Court.”
Then he makes an observation that is as true today as it was in
his day: “The Nepalese”, he wrote, “are particularly
proud of their independence, and most jealous of any interference
with their domestic policy.”
Other early Residence personnel also interred in the cemetery include
F.G.F. Deatker of the Indian Medical Department who died age 51
in 1842, and Hastings Young of the 63rd Regiment, Bengal Native
Infantry, who briefly served as Assistant Resident. We know nothing
more about young Hastings other than he was only 20 years old when
he died in March 1840.
The oldest inscription in the cemetery is that of “Robert
Stuart, Esq.”, son of one Sir John Stuart. Robert served as
Assistant to the first British Resident “At the Court of the
Raja of Nipaul”. He died and was buried in March 1820.
Since the cemetery was established in 1816, we assumed that there
are graves older than Robert Stuart’s. We searched and found
one small monument on the knoll that looked very old. It is so badly
weathered, however, that no inscription is discernible. Given its
small size, it may also have been for a child, perhaps the first
to have been buried here.
We then turned away from the old gravestones and looked for those,
more recent, whose names and lives were more familiar to us. Here
lies our old friend, the Russian hotelier Boris Lissanevitch. Boris
was born in Odessa in 1905 and died in Kathmandu in 1985. His great
grandfather was a prominent Russian soldier and, in his youth, Boris,
too, was a cadet, headed for a career in the Tsar’s army.
During the Russian Revolution, however, he fled the country. His
life then took on a series of very different and seemingly unpredictable
directions. For some years, for example, he was a dancer in the
world famous Diaghilev’s Ballet Russe. During the 1930s he
found himself in Calcutta without citizenship or passport. Thus
stranded, he and a few friends decided to open the (soon to be famous)
Club 300. There Boris met royalty and politicians of several countries,
especially Nepal. His friendship with King Tribhuvan and other prominent
citizens of the realm eventually drew him to Kathmandu where he
opened the first hotel, the Royal (with its Yak & Yeti bar),
on Kantipath (where the national Election Commission office is now).
We knew him in those days, and enjoyed sitting around the Yak and
Yeti fireplace in winter, sipping drinks and listening to Boris,
always the raconteur, telling stories. Later he built the Yak and
Yet Hotel in its present location at Lal Durbar. Boris’ long
and eventful life is described in his biography, Tiger for Breakfast
by Michel Peissel (1966). Somewhere along the way, Boris took British
citizenship, which made him eligible for interment in the British
cemetery. Beside him are the graves of his mother and the mother
of his second wife, Inger, who still lives in Kathmandu.
Another of Kathmandu’s memorable characters was Frederick
Ralph Bowles, more well known simply as ‘Freddie’ to
those who knew him as the jovial bartender at the Malla Hotel. Freddie
(1913-94) is actually buried elsewhere in the valley, but his plaque
in the British cemetery serves to remind us of his wonderful character.
It reads, in part: “Freddie, the bartender bard... the first
Englishman to become a Nepalese citizen and who found his Shangri-la
in Nepal”.
One of the more interesting graves is that of Mike Cheney (1928-1988):
“In loving memory of Micheal John Cheney 10th Gurkha Rifles
and Friend of Nepal.” (Was his name really ‘Micheal’,
or is that a misspelling of Michael on the stone?) In the British
Army he rose to the rank of Captain in an artillery regiment. After
retiring, ‘Mike’ stayed on in Nepal working in the mountaineering
and trekking industry, with Himalayan Rover Treks, Mountain Travel
and the Sherpa Cooperative. Mike Cheney was a bit flamboyant, occasionally
riding through the streets of Kathmandu on his bicycle, dressed
in a Scottish kilt. His tombstone, too, is distinctive, the most
unusual in the cemetery. It has a white cross along with a miniature
Buddhist stupa all freshly painted when we saw it. And someone had
thoughtfully left a bouquet of fresh flowers.
Desmond Doig (1921-83) is also here. Born of Anglo-Irish parents
in Calcutta, he worked for some time on The Statesman newspaper,
and later moved to Kathmandu. He was well known in both cities as
an artist and writer. While in Calcutta he wrote a biography of
Mother Teresa (Mother Teresa: Her People and Her Work, 1976) and
in Nepal he co-authored a mountaineering book with Sir Edmund Hillary
(High in the Thin Cold Air, 1962). As an artist he also published
two books of nostalgic sketches of neighborhoods and landmarks in
both cities (Calcutta: An Artist’s Impression, 1976, and My
Kind of Kathmandu, 1994). His book, Look Back in Wonder (published
posthumously in 1995), relates his impressions from travels in Europe,
Africa, Tibet and South Asia.
Although a main requirement for interment in the British cemetery
is British citizenship, there are exceptions. Robert Rieffel (1913-2000)
and his wife, Cécile (1913-85), for example, were French
citizens. The Rieffels first came to Nepal when Robert served as
the Air France representative. Later he became Managing Director
of Royal Nepal Airlines, and Honorary Consul-General for Belgium.
Robert published two books, Nepal Namaste (1975 and 1987) and Nepal:
Collection Les Grands Voyages (1978). The Rieffels expressed their
wish to be buried at Kapur Dhara and because they were such long
time residents of Kathmandu and out of respect for Cécile’s
dedicated social work and, perhaps, for her closeness to the expatriate
British community, an exception was made. The Rieffels lie buried
together amidst the trees in the peaceful ambience of this unique
resting place alongside so many other
expatriates of the past.
We closed the gate behind us when we went out, leaving the deceased
to ‘Rest in Peace’, knowing, full well, that there are
many more stories to be told. |
|
|
|

Please contact
our
sales department:
ad@ecs.com.np
or call us at
5528344
|
|
|
|