Indian Deaths At Brighton
Woking Mosque and the Burning Ghat at Patcham
With the presence of large numbers of sick and wounded Indians in
hospitals at Brighton there were sadly deaths from time to time. It was
important to respect religious or caste requirements in the matter of
their funeral arrangements.
Mohammedans
It was arranged that Muslim dead would be taken by road to the
mosque at Woking and interred at the Mohammedan Cemetery there after
prayers had been said by the Imam. A total of 21 Mohammedans were
buried at Woking and later re-interred in Brookwood Military Cemetery.
Hindus
Hindus, including Sikhs, Gurkhas and so on, were traditionally cremated
and their ashes scattered. The cremations of all Indian soldiers who
died in Brighton hospitals took place at the spot 500 feet above sea
level on the South Downs near Patcham that we now know as the site of
the Chattri. It is believed that the three granite slabs that form part
of the memorial lie directly over three concrete platforms upon which
the cremations took place. Fifty-three cremations took place at
Patcham, or around one per week for the duration of the Indians’ stay,
the first on 31st December 1914 and the last on 30th December 1915.
The small number of deaths at Brighton in proportion to the total
number of men hospitalised was rightly a matter of pride to the
hospitals concerned. But for those who are surprised by the small
number it should be remembered that most deaths from wounds occurred at
Field Ambulances and Casualty Clearing Stations within the proximity of
the front line. The men at Brighton had survived these facilities and
also voyages and treatment on hospital ships before completing their
treatment and convalescing here.
The Assistant Quarter Master of the Royal Pavilion Hospital was a young
medical student D.R. Thapar, then a member of the Indian Volunteers
Ambulance Corps and much later a general in the Indian Army Medical
Service. He was responsible for disposal of those who died in the
Pavilion and leaves some account of the arrangements:
“Muslims
had to be taken by road to the Mosque at Woking… The funeral cortege
comprised a motor hearse, a car and a couple of lorries to carry forty
or fifty mourners. It was fortunate that we had very few deaths as each
one meant a whole day’s travelling to London and back. The Imam Sahib
insisted on every detail to be correctly carried out and soon I became
proficient as an undertaker. On the first occasion it seemed strange
that the chief mourner should be a non-muslim, but the Imam Sahib was
very kind and considerate and soon initiated me into the procedure.”1
On 16th October 1915 The Times published a long and detailed account of
a cremation at the burning ghat by an anonymous correspondent. It seems
certain, from details in the account and from comparison with the Roll
of Honour that the correspondent attended the funeral of Mohiya Ram, a
member of the Supply and Transport Corps employed as a storekeeper at Z
Indian General Hospital, one of three medical units that occupied the
Kitchener Hospital:
“The dead man was not a combatant, but one of the personnel. The
funeral, therefore, lacked the picturesque element of wounded men as
bearers. But he was a Brahman, and of the Arya Somaj. There are many of
his kind in the personnel; and so instead of the usual single ambulance
wagon there were three full of mourners; and instead of the brief rites
of the Jats or the richer but scarcely longer ceremonies of the Sikhs,
we were to see something very elaborate…
Before the body was put into the big black
motor-hearse a photographer was allowed to come and take a picture of
the dead man’s features, to be sent to his relatives in far India. The
bier lay in a small court among the hospital buildings, where a little
crowd of the personnel had gathered to watch. Over the body was
stretched a pall of printed cretonne, bright flowers on a dark ground;
and white chrysanthemums were strewn lavishly upon it… The
photographing done, the face was covered, the bier was put into the
hearse, the crowd clambered into the big motor-ambulances, and we set
forth upon the long drive.
Through the pretty village of Patcham, intensely
English with its church and its duck pond, this strange funeral
procession went, till the road changed to a steep track; and before
long the motors left the track and took their heavy way over the soft
turf in a fold of the down. Soon there came into sight a very ugly
little screen and shelter of corrugated iron… there is no English word
for it: and but a short time ago to find its parallel one must have
journeyed thousands of miles. For this was the burning ghat of our
Hindu troops.
At the foot of the hill on which it stood the
vehicles stopped: the mourners clambered out of the ambulances, and
with much chattering and gesticulating began to take the body from the
hearse. In time (for all the ceremony was conducted with an odd mixture
of cheerful disorder, strict ritual and absorbed devotion) the
procession began to climb the hill, the mourners chanting as they went…
the sun came through the fog and round us lay the Sussex Downs in
characteristically English weather… we passed inside a little
enclosure, where stood three platforms of cement. One of these was
carefully swept and sprinkled with water; and when thus purified for
the reception of the dead, it was heaped with wood blocks for the
burning. The body, under its bright pall and the chrysanthemums, lay
outside on the grassy slope; when the preparations had been made the
mourners gathered round it. It was sprinkled with cleansing water: the
face was exposed again, and honey and ghee, and minute portions of the
eight metals, and other ritual things were passed between the pale
lips. Then the mourners gathered round in a semi-circle; and squatting
on their haunches with their hands folded and their eyes downcast,
chanted their sing-song chants, now shrill, now soft, now a murmur and
then a shout.
At last came the time of the burning… When all was
ready the body was laid on the pyre and over it and around it were
heaped more and more blocks of wood and much straw. Then crystals of
camphor were lighted in a spoon on the end of a long pole; and when
they were flaming well were poured on the centre of the fire. A flame
leapt up. A torch made of straw and camphor was lighted at this flame,
and applied to the four corners: melted ghee was poured here and there,
and soon the whole pyre was ablaze. And while it burned the mourners
kept tossing upon it little pinches of ghee mixed with grains and
fruit, scent, saffron, and spices.
It will burn for long: and today when the friends of
the dead man go back: they will find nothing but perhaps a few
fragments…”2
It is thought that the ashes of the cremated men were scattered in the sea by their comrades.
One particular cremation stood out in the memory of Assistant Quarter
Master Thapar:
“One occasion I shall never forget. In my hurry or
perhaps ignorance I asked for the necessary logs of wood and a drum of
kerosene for the cremation. When all was ready, we stood round the pyre
and after the Last Post had been sounded, I, as the chief mourner, set
it alight. There was a tremendous explosion and half the wood went
flying about and all of us were thrown a few feet away. It was perhaps
my mistake but the British Q.M. orderly not understanding what I meant
by ‘kerosene’ had issued a drum of petroleum. The correct nomenclature
should have been ‘paraffin.’ Fortunately no one was seriously hurt; and
after rearranging the pyre and rubbing down our bruises we all solemnly
swore that the incident would be considered ‘top secret.’”3
The Chattri memorial on the site of the burning ghat stands in memory
of all Indian soldiers who died during the First World War, 1914-1918,
but it will always be particularly associated with the 53 Hindu and
Sikh soldiers whose remains were cremated at this spot.
Notes
1 “The Morale
Builders: Forty Years with the Military Medical Services of India” by
Lieut.-General D.R, Thapar CIE, OBE, MD (retired) late Director-General, Armed
Forces Medical Services. Asia Publishing House, London, 1965.
2 The Times
of 16th October 1915.
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