English Cemetery, Funchal, Madeira. 2007.
Judith's
visit
I retrace my steps to the British Cemetery. Easy entrance - I just rang the
doorbell and the janitor lets me in, no questions asked. No one around in this
lovely spot except the gardener - feels a bit Easter-ish! Hundreds of tiny
lizards scuttle everywhere but they are quite harmless of course. Great
excitement as I find the Hubbard/Evans memorials on the wall in the corner as
Aunt Frances had described. No rummaging behind shrubs and bushes nowadays, as
all is in order. I also find the original gravestones nearby which AF never
found.
Vivid dream:- I
go back down to the British Cemetery and I ask to borrow the Registers which
contain the lists of those buried there. I was given a venerable and vulnerable
leather bound book with pages made of parchment; it was so very precious. The
cemetery and chapel were both undergoing extensive renovations, with dust and
dirt, workmen and cement and tools everywhere. It was a general builders' site.
I am holding this wonderful treasure of an old book which seems alive with its
hidden knowledge waiting to be explored. I wander around the rubble, rebuilding
and muddle with the book in my hands. I am looking for a safe place to open it.
I awake = end of dream.
I go back down to the British Cemetery, 235, Rua da Carreira, ring the bell at
the door and I am let in. I ask to see the Registers. The Janitor takes me to
the little room (and opens what looks like a very C of E church safe) where the
registers are kept - or rather the copies. Someone has typed up the entries and
everything is in a new folio. We easily find the entries for George Evans, a
great, great uncle and John Waddington Hubbard.
I then ask to see if we can find anyone with the name of Phelps and an
interesting entry springs up....
‘James Phelps, a Black, for
upwards of 60 years a household servant in the family of Joseph Phelps, Merchant
of this place, said to be aged 74 years, died in this Island of Madeira on the
19th and was interred in the Old British Burial Ground on the 20th day of March
1838....’ What
was ordinary to that culture and time; was ordinary! If those older generations
saw us now, what a shock they would get at our culture and technology.
We also looked for other Phelps but time was running out.
I told the janitor how Aunt Frances had come here in 1953 and how she described
the awful state of the cemetery. He said he was born here in 1953 and that his
father was janitor and would have been the one who met Aunt Frances. Yes, it was
a mess until about ten years ago. Now there is funding to keep the place
beautiful. I showed him the Evans and Hubbard memorials and tombs. He said this
was unusual - - one or the other but not both. Obviously no expense spared.
Because of where the tomb stones are, they are still in their original position.
He explained how the new road had changed things a lot, when Funchal’s road
system was changed from being medieval paths and alley ways to how it is now.
I wondered who paid for the memorials – Did Emma Evans, losing a son and a brother? The
grave stones are very basic; it looked like some-one later on put up the
memorials.
The janitor also showed me an old picture of the cemetery and chapel; showing
how the chapel was once central to the cemetery.