They stopped burying bodies at Penang’s old protestant
Christian cemetery in 1892, so if you like bone yards crumbling
and romantic, visit this burial ground on Jalan Sultan Haji
Ahmad Shah. It’s one of the best haunts in Southeast
Asia for ghouls favoring the colonial era.
The Penang cemetery holds the grave of Sir Francis Light,
part adventurer, part colonial visionary, and the founder
of the trading port. It is also the resting place of the brother-in-law
of Sir Stamford Raffles, founder of Singapore. And in one
tomb lies Thomas Leonowens, who died May 7, 1859, leaving
behind a widow named Anna. Anna, following her husband’s
death, went to Thailand and wrote a book about her experiences
as a school teacher there. She knew the king.
There are other stories here, too, told through the inscriptions
on the stones. W. Williamson of the Madras Medical Service
and his wife, Louisa Mary, buried four children in six years.
William Duncan, Providence, and William all lived a matter
of days. Florence Mary, the last child to be born and die,
lived one year, 8 months, 16 days. How much the parents cherished
that single year, those months, and the last remaining days
can almost be measured. The parents must have crumbled themselves,
like the stones, under the weight of their grief.
Lt. Col. Gregory Jackson, Matilda Jackson, and their son,
Gregory Jackson all died in March of 1855 within the space
of 24 hours, succumbing to an “unknown jungle fever.”
Christopher Henry Lloyd was murdered by a gang of robbers
one night in 1878.
Capt. John Cross of the Bengal Artillery, died at 83, and
is commemorated “as thoroughly honest, good hearted
& gallant a soldier as ever served.”
Capt. Cross seems to be the only occupant of the cemetery
that died of old age. Everybody else apparently died young
of jungle disease. And after reading stone after stone of
children buried by parents and families that died together,
it’s funny – though one shouldn’t laugh
at the dead — to read of a judge from India coming to
Penang “for his health” and dying aboard ship
in the harbor.
But the judge was probably heading for Penang Hill, behind
Georgetown. At an elevation of 830 meters, it was the first
hill station in Malaysia and probably a welcome relief from
India’s heat. It’s still a pleasant place and
my recommendation for the second “must do” thing
in Penang. You can hike to the top in four hours, or catch
a ride on the funicular train that goes straight up the side
of the mountain in 30 minutes. The old hotel – the Bellevue
— and several of the government or private bungalows
are still there at the top of the hill. Behind the hotel,
guests and paying customers can sit in rusty chairs on the
lawn and sip expensive beer while looking across to Malaysia’s
peninsular mainland with the sun going down behind them over
Sumatra. A pleasant veranda is above the lawn, but a sign
warns of poisonous vipers in the vines and trellis overhead.
I’d choose the rusty old chairs out in the grass.
(If you do not wish to succumb to one of the mysterious jungle
illnesses, apply liberal doses of mosquito repellant before
visiting the cemetery. The ground is spongy and clouds of
tiger mosquitoes rise with each step. The standard taxi fare
from Georgetown to the train to the top of Penang Hill is
20 MYR. Rooms at the Bellevue Hotel start at 120 MYR.)
