Southern India | Sri Lanka
This text was originally written by the coordinator of the respective volume for the print edition as an introduction to the geographic area in question; the possibility of updating it was left to each author’s discretion. It should be interpreted together with the general introductory text from the respective volume.
South India | Sri Lanka
The area covered in this part of the volume takes in 23 sites spread along the coasts of Malabar (or, more modern, Kerala) and Coromandel – the southern sections of the west and east coasts of Hindustan, respectively – as well as Sri Lanka. Despite the various historical processes, on Asian scale it constitutes a confined and coherent area, albeit marked by a diversity that enables us to observe the main types of occupation developed by the Portuguese in Asia. All this is obviously because we are looking in from the sea. If we placed ourselves in the Indian subcontinent’s interior we would soon perceive the looming coalescent might of the Indian empire of Vijayanagara (Bisnaga or Narsinga to the Portuguese), which was then extending its influence to all of southern Hindustan north of Ceylon. This brief outline should provide an idea of just how complex the history and context of Portugal’s nearly century-and-half presence in the area is – a complexity augmented by the intensity of the undertaking, namely in Ceylon. If it were not for the fact that no territorial space was ever consolidated and dominated for some time, we could consider the area to be the Província do Sul of the Estado da Índia.
Each of those three regions is marked by places with particular symbolism in the expansion process. Just as the apostle Saint Thomas is said to have disembarked for the first time in India in Malabar, specifically around the year 50 in Kodungallor [Cranganore], the region was also where the Portuguese first arrived and established a foothold in Asia. Ceylon was soon subject to a major effort to assure absolute sovereign control over an islandterritory, which might have considerably changed the fortunes of the Portuguese Empire I Asia; there were even calls to move the Estado da Índia’s headquarters there. And Coromandel was imbued with the mythic legacy of Saint Thomas in Mylapore [Meliapor], where he suffered martyrdom and was buried in the year 72. That legacy also extends to Malabar, where the presence of Saint Thomas’s apostolate and the subsequent Nestorian Christianity could only appeal to the Portuguese during the first contacts with the region. Of course, for all three areas there were also other sides of the coin...
For obvious geographic reasons (Malabar and Coromandel meet at Kanyakumari [Cape Comorin] and Ceylon is a sort of extension of the subcontinent), this area is the maritime gateway to the eastern half of the Indian Ocean leading on to the Far East and the wealth of China, Japan and the Moluccas, etc., which was concentrated in Malacca before being shipped to India. It was also the gateway to the Bay of Bengal, Bago [Pegu] and Siam. But the region also produced spices such as pepper and cinnamon, then considered almost precious goods in Europe. Also precious, both then and now, are the gemstones from Ceylon and pearls from the Gulf of Mannar separating the island from India. Accounts written before the Portuguese arrived by sea effectively describe this area. Also mythical was Taprobane – the island in the middle of the Indian Ocean first described by Megasthenes (350-290 BC) and later made famous by Ptolemy (90-168 AD) – which the Portuguese identified as being Ceylon.
It is not by chance that numerous wealthy Muslim merchants (most belonging to the Mappila community) were established in Malabar, whose principal native religion was never Islam. They shipped their merchandise to the land routes that continued on from the Persian Gulf and also from the Red Sea. At certain times some even dominated some of the Malabar Coast kingdoms. For obvious reasons, they were the main enemies of the Portuguese presence. In sum, a large number of arguments can be used to show the great strategic value of this geographic area, the maritime springboard of Asia. By itself, this explains why the Portuguese initially concentrated there. Only a more detailed and integral understanding of how Asian trade flows worked and the extent to which internal action could be lucrative, not just the trade to Europe, led to other options, in which this area nevertheless continued to play a central role.
The Dutch were then known to be developing a presence almost solely with commercial intentions. They persisted and were able to control these regions, combining that action with domination of the Moluccas and thus becoming the main reason for the decline and disappearance of the official Portuguese presence over the course of the second half of the 17th century. As I indicated in the initial text, the crown placed special emphasis on controlling areas where it enjoyed stable and expressive territorial dominion: Goa and the Província do Norte. The Padroado and some Portuguese remained as integrated residents, not colonists. It is significant and surprising, especially in Ceylon, to find the Portuguese presence still recorded in the family names of numerous families, many of them unaware of this. Only a small number are likely to be actual Portuguese descendents; the names would have been given out at the moment of conversion to Catholicism, i.e. baptism. But to be Catholic then meant to be Portuguese, and indeed Portuguese designations are found on countless signs identifying businesses and companies in the most populous Sinhalese cities.
Led by Vasco da Gama, Portuguese navigators first stepped on Asian soil in Malabar on 20 May 1498, at a beach north of Kozhikode [Calicut] where nowadays a small monument can be found, with difficulty. The historic process that followed is well established and divulged; the essential part was also summarised in the initial text. It is nevertheless important here to recall how a first lasting Portuguese base in Asia was established in Kochi [Cochim] in 1503, a factory which three decades later, already a developed city, would see that central status shifted to Goa. But it did not lose its central position. The trade routes, including the India Run, continued to pass through Kochi, which the Portuguese had made supplant other ports in the area. Some of those were also subject to actions associated to Portuguese domination. The Malabar Coast was soon dotted with Portuguese forts and factories, some quite precariously established, owing not just to the reaction unleashed by the Muslim merchants but also to the unsuitability and obsolescence of the built systems, an issue I shall take up again later.
Almost immediately after the installation in Kochi and other Malabar ports such as Kannur [Cannanore], Kodungallur [Cranganore] and Kollam [Quilon], the Portuguese began to visit Ceylon. But they were only able in 1518 to establish a presence in Colombo (the outlet port for cinnamon, close to the capital Kotte, which it eventually replaced and absorbed), with this first phase only lasting until 1524. Once the situation in the entire area was stabilized they re-established a presence in 1551. Colombo thereafter flourished as a Portuguese port city, with the king of Kotte even acknowledging Portuguese sovereignty. But two other kingdoms also shared the island at the time, and they were always ferociously opposed (with strong outside backing) to any Portuguese hegemony. Indeed, the attempt to control the island was very slow and gradual. It only became clear, open and partly successful during the intense and violent campaign that began in the 1590s. But control was never even achieved over half the island, which corresponded to a territory measuring about two-thirds the area of Portugal.
The Portuguese presence on the Coromandel Coast was initiated by private individuals, ‘lançados’, many of them renegades. Indeed, when the position of captain and factor of the Coromandel Coast was created in 1521, one of its stated aims was to guarantee control over the many deserters from the Malacca garrison and other fugitives from Portuguese justice. Despite various attempts by the crown, opposed by the settled casados, Nagapattinam was only fully integrated into the Estado da Índia in 1642. And this was only because the Dutch threat had materialised. But even though fortified, the city surrendered in 1658. That same year the Dutch occupied Thoothukudi [Tuticorin], a city whose main activity was gathering and trading pearls. It never had any link to the Portuguese crown, though the Jesuits carried out significant activity there.
What the Portuguese called São Tomé de Meliapor, otherwise Mylapore, is nowadays an integral part of the Chennai [Madras] urban area. It was Portugal’s main foothold on the Coromandel Coast and, from the standpoint of trade flows, the Bay of Bengal as well. This led to the Occident’s rediscovery of the hypothetical tomb of the apostle Saint Thomas in 1521 and consequent renovation of the associated buildings. The city then developed at a rapid pace, gradually replacing the previous site of Portuguese installation in the area, Pulicat (Paleacate), where casados settled starting in 1518 about 40 km to the north. There is no doubt that it had better port conditions, but there was no getting round the religious imam of Mylapore. No vestiges of the Portuguese presence remain in Pulicat, one reason being the early Dutch conquest in 1609. On the other hand, both Pulicat and Mylapore were among places with a significant Portuguese presence and influence which were never fully integrated in the administrative system of the Estado da Índia, i.e. the Portuguese colonial system, even though the latter inevitably became an important pole in the Padroado’s geography.
Situated away from the routes leading to the Far East, but part of the logistics of the Bay of Bengal, Mylapore’s destiny followed a different course from other cases in the area. The creation of the diocese and local council in 1607 finally endowed it with the minimum organization and status for it to be considered part of the Estado da Índia. Five years later the community fortified itself in anticipation of the attacks eventually begun by local sovereigns in 1646. Several years beforehand (1639), the British had established themselves a few kilometers to the north in Chennai [Madras]. In 1662 the King of Golkonda took the city. In 1672 it was the turn of the French; they successfully attacked Mylapore but had to surrender to the Dutch two years later, who promptly returned it to Golkonda. In 1687 a weak Portuguese administration was re-established. This phase came to an end in 1749 when it was conquered by the British ‘allies’. The French had meanwhile successfully settled in Pondicherry, 120 km to the south.
Dutch harassment was almost always in collusion with local rulers. Basically, the Dutch only wanted to set up fortified factories (which they did not even do in Mylapore). This was unlike the Portuguese, who did not always want to dominate territory, but did want to catechize the various creeds. As indicated in the respective entry, the Dutch process of occupying and adapting Kochi is a good illustration of that difference. Dutch naval action in Ceylon began in 1538 with the capture of Batticaloa, leading to its definitive loss by the Portuguese in 1658 with the conquest of Jaffna (as we have seen, the same year in which Nagapattinam and Thoothukudi fell, across the straits from Ceylon). Kochi had capitulated in 1633, and Malacca (the Portuguese base for the Far East) in 1644. The fall of the last redoubt in Ceylon also marked the then symbolic end of Portuguese domination of the south part of the Indian sub-continent and the trade routes to the Far East.
This volume is essentially meant to list and characterize the architecture and urbanism of Portuguese origin in the world, based on what remains. Significant vestiges of architecture can still be found in the area in question, but not so much of urbanism. Ruin, thorough transformation and permanent destruction prevail. But what is perhaps most important is that Portuguese influence, no longer in its original form, continued to play a role. The two concepts, origin and influence, were already discussed in the initial text. They are relatively easy to distinguish, but not easy to use as labels when faced with real objects, especially when a truly colonial situation is not identified. Where the Padroado’s action was extensive and prolonged, as is the case, it seems obvious to me that it is more correct to use influence, even if that takes us up to or beyond the bounds set by this project.
Rather than the fortifications, what is most interesting for us in Malabar/Kerala is actually the religious architecture. It has been systematically studied, which allows us, at least through the efforts of its main specialist, Helder Carita, to have a more up-to-date reading of the whole, which otherwise extends to Ceylon and the Coromandel Coast. This architecture has a strong identity and image resulting from a complex set of influences, because even before the Portuguese arrived there was Christian architecture in the area. In any case, other buildings remain to be identified and studied, namely in northern Ceylon. That part of the island was affected by civil war in the last few decades, thus hindering fieldwork by experts, arduous even under normal circumstances. But we do know that Portuguese urban settlements did build churches along the lines of Portugal’s medieval/ Renaissance, i.e. Manueline, apogee. What little that remains, along with descriptions and engravings, especially those of Philippus Baldeus, gives us an idea of what they were like and the major investments made in them. Curiously, the Portuguese register is most clear inside the churches, namely in the pulpits and retables, which contrary to the architecture immediately recall what can be seen in Goa and the Província do Norte.
In the fortifications, and contrary to what happened in the Província do Norte, for example, where Portuguese military architecture had the opportunity to develop until much later, becoming powerful to the point where later occupiers could reuse them, the bulwarked defense structures built by the Portuguese in this area were rather simple, often built of poor quality or precarious material. Although many were modern, they were still from the experimental period, with some even retaining archaic features, as we can see in some images. Little or nothing of this is still standing. With very rare exceptions, what remains is fragmented or integrated in later structures in such a way as to make a reading difficult and photography useless. Of course, as stated in the entry on Military Architecture in Ceylon/Sri Lanka, many structures remain to be located and studied, namely in the interior, largely for the reason indicated in the previous paragraph.
In this regard and due to their exceptional nature, I must here mention four reports (two and two copies) produced in 1624 and 1638 by Constantin de Sá de Noronha and Constantino de Sá de Miranda about the fortification of Ceylon, lately studied in Os Olhos do Rei by Jorge Flores. They also portray other aspects of the island, although they were expressly commissioned by the king to assess Portuguese strength, in line with the report by António Bocarro and Pedro Barreto Resende (and similar ones) on the entire Asian area. Note that the latter report and others of its kind seem to avoid describing Portuguese fortified positions in Ceylon, which was subject to specific commissions. Beyond interest related to this discipline, this gives us an idea of the extent and megalomania of Portugal’s investment to assure domination of Ceylon, even though in the Província do Norte and Goa efforts were being made during the same period to effectively build large defense structures like those desired there.
That commitment has been reflected in historiographic production and in Sinhalese published output about the Portuguese presence in those places, in recent decades accompanied by Portuguese historians. But specialized research on architecture and urbanism is almost non-existent. Relevant, though to a lesser extent, is the available production on the presence in Malabar, which remains focused on Kochi. The much lower investment in production of knowledge about Coromandel, namely regarding the subject matter of this work, is perhaps due to the informal Portuguese presence in that region more than to the few surviving vestiges. Nevertheless, the geographic and thematic comprehensiveness of the bibliographic listing that follows (according to the rules set for the whole work, lightened of titles referenced at the end of my text opening the volume) provides just a bare idea of what is available concerning this area.
Walter Rossa
Military Architecture
Ceylon/Sri Lanka
The Island of Ceylon (the current Sri Lanka) had been frequented by the Portuguese since 1506, especially the territories in the southwest and northwest. The official presence in Colombo lasted from 1518 to 1524 and again from 1551 to 1656. A second fortress existed in Mannar from 1560 on. Only in the mid-1590s did campaigns get under way to conquer vaster territories along the island’s west coast. But these were later lost to the Dutch, mainly during the decade from 1640 to 1650. The first Portuguese fortress taken by the Dutch was Batticaloa (1638); the last was Jaffna (1658).
This volume includes separate entries for the forts of Batticaloa, Colombo, Galle, Kayts, Mannar, Negombo and Trincomalee. But other Portuguese forts and stockades existed in contiguous spaces, most built between 1597 and 1612, and in some cases in the 1620s. Although most of these structures are lost, the remains of some survive; during the 20th century they were also referred to by a number of authors. It is a research job that remains to be done.
Noteworthy are the following locations where vestiges of Portuguese fortified structures may still exist, according to Abeyasinghe: Alawwa, Attapitiya, Batugedara, Chilaw, Damunugashima, Deewala, Diyasunnata, Etgaletota, Ganetenna, Gurubewila, Holombuwa (Menikkadawara), Kaduwela, Katugampola, Kuruwita/Delgamuwa, Malwana, Matara, Mottappuliya, Pentenigoda, Ruwanwella, Sitawaka and Uduwara. These forts and stockades were built during the 1597-1612 wars to ensure control of extensive territories in southwest Ceylon and block accesses to the Kingdom of Kandy in the central mountains.
Continuing to use information from that researcher, in 1608 orders were sent from the home kingdom to improve or create fortifications in Alutgama, Chilaw, Colombo, Galle, Kalutara, Matara, Panadura, Puttalam and Weligama. Those orders were only implemented in Colombo, Galle, Kalutara and Panadura. But there was a surge in fortifications in the 1620s, encompassing Ceylon’s west and east coasts in an attempt to isolate the Kingdom of Kandy and keep out European rivals. Noteworthy for the years 1620-1630 are the no longer existent fortresses of Jaffna (totally transformed during the Dutch period), Kalutara (Calaturé), Menikkadawara (square fortress and stockade of Manicrauaré), Panadura (Panaturé) and Sabaragamuwa (triangular fortress of Sofragão).
Most of the cases not listed separately in this volume were structures made of packed earth and wood, with limited use of stone and lime, except for the fortresses of Jaffna, Kalutara, Malwana, Menikkadawara, Sabaragamuwa and Sitawaka. Earthen structures usually tend to degrade rapidly in tropical environments such as the humid zone of southwest Sri Lanka. But much also depended on local geological micro-conditions. For example, some vestiges of the Sinhalese forts that protected Balana Pass near Kandy in the 17th century still survived in the mid-20th century. As for the Menikkadawara fortress, Portuguese sources state that the soil quality protected the structure from monsoon floods. Systematic archaeological prospecting work is required, based on Portuguese and Dutch written sources and local archaeological bibliography.
Zoltán Biedermann
Religious Architecture
Malabar/Kerala
The Churches of South India constitute an especially important output in the scope of religious architecture produced by Portuguese influence in the Orient, given its very original adaption to the spatial values of Indian architecture and to the region’s particularly hot and humid climate. This is above all linked to the influence of the community of Saint Thomas Christians, whose age-old traditions stemmed from a profoundly Indian spiritual base and culture. As their Christian architecture had been present in the territory of South India for many centuries, their churches functioned as a bridge between the models imported from Europe and the traditional values of Indian architecture, playing a fundamental role in the development of Indo-Portuguese architecture.
Overall, this output is spread among Malabar Coast villages up to Kanyakumari [Cape Comorin] and stretches into the interior of the current state of Kerala, attesting to the intense activity, not just evangelising but also constructive, resulting from Portuguese influence. It is especially interesting that after the Dutch occupation and consequent withdrawal of Portuguese authorities, these churches were able to remain up to the 19th century, with the same Mannerist typology formulated in this region in the 16th and 17th centuries repeated with small changes as the Catholic church model.
Note that this architectural production is split among two large communities of very different economic, representative and social status. The first is mainly found in villages along the Malabar Coast and corresponds to Macua fishing communities, included in a very low-caste social group in Indian society. Their approximation to Catholicism began during the period of King João III after their paramount leader João da Cruz was converted. The other community comprised the Saint Thomas Christians, called ‘mountain Christians’ by the Portuguese owing to their distribution in the territory’s interior. This group was made up of merchants and large agricultural landholders, with high social rank on a par with the Brahmins.
In their structure and implantation, Kerala’s Indo-Portuguese churches show an unusual tendency to be situated in the middle of a court enclosed by walls and away from village centers. This clearly deviates from traditions governing the location of European and Portuguese churches. Their architectural structures tend to play a role in sacralising the territory, above all functioning as an element meant to structure the entire surrounding landscape, in line with what occurs in Hindu temples. Inside the court are chapels or other buildings meant to support religious life, such as the parish house or school. The open space retains a strictly religious and sacred character and is used to hold ritual processions around the church.
To enhance that processional rituality, the courtyard is also marked by the presence of a large composition comprising a high cross standing on an ashlar base with classical mouldings and small columns backed onto the central body. In their form and meaning such crosses stem from an architectural tradition of Malabar’s Syrian Christians, where the existence of large granite crosses with bas-reliefs influenced by Hindu aesthetics predating the Portuguese arrival was already observed.
The architectural program and form of these churches was in the first phase characterized by a model of Mannerist references, with the façade divided into three vertical sections and horizontally into various levels marked by strong moulding work. As a typological variant, we find façade examples with a side tower, indicating the persistence of an old late-Manueline model which will have disappeared when the markedly classical and Mannerist styles were disseminated.
In this model, the interior presents a spatial structure comprising a single rectangular nave with a round arch opening to the chancel. Next to the main façade is a wooden choir borne in some cases by two columns.
The façades of these churches indicate a certain autonomy in relation to religious architecture elsewhere in India. They were endowed with a strongly flexible accentuation via the introduction of pilasters, columns, pediments, friezes and pinnacles. Above all, they were marked by the systematic use of twin Corinthian columns, something not found in other parts of India. This decorative accentuation is especially revealed in churches of the Saint Thomas Christians, where the façades are covered with bas-reliefs in an iconographic arrangement wherein Christian cosmology is joined to an Indian cultural background. In such cases the façades often have side panels with exotic dragons, a clear reference to the myth of Vritra and the regenerative power of the primordial waters.
As regards the community of Saint Thomas Christians, this model also manifests a significant variant with respect to the chancel’s structure. While in Macua churches the chancel has a wooden roof lower than the nave, in line with Portuguese traditions, the Saint Thomas Christians’ churches are marked by a high towered body emphasising the chancel, with strong affinities to the Indian temple and exalting the sancto sanctorum.
In the late 16th century this model began to evolve towards a profoundly original typology. The three façade sections were expanded to five, with the church front becoming markedly triangular. This enlargement accompanied the formation of galleries along the side façades which meet the two side sections of the main façade. The two-level development with ground-floor gallery and upper-floor veranda opens the churches’ side façades to the surrounding courtyard, enabling a new experience of the whole and multiplying processional routes around the building, in line with the values of Hindu sacred space.
In another register, by creating a protective air reservoir inside the church, these galleries reveal a clear adjustment to the hot and humid climate, endowing this church model with clearly tropical features.
The flexible originality of this solution, where façade and floor-plan combine coherently with the galleries, along with the sophisticated adjustment to the values of Indian architecture and spirituality, confer special meaning on this church model in the history of Indo-Portuguese architecture and in the context of the so-called colonial architectures.
Helder Carita
Ceylon/Sri Lanka
The island of Ceylon is nowadays marked by the presence of a large number of churches scattered mainly along the coast and attesting to the intense Portuguese evangelising activity on this island in the 16th and 17th centuries. Most of these churches were subject to major renovations over the centuries, losing their original features. But close observation can still detect architectural features and structures that confirm a clear Portuguese influence subjacent to a new formal and decorative lexicon introduced from the 19th century on.
Except for Mannar Island, where in 1560 the Jesuits began a mission alongside the community of fishermen (Paravas), evangelisation of Ceylon in the 16th century was the sole responsibility of the Franciscans.
In 1552 the Franciscan friar João Noé wrote to King João III to report the construction of only five churches. But the process gained new impetus toward the end of the century, in a clearly Portuguese-dominated geopolitical context. In 1610 the commissary-general of the Franciscans in Ceylon, Friar Francisco Negrão, sent a report to Rome referring to the existence of 31 churches affiliated with the Franciscans.
On the initiative of Jerónimo de Azevedo, from the early 17th century on the island was opened to other orders, not just the Jesuits but also the Dominicans and Augustinians. His great sympathy for the Jesuits played no small part in this process, leading him in 1604 to acquire land in the city of Colombo to build a college for that order. Also in the wake of that opening, the following year saw the arrival of the Dominicans in Ceylon, followed the next year by the Augustinians. The former were assigned the territories of Sabaragamuwa and Dois Korales, and the latter the territory of Quatro Korales. As for the Franciscans and Jesuits, the former were mainly distributed along the coastline from Colombo to Galle, while the latter’s communities were installed from Colombo northward to Jaffna.
The process of forming this veritable network of churches was studied by Félix Lopes and more recently by Vito Perniola. But writers from earlier periods such as Paulo da Trindade and Fernão de Queiroz supply us in their precious texts with information about the construction of those churches during the first half of the 17th century.
On 11 May 1656 António de Sousa Coutinho signed surrender terms for the city of Colombo; two years later Dutch troops invaded Mannar and captured the fort of Jaffna, thus putting an end to the Portuguese presence in the region.
The Dutch occupation of Ceylon acted as a weighty agent of destruction of the Portuguese-built religious heritage throughout the island. Churches were closed and the altars, retables and images removed from their interiors. A campaign to convince the population to convert to Protestantism began, but was not very successful. The native Christian communities held fast to their Catholicism. To that end, especially important were the actions of missions undertaken by Oratorian fathers from Goa in the late 17th century. In a more or less clandestine manner they provided religious assistance to those communities, ensuring survival of the architectural and building traditions developed by the Portuguese in the Orient.
While historical and documental study regarding the formation of Ceylon’s churches allows us to verify that the current 19th century churches generally correspond to Portuguese foundations, the study of those churches’ architecture highlights the survival of Indo-Portuguese influences. In the context of those influences, one element stands out concerning spatial organisation, characterised by a walled yard with the church placed at its centre. The positions in that courtyard of the parish house and (less systematically) a school building, are closely related to that of the church.
The courtyard, set apart from its urban neighbours, was strictly religious and sacred and was used to hold ritual processions around the church. Particularly meaningful is that such spatial arrangements clearly resembled the structures of churches in southern India. The work of Philippus Baldeus allows us to prove with all certainty that these spaces were defined in the churches built during the period of Portuguese influence. Besides a thorough survey of churches pertaining to the Jaffna kingdom, Baldeus provides several notes and observations about the parish houses and schools that were fundamental elements of such church precincts.
Another Portuguese-influenced architectural feature is revealed in the systematic tendency to form galleries along the churches’ side façades, likewise found in Indo-Portuguese churches in Malabar. These galleries are coherently arranged in the floor-plans and elevations and reflected in the composition and design of the façade. The latter is marked by a sequence of five doors; the three central ones correspond to the church nave and the side ones to the galleries. This church typology, with five-sectioned façade and side galleries, along with the courtyard structures, thereby seems to indicate the continuation of a typology tried by the Portuguese in both southern India and Ceylon.
As regards their architectural programme, the interiors of Ceylon’s churches have a high choir situated next to the main entrance, forming a wooden floor supported by two columns. The high choir corresponds to a liturgical reform disseminated in Portugal starting in the early 16th century. Its effect on the organisation of architectural space endowed Portuguese churches with specific features that distance them from both Italian and Spanish churches from the same period, features we find in Ceylon in the later programmes of 19th century churches. Note also that by forming an interior floor level, the high choir also tended to result in a rather unusual façade design. With light provided by three windows or oculi, the high choir is reflected in the façade composition by the formation of a floor emphasised by large frames and architraves; this characterises the architecture of most 19th century churches in Ceylon.
Besides these programmatic and typological elements, more detailed examination of this heritage also reveals the occasional survival of churches with architectural structures dating back to the Portuguese period. Examples include a few churches located in the area of Jaffna and Mannar, whose peripheral situation vis-à-vis major urban centres such as Colombo resulted in better preservation of their architectural structures. Standing out in this group is the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption of Batecota, with its large interior and wooden roof, divided into three naves separated by thick Tuscan columns supporting large round arches. At the end of the central nave stands the typical crossing arch linking to the chancel.
This three-nave structure is repeated in the ruins of the Church of the Holy Trinity of Changame on the outskirts of Jaffna. The façade is entirely gone, but the body of the church maintains a three-naved architectural programme, with the central nave marked by column bases recognisable on the church’s floor. The chancel has a typical triumphal arch in the tradition of Portuguese period churches.
The spatial arrangements of two other examples, Saint Cajetan’s Church of Marisankoodal in Jaffna and the Holy Christ Church of Olaithodurai in Mannar, indicate the dissemination of this three-nave church typology in northern Ceylon. The central nave in both is separated from the side aisles by a succession of wooden columns, forming at ceiling level a structure of rafters connecting the whole group.
Also at Saint Cajetan’s Church of Marisankoodal, the side façades open to the exterior via large galleries. Confirming the age of those galleries, the church’s interior walls show a stone structure visible on the inside of the façade, which was given a new adornment in the 19th century. Another example of an old architectural structure is Saint Thomas’s Church on Kayts Island, where the façade interiors show a structure we can date to the 17th century, while the exterior is marked by the presence of lateral galleries with Tuscan columns. The age of these galleries is emphasised, given that the main façade’s decoration presents Corinthian pilasters and columns in a classic Italianate arrangement, while the gallery columns remain in the Tuscan order, indicating an older aesthetic reference associated to Portugueseinfluenced 17th century churches. Lastly, in the Colombo area we can mention the small Saint Anne’s Church of Nawagamuwa, which has an interesting narthex with three round arches in the Franciscan tradition, and lateral galleries along the side façades.
In sum, Ceylon’s Catholic churches altogether reveal a persistence of architectural elements and typologies of Portuguese tradition which have survived to the major reforms undertaken in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Helder Carita
Housing (Malabar/Kerala)
Portuguese construction customs using stone and lime mortars and tile roofs would have a strong impact on the construction and structure of traditional houses in Kerala.
Before the Portuguese arrived, the traditional Kerala house was characterized by a totally wooden structure with thatched roof; only religious buildings were built of more lasting materials. This was an architecture of wood, which nevertheless demonstrated a sophisticated carpentry tradition linked to the abundant supply of very durable hardwoods. The single-storey house structure rested on a large base that served as foundation. The common house with just one rectangular body was distinct from the house of the upper classes, which had a more complex program in which various bodies were arranged around a central patio.
The Portuguese influence was gradually manifested through the use of stone and lime mortars in building, cheaper and better able to resist the humid climate marked by heavy rainfall during the monsoon season. The rural house remained single-storey, even though the building materials changed. But in urban areas we see the progressive adoption of a two-storey building of European tradition, with services on the ground floor and living spaces on the upper floor.
Regarding the urban building model, the oldest houses in Kochi’s historic core manifest an interesting variation on the two-storey building typology, with simple inset window bays organizing the distributive program from the back, moving away from the Portuguese model. Nearly opposite the main façade, the back opens onto a patio/garden via large verandas with wooden railings and vertical supports. As the main living space, this veranda acts as a structural element for the distributive program, linking various interior rooms. The new relationship established by the veranda with the interior program means that these houses constitute a new typology that assimilates climate conditions and native cultural input.
This typology’s origin and formation dates back to the 17th century, as confirmed by the text of Gautier Schouten. His description of the city of Kochi indicates that most Portuguese built houses were characterized by pleasant verandas overlooking the gardens at the back.
But it is in rural areas on Kochi’s outskirts and in Kerala’s interior that we find a typology with more original features and revealing deeper cultural interaction. This model evolved in progressive stages until it acquired a stable structure characterized by a rectangular two-floor body and large hip roof covering the whole surface. A broad veranda runs along the full width of the façade’s upper level, resting on a ground-floor gallery of arches or columns.
This typology’s originality is revealed in its interior program, quite distinct from any European model. The building structure comprises two concentric rectangles: a larger one corresponding to the exterior verandas and galleries, and a second smaller interior one corresponding to the dwelling as such. All circulation moves on the periphery, through the verandas and gallery, with the latter providing shade and serving as a fresh air reservoir. On the upper floor the long and wide columned veranda is arranged like a large living room.
In its relationship with traditional architecture, this structure stems from the house of the poorer Shudra groups, with an interior core of living space surrounded by a sun-protecting gallery. The changes introduced in this model essentially involve the shift from one-floor to two-floor house and the fact that the veranda space has acquired a daily usage turned to the exterior, distancing itself from Indian domestic privacy traditions.
The stairs to the upper floor are indicative of the age of this typology’s formulation. They remain on the outside, radically different from the models of large 18th century Goan houses, whose stairways were included in the internal spatial distribution program.
In terms of built heritage, this house model is represented in an extensive production of parish houses which, unlike in Goa, adopted an almost mansion-type model. This option seems linked the high status of priests, especially in the communities of Saint Thomas Christians, where they were lordly figures with legal and administrative duties.
The abundant documentation regarding the parish houses’ construction, in some cases containing descriptions of their interior structures, has enabled verification that the formative period for this model was in the late 16th century and early 17th century.
An example is the construction process for the parish house of the Arthunkal Mission, which notably portrays that house typology. It is a building with two divisions and a veranda acting as salon. The essential lines show the fundamental features of this colonial house model as formulated in the early 17th century. ‘Room’ gives way to ‘veranda’ as the main element organizing its interior program. The latter becomes the major space on which the whole spatial program hinges, the main area now used for social interaction and representation.
The autonomy of this tropical houses model with verandas compared to the civil architecture of Goa, where its formation appeared as a later phenomenon, raises the possibility that the early models from southern India may have influenced the Goan civil architecture model.