On the southern coast of England, just across Portsmouth Harbor, beyond a quiet stretch of water where ships enter and exit day and night, lies a small cemetery. Most visitors know nothing of it; yet in this land, Ottoman sailors who came from a homeland thousands of kilometers away are buried. In one corner of Clayhall Royal Naval Cemetery lies the Turkish Naval Cemetery. Although commonly referred to among the people as "the cemetery in Portsmouth," the cemetery is technically within the borders of Gosport, the district on the opposite shore of Portsmouth. This distinction may seem like a minor geographical detail, but it is important for understanding where the story begins: two shores, two faces of the same harbor, and a silent bond stretching across more than a hundred and fifty years.
An unexpected cemetery: between Gosport and Portsmouth
Portsmouth was one of the most important naval bases of England in the nineteenth century; the shipyards, hospitals, and training facilities of the Royal Navy were concentrated here. Gosport, on the opposite shore of the harbor, was an integral part of this naval infrastructure; institutions like the Haslar Naval Hospital were located here, and many foreign sailors came and went to this region for training or medical treatment. The presence of traces of Ottoman sailors in this region was therefore not a coincidence but the natural result of the period's maritime diplomacy and technical cooperation. The Turkish Naval Cemetery section visitors encounter today at Clayhall Royal Naval Cemetery, with its crescent and star motifs, its markers reflecting the Ottoman grave tradition, creates a distinctive corner among the graves of English sailors. For the visitor, this is an unexpected encounter: the fact that sons and daughters of an empire thousands of kilometers away have found their eternal resting place in this quiet corner of England.
Why were Ottoman ships in England
The roots of this story stretch back to the middle of the nineteenth century, during the reign of Sultan Abdülmecid, to the close military and technical relations the Ottoman State established with the West, particularly with England. Throughout the 1850s, the Ottoman navy, as part of its modernization efforts, was in close contact with English shipyards and naval institutions. Ships visited English ports for technical maintenance, repair, and training; personnel had the opportunity to become closely acquainted with the era's most advanced maritime technologies and practices. These visits were not confined to a single voyage or a single year; they were part of a network of relations spanning a decade, repeated at different times. The strengthening of Ottoman-English alliance during and after the Crimean War intensified these naval contacts. The bases in and around Portsmouth became among the ports that Ottoman sailors were familiar with, ports where they had anchored repeatedly.
Cholera and losses
But the time spent in these distant lands was not always limited to training and technical advancement. The nineteenth century was a period when cholera epidemics frequently appeared in Europe's major port cities; crowded ships and ports created a fertile ground for such diseases to spread rapidly. Sources indicate that a significant portion of the Ottoman sailors who lost their lives in England succumbed to these epidemic diseases, particularly cholera. Losing one's life far from home, away from family and familiar lands, in the grip of an epidemic was one of the most painful forms of dying abroad for sailors of that era. These losses were the traces of a quiet tragedy caused not by accidents or conflicts but by disease; yet they were also evidence of how close and intense the relationship between the two countries was, since these sailors were not ordinary visitors but were present on these lands for extended duty and training.
The story of the graves and the transfer at the century's beginning
Ottoman sailors who lost their lives were buried where they died, on English soil. Their first graves were in cemetery areas attached to the Haslar Naval Hospital; this hospital, as one of the era's leading naval health institutions, served both English and foreign sailors. But as years passed, a need arose to commemorate these scattered graves in a more permanent and orderly manner. Around 1900, the graves at Haslar were transferred to a special section within what is today Clayhall Royal Naval Cemetery. This transfer rescued the memory of the sailors from scattered locations and placed them under one roof, honoring them in the form of a proper cemetery. Thus the Turkish Naval Cemetery, in the form we know it today, has maintained its presence in this corner for more than a century; the headstones, with their markings, stand as silent witnesses to a distant past.
Today: 18 March commemorations and visiting this trace
Today the Turkish Naval Cemetery is not a forgotten corner but the center of a living tradition of commemoration. Every year on March 18, ceremonies organized by Turkey's London Embassy commemorate the sailors buried here; wreaths are laid, honors are paid, and this historical bond between the two nations is remembered anew. The choice of March 18 as the date aligns with the distinct meaning it carries in Turkish history, adding symbolic depth to the commemoration. These ceremonies are not merely an expression of respect for the past but also a vivid reminder of Ottoman-English relations, of how two peoples could touch one another even in distant geographies.
This stop in the "Turkish Traces in the World" series is often outside the usual tourist routes, yet equally meaningful. For those visiting Portsmouth or Gosport, those interested in maritime history or tracing the roots of their heritage, this quiet corner in Clayhall Royal Naval Cemetery offers concrete evidence that the bond between two nations stretches back more than a hundred and fifty years. The story of people who died so far from home, on this distant shore, is still remembered, still honored with flowers, and still tells visitors something: the story of exile, friendship, and a trace that endures beyond time. The silent traces of the Ottomans in Europe are not limited to Gosport; a forgotten Ottoman grave in Osnabrück, Germany whispers a similar story in those lands as well.
