With its pale yellow and white façade and prominent dome, St James Church is a small but significant patch of tranquillity amidst the bustle of Kashmere Gate. It’s not the largest or most impressive of Delhi’s Anglican churches – I think the Cathedral Church of the Redemption is more imposing – but it’s by far the most historic.

St James stands in an area which was, during the Mughal period, home to the havelis or mansions of Shahjahanabad’s nobility. When Delhi fell to the East India Company’s troops in the early 1800’s, many of the British settled here, often rebuilding old havelis to suit their tastes. David Ochterlony, the Resident of Delhi from 1803 onwards, also bought a plot of land in the Kashmere Gate area and established a market called Naseerabad on it (Ochterlony’s Indian title was Naseer-ud-daulah). After Ochterlony’s death, the British got rid of the market and set up a cantonment, but not for long: the land was sold off to a half-British, half-Indian soldier called James Skinner, who used it to build a church: St James. The church was consecrated in 1838, and Skinner got baptised in it at the same time.

By the time the Mutiny arose, less than twenty years later, St James Church had become an important – and obvious – symbol of the British presence in Delhi. Mobs attacked the church, looting it and carrying off whatever they could (including pews). An impressive memorial to the former Resident, William Fraser, used to stand in front of the church building. This was smashed by crowds that wanted to avenge the execution, twenty years earlier, of Shahabuddin, Fraser’s assassin.

Incidentally, though the Mutiny was primarily socio-political and socio-economic in nature, religious sentiment did play a minor part, mainly fuelled by fanatics. This wasn’t really surprising, since the rulers were predominantly Christian, and the ruled predominantly Hindu, Muslim or Sikh. Caught between the two forces were a handful of Indian Christians like Dr Chamanlal and the mathematician Master Ramchander, who faced the resentment of Indians and the contempt of the British. There’s a story about Master Ramchander, who, escaping from an irate mob, bumped into a British officer astride a horse. When the officer tried to hit out at the mathematician, Ramchander protested, saying that he was a Christian. The officer’s response was cutting: "So what? You’re still as black as jet!"

Today, St James is much quieter – but still interesting church. You’re unlikely to find it open on a weekday, so try to time your visit for a Sunday. If you’d like to get a glimpse of the inside of the church, you might just want to attend a mass and stick around a bit after service is over. Whatever time you go, do look out for the ornately carved white marble tombstones of the Skinner family, all within an enclosure fenced in wrought iron, just outside the main door.

Delhi’s oldest church is a quiet, yellow-and-white building near the historic Kashmiri Gate. St James’ Church is a lovely old monument, recently restored by conservation architects. And it’s not just the building that’s interesting - there are many other churches across India that are as (if not more) historic, beautiful, and famous. What sets St James’ apart is the colourful story of the man who built it.

Colonel James H Skinner, CB, (1778-1841) was the illegitimate son of a Scottish officer, Lieutenant Colonel Hercules Skinner and a Rajput woman. James Skinner worked as a printer’s apprentice and at a law firm before finally managing to do what he really wanted - join the army. The British Indian Army sniffed deprecatingly at Skinner’s less-than-immaculate antecedents and rejected him, but Skinner managed to get into the French forces in India and served as an ensign for 8 years.

During his stint with the French, Skinner was badly wounded at the Battle of Uniara. Lying close to death, he made a vow that if he were to survive, he would build a church in gratitude to God. Eventually rescued by a poor low-caste old woman (whom he generously rewarded later), Skinner went on to create a cavalry corps of irregulars, known as Sikandar Sahib’s Yellow Boys (they went into battle clothed partly in yellow). The corps, which was officially named the 1st Duke of York’s own Lancers, was more commonly known as Skinner’s Horse and went on to become easily the finest cavalry regiment in the Indian Army. After Independence, it was retained as the 1st Horse Regiment.

The building of St James’ Church, a votive undertaking that owed its origin to Skinner’s near-death experience at Uniara, cost all of £20,000. The church, topped by a dome, is built in the classical design of a Greek cross plan, with porticoes on three arms of the cross. Outside, a wide gravel pathway shaded by trees leads past the cemetery (many tombstones here are of the Skinner family) to the church. Inside, the church is dominated by a pair of lovely stained-glass windows, rows of mango wood pews, and 19th-century fixtures. It’s all very colonial, and as you walk through the church, you’ll actually be walking over Skinner’s grave - he specifically instructed that he be buried under the floor.

That may sound like the ultimate in humility, but it was fairly uncharacteristic of Skinner, who was, if anything, pretty sure of his own importance. Interestingly enough, Skinner was not "officially" a Christian until 1836, when St James’ was consecrated. He was baptised when the church was consecrated. For the occasion of the consecration, the bishop of Calcutta had sent Skinner a beautifully embroidered altar cloth with the letters IHS (a contraction of Iesus Hominum Salvator - "Jesus Saviour of Men" on it. Skinner, in a gentle aside to the Bishop of Calcutta, said, "Your tailor’s made a mistake, you know. My initials are JHS, not IHS".