—Thomas Gray.
I must first apologize for altering two words in this quotation from this most beautiful poem that caused the celebrated General Wolfe to say that he would rather be the author of it than have taken Quebec.
I am moved to write these lines by the fact that these bones require protecting from the vandalism of certain persons unknown, also I have been approached by pioneers several times to write about this desecration of the last resting-place of our pioneers.
It was in 1859 or early ’60 that the Quadra Street Cemetery was opened, all the bones from the cemetery on Johnson and Douglas Streets being exhumed and carried to Quadra Street in carts. I have stood several times and watched the operation of digging up and carting away of the remains from the first cemetery. It was situated on the corner of Johnson and Douglas Streets, the brick building on the south-west corner being built on the site, and it must have extended into the streets also, as some years later skeletons were found by workmen digging trenches for water pipes. There were many naval men buried there, and the dates on some of the headboards and stones in Quadra Street Cemetery show an earlier date than the opening of it, there being two burials from war vessels, one in 1846, H. M. S. Cormorant, and one in 1852. These early dates show that Her Majesty’s vessels were in Esquimalt at that time. Naval men and Hudson’s Bay Company’s employees were the large majority of those buried in the first cemetery. As a boy, I had a great weakness for funerals, and living only a block from Quadra Street, I attended scores in my day. I naturally liked the naval funerals best, for there were soldiers and sailors, and bands of music, with three volleys over the grave, so I missed few. The funerals came from Esquimalt, generally by water, in large boats propelled by oars, and landed at the Hudson’s Bay Company’s wharf.
By the inscriptions, a large majority were young men and sailors, and many were the result of accidents in Esquimalt harbor by drowning.
I well remember the funeral of Captain Bull, of H. M. surveying ship Plumper, who died at the age of twenty-seven years, the coffin being fastened to a gun carriage and pulled by bluejackets. The state of Victoria’s streets at that time was such that it required a deal of power to propel any vehicle, and especially was this the case with Quadra Street. I have often seen a funeral come to a dead standstill and the hearse dug out of the mud, as also teams loaded with stones for monuments in the cemetery.
We will suppose the hearse has been dug out, and in the cemetery near the grave, in many cases men might be seen bailing out the grave, one below and one on top; especially was this the case with the Roman Catholic ground. And I have known when it was necessary to hold the coffin down in the water with shovels or have a man get down and stand on the coffin until enough soil was thrown on it to keep it down. What must the friends have thought at this time, as the dirty water was forcing its way into the coffin? In the majority of burials there was no grave-case, which helped to make matters worse.
I have always paid periodical visits to this cemetery, the chief reason being that my mother was buried there when I was fifteen years old. She expressed a wish to be carried to her grave instead of being taken in a hearse, and it was the first instance I can remember in Victoria, although it may have been done earlier.
Both Bishops Cridge and Garrett, the clergymen who conducted the burial services over her, are alive to-day.