lly 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.

[Illustration: Quadra Street Cemetery.]

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.

Some four years ago, I had a marble headstone put on her grave, which
was enclosed with a fence, and last fall I saw it there although
buried in weeds. A few weeks ago a lady friend asked me if my
mother's name was Jane; for that she had, in walking through the
cemetery, come across a stone which must have been hers. I went up to
investigate, and after some hours' search found the stone, but the
enclosure was gone, and I had a time locating t