Gravesites of Fathers of Confederation

I had come back from a trip of a lifetime to Kenya in March 2016 that left a travel hangover bigger than my will. I needed a hair of the dog to aid my re-entry into New Brunswick life and to find a fitting way to celebrate Canada’s 150th that was all mine. However, with no vacation time left after using it up on the Mysterious continent, I needed to travel local.

I researched historic places buildings, national and provincial parks, oddities and National Historic Sites and Monuments, NB around my home accessible within a couple of hours drive that I could visit on the weekends, take some picture and maybe write a travel piece. My interest was piqued by a designated historic church on Broad Road in Oromocto, NB. I traveled daily on this road to work at CFB Gagetown , and it was not a hardship to stop and have a look at the historically significant building.

I pulled into the parking lot of the unassuming cinder block house of worship, the sign establishing it as St. Johns Anglican church of Canada. In a few seconds I had snapped all the pictures I needed of its architecture; and historical plaques which left me underwhelmed.

I would definitely call myself a tombstone tourist so the headstones at the back of the building beckoned me to come stroll around the yard. The biggest dedication was in the second row, made of white marble. It was  weather-beaten and dirt encrusted; A concrete base platform for a taller square base – topped with a cross.  A stately  bronzed red coloured plaque lay in front of the final resting place of this important soul. I had to get closer, who garnered such a marker?. It read;

Father of Confederation

Robert Duncan Wilmot 1809-1891

A delegate to the inter colonial conference of London (1866-1807) of which the base was laid for the federal union of the British North American Provinces in a new nation.

This grave is marked by the Government of Canada.

My mouth hung open,  here in my own back yard was a  bread crumb just waiting to be followed on a treasure hunt.  The final resting places of the entire band of fathers of confederation ready to be discovered. I suddenly felt ashamed, other than Sir John A MacDonald, I couldn’t think of any others, who were they? where are they buried? I had some research to do. This was my way to honour Canada’s 150th

Several hours of clicking at the key board I had compiled a list of the FOC’s ( fathers of confederation) and I had a better understanding of their lives and roll in Confederation. However,  I found out very little about their funerals and where they were laid to rest. I have visited the graves of may famous and infamous people;  Billy the Kid, Elvis Presley, Laura Secord, Northern Dancer, with names and dates they wouldn’t hide from me long.

One by one they emerge, I organized them by province rubbing my hands together I check the calendar to note when my first opportunity to adding to my collection might arise. There were several within a couple of hours of my home but I must wait till I have all 36 accounted for; I don’t want to have to make duplicate trips to areas because I missed one.  Several day later. I can’t control myself any longer; I find myself parked on a gravel pull off beside the walking path entrances gate of Fern hill Cemetery in Saint John.

I shoulder by back pack and proceed into this place of forever rest. This is a vast burial ground with well laid out walk ways and roads branching in several directions. I follow my instinct, I’m not going to find a person buried in 1873 with graves from 1980. I head towards the old part, scanning the headstones for dates; 1940’s, 1920’s 1902 getting closer.  A hike up a rolling mount, and trot down the other side. This section isn’t right, the granite headstones here are too fresh “1990’s  I’ve come too far. I turn back up the hill and go left. A young man sits in a parked sedan, he’s been there since I arrived over half hour now, it strikes me as odd. I see no one around that he is waiting for. I immediately think of some illicit activities he is partaking in. It’s not a place I would rendezvous with a new love.

The sun is going down and my time is running out. I have to find the interns I seek. “1882 I am so very close.” I mumble to myself.  I zone in on the plaque on the ground.

William Stevens 1814-1873, with the same dedication by the Government of Canada.  I retrieve my camera from my back pack and a Molson Canadian beer, I have earmarked for the occasion. Pulling the tab back, wondering about the appropriateness of lifting a pint in cheers at his graveside but its my way of saying  “thank you” for his work.

My acknowledgment to Mr Stevens is brief, I am still on the hunt-this Graveyard holds a second “Father” whom must be located.  23 years separate their deaths but only eight rows of real estate lies between William Stevens plot and Samuel Leonard Tilley  1818-1896. I go through the ritual again of taking a picture and lifting a can.

The sun has faded and as much as I like searching around looking for dead people, I know JOHN A. MUNROE, A murder is buried here some where, but I don’t want to be here at dusk, it is all I can do today.

My list at home gets two ay.more check marks I’m down to 33. With each piece of information I learn, the more complicate my quest becomes. Long before my realization of these gentlemen  and their value to our nation, the government of Canada had seen to it that they are visibly remembered.  I am sincerely thankful I am not hunting down long forgotten unmarked graves.  For those without a fondness for traipsing  around the forever dead, “plaques” of commemoration can be located in some publicly displayed location in most of their home towns.

I take a short drive to Gage town to see the home of Samuel Tilley, this gives me another National Historic Site to check off my list and a bit of humanity to go along with the person in the grave. I have to get back to the work of finding my Canadian Heroes and leave the tourist activities behind.

Charles Fisher 1808-1868, is next up, he too has a commemorative plaque dedicated to him in downtown Fredericton, as seen above however, he was laid to rest Forest Hill Cemetery in Fredericton and it is a mere 20 minutes from my home. There are some very opulent grave markers here and some very old stones; Obelisk, columns, monuments, table topper made of granite sandstone, marble, slate. I have learned a lot more about cemetery head stone dedications than I really wanted to. Thankfully, within 15 minutes of of my arrival I find the plaque I’m looking for.

  I am on my way to a high school reunion in Cape Breton and so I will be able to connect with three more  FOC’s  as I cross to Nova Scotia.  Amherst, the border town between New Brunswick and Nova Scotia has a proud political heritage.

Carver Kings TV show enthusiasts will want to see a carved tree stump slash totem pole with the faces of McCully, Dickey , Tupper displayed along the side of Victoria road in the down town Amherst. Done by Bruce Hebert

The old Dominion Public Building stands at 98 Victoria Street East, Amherst  Reminds us of their famous residence with commemorative plaques dedicated to each on its front of the building.

It will have to do as I am in a hurry.   I must get to the home. One of my school mates and I. are getting together to have a cocktail and dress before the evenings events. I will find the grave yard another day. Today is for the living I got to see many friends I haven’t seen in thirty years.  We had a table with 3 candles burning for the three class mates that had passed away and could not be with us.  Remembering the dead seems to be aligning with me where ever I went, and the impact of knowing we are eternally dead is striking me daily. Increasing my desire to see and do more.

It pours rain on my drive home but I must stop in Truro.  The Robie Street Cemetery is centrally located in the busy heart of the town not far from Highway 102 to linking Halifax to the Trans-Canada.

My first opinion is I should be able to conquer it quickly. Its medium-sized, crowded  but has unobstructed views.  The whole grave yard was getting some much need attention, new grass was being seeded. Many of the graves are keeled over or broken.  Characteristic of old yards I had been to before but its saddens me to see the neglect and the forgotten. I have to get out of the truck and walk the grounds. Worn paths separate lots and it doesn’t seem like a place to drive around.  One area has been designated a heritage property, I focus my attention in this area.

An hour later with squishy shoes and matted hair, I was literally ready to give up. I finally decided my normal scan for a plaque was not going to work.  I approached it like a word search going row by row ” perhaps not all father of Confederation garnered a plaque, perhaps graves got lost or where just left unmarked.” I struggle to be respectful hopping over some and staying close to the bottom of others. Bending down and actually reading the names and dates that I could make out for this last walk though.

I  must have passed it several times but alas. I found it.  A bit sunken and off kilter the obelisk inscription unreadable. The plaque is well hidden; flanked by two stone slab toppers one for Mr and Mrs Adam George Archibald. His is polished granite topped hers not so ornate. I take my pictures, survey the landscape one more time to note the location and then depart to my truck.

Continued on my way home, the delay in finding Mr. Archibald jeopardized getting much time at Amherst cemetery. The rain drenched hard so when I drew within a kilometer of the town, I decided to continue on and exited at Sackville for Dorchester. The 106 was a road I hadn’t driven on before and if the weather settled, there were two other points of interest along this stretch of road to see.  The worlds Largest Sand Piper, while not a national historic site, it is an oddity and of interest to me.

and National Historic site Monument-Lefebvre and Acadian culture pilgrimage stop.

My main goal was buried somewhere between Acadia and the sand-piper. I only noticed one graveyard and it was below the Dorchester Penitentiary.  I drove by it initially  but turned back around when no more grave yards presented themselves.

Parked on the shoulder below the Correctional Services sign.  I felt a strange sense of guilt come over me. I was probably being watched on a monitor as a potential get away vehicle in prison break. The uneasiness increased as I walked between the first row of small graves. Stopping, I couldn’t go on…. this  was creepy, it felt all wrong. A father of Confederation would not be buried here with these graves…… of dead inmates perhaps.  Pivoting around I made a dash for my truck. I would need to find Edward Chandler and Robert Dickey on another Nova Scotia Trip.

The next weekend laid out new agendas. According to my list John Mercer Johnson was interned at Saint Paul’s Anglican church in Chatham part of the greater city Miramichi so that is the next destination.

I love Mirimachi the first time I made a journey here I did so because it was a sunny  mild spring like day in Fredericton. I had been creeping on birding NB  website, and saw fellow birders had posted pictures of ducks, they had started to return to the north shores and I wanted get a photography fix; I was still feeling the jitters of withdrawals from the wildlife abundance of my Kenyan safari.

The hint of spring in Fredericton, did not translate into the same kind of day on the Historic Water street district. Walking along the banks of the Mirimachi river. There was still snow on the ground, the wind was biting and the ice floes were hurling by on the fast paced break up current. I sat for a moment staring at the bronze statue of Francis Peabody sitting on a bench beside me. With no input from Francis I decided the pair of Mallards were the only crazy’s that should be outside. I drove home.

This time it was full bloom summer in Mirimachi. I had been in search of the riverfront location I had previously visited but I had made several incorrect turns and I was lost.  I stopped to ask a fella on the street if he could direct me to Saint Paul’s Anglican church.  He said he was not sure where that particular church was but If I “went straight for a bit, then turned right and followed that road for a bit” I would find a church. Happily and unexpectedly, It was the correct church.

It is not a large burial yard and so the red bronzed plaque  showed itself fairly quickly. I was getting good at this.  I had not needed to seek the help of the church yard registries yet.

With several good angles of Mr Johnson spot of rest.  I could go about my business of my second pursuit; National Historic Sites.    Beaubears Island Shipbuilding National Historic Site and Beaubears Island and nearby Wilsons Point together form Boishébert National Historic Site. A two in one deal; both at the same location. The  Museum guide was knowledgeable and lived the story of the islands settlers of the time period;  and had a hint of bitterness speaking of the plight of the Acadians’. A stable pontoon style water craft, took our group of four over to the Island for a hike among large white pines there are nesting eagles and a decent beach. There is a burial crypt of children of the owner that is haunting.

It wasn’t till I got home I realized  I had indeed missed an opportunity. An error in my research one website Find a Grave had Peter Mitchell as having been buried in a Montreal cemetery, when in fact he is buried in Miramichi and as I had hoped to avoid,  it would require another trip to find his grave.

A few more weeks and I dare another crack at Dorchester Rural Cemetery.  I was once told by a friend, “you only get one visit to a strangers grave” this statement was never explained to me but It was said with such resolve, that I to this day believe it to be some superstition to abide by. I made sure this time I had address and exact location for this graveyard before hitting the road. I see a road sign plaque beside the Chandler house so I stop for a look.

The Dorchester Rural Cemetery is serene place. Large mature trees give it a park like setting. It is not very wide but its depth goes back quiet a ways and you can drive in but getting turned around is not easy so I park on a path and walk about. I hear jays chirping and squirrels clicking, rays of sun filter through the tree canopy. I’m in no rush, this was a no surrender visit. I’m taking my time to check the names on a family plot. There are many old impressive graves here and the front portion is definitely at capacity. I focus my sixth scene trying to connect on some level with the dead and walk to the correct plot.  If a connection was made with Mr chandler, he was in no hurry leading me to him. Perhaps I was getting a tour of his current home, then the plaque was right under my foot.

I wondered how long it has been since he had a visitor?  He is the oldest I have met” sixty-seven years old at the time of confederation. Respecting my elder I snap my picture and pause another moment before turning away.  How long it will be till his next visitor? It wouldn’t be me according to the rule.  With the last father of Confederation uncovered in New Brunswick till I can get to back to Miramichi, a quick jaunt over to Aulac for Fort Beausejour – another National Historic Site and  I set my eyes on PEI for the next collection.  The heart beat of confederation.

I have to assume that everyone that was born raised, or lives on Prince Edward Island, can rhyme off the names of participants and particulars of the creating of the Dominion of Canada. The Confederation bridge linking them to the rest of Canada hammers home the important s of this joining to its residences.

I have only been to PEI  twice, once  as  an adult and once as a child.  I need to get the lay of the land before venturing too far so I stop at the tourist office on Borden-Carleton. .  A young lady behind the desk smiles and ask ” can I help you?”  “Yes” I reply. I pull out my travel play book and flip to the pages marked for PEI. ” I have an unusual request, I am searching for the graves of the Fathers of Confederation” I rotate my book so she can see the name  and cemeteries beside them. “I wonder if you can point me towards these grave yards please?”

The young ladies eyes widen, in what I assumed was fear and dread, but was actually surprise and joy. She just happens to be a history student at the University and is thrilled to help me.  She pulls out a book goes to the computer and prints off a map.  Then she refers to he book and scurrying about  continuing to chatters on about how her professor holds historical walk about and how I would love it.  Other tourist start lining up. I whisper to her, “perhaps you can help a few other first and clear the line up, my request is a bit lengthy, might take a while. I’m in no hurry”

She glances around slightly upset that she was going to have to be pulled away from such a fascinating question to help someone else get directions to Anne Of Green Gables home. With the back log of tourists tamed, she returns to me.  Referring to her computer screen she marks X’s at the locations on the map in front of her. I confirm we have them all named on my checklist. I thank her. She wishes me the best of luck and if I have time at the end of my trip to stop in and let her know how I made out.  I nod  “I will”.

I head towards Charlottetown. First stop Saint Peter’s Anglican.

A very small fenced yard,  I walk with purpose pulled towards the back my eyes don’t waver but I am dismayed to Find Mr Haviland’s headstone toppled over it will look horrible in my picture. The cross lay sinking in the earth behind. It is far to heavy for me to replace.

just one row farther back and to the left is his friend George Coles 1810-1875

literally at the stop light and across the street, I walk into the Peoples Cemetery.

This is by far the biggest grave yard  I have been in so far and there seems to be no rhyme or rhythm to the organization of this place. Old headstone beside new headstones.  They lay north south, east, and west. Its back to word search method start at the top and walk laterally, row to row. I try the right side first, half hour later I pounce on Andrew Archibald MacDonald

He is the first I have found that lived into the 20th century. His grave reflects a newer trend of polished granite, which was a break from the column and obelisk styles of white marble the others seem to be made of, or perhaps his stone was replaced in more modern times. I reflect to the disrepair of the stone of Mr Haviland..

I wonder around aimlessly for an hour. I can’t find Edward Whelan, perhaps a break from this site and returning with fresh eyes will help.  I decided to go to Sherwood I will find another two Fathers of Confederation there.

Sherwood is another park like setting. Well paved roads, mature trees and well-tended lawns and yes there seems to be a system here every one is laid in even rows, this place is loved. I park off the road a little on the grass but out-of-the-way should anyone need to drive by.  I walk in a northerly flow, the big old graves appear up a head.

A backhoe teeter-totter over uneven ground towards me, a load of dirt in the bucket as counter weight. It stops beside me and the drive shouts out a ” do I You need help?” .  I shout back ” I am looking for the two Fathers of Confederation that are buried Here” He turns shuts the diesel off and steps down to greet me.  Reaching a hand out , He says he is Chris.  An Aerospace Controller he works part-time for over 20 years as a loader driver digging graves. He knows this yard. I am only a few meters away  from Edward Palmer he walks me to the graveside.

snap my pictures and he guides me a half turn and a half-dozen strides to our left is, John Hamilton Grays, one of the two John Hamilton Grays that were part of the conferences.

Chris apologizes and says this part of the yard was recently leveled and re seeded. We chit-chat for a bit more. I tell him how I was struggling to find Edward Whelan in the Peoples cemetery the lay out was chaos perhaps he can help me find him. He apologizes again and says he doesn’t know much about other cemetery interns.  I should contact the Peoples cemetery  office.

Back to Peoples yard, energized from my success. I start at the opposite end this time. The office is closed with a number I can call for help. Scouring back and forth stone to stone,  looking front and back of each stone.  Heads and feet in every direction. An older gentlemen on a motorcycle parks and walks about looking for someone. I approach him and Introduce myself and ask if he is familiar with the yard? He says he comes infrequently, his grandfather is buried here he can’t find him either. He does indicate that we are in the Catholic part, the road divides the two denominations; protestant are on the other side. If I know Whelan Faith, I can narrow my search. The gentlemen wonders  off to a tree and sits under to eat a sandwich.

I steady on re-walking the areas I have already covered. I come across a women furiously gathering up past flowers and pulling weeds around a grave that says MOTHER. I leave her to her work. I am hungry and a muscle behind my shoulder-blade is screaming in pain.  I need a meal and a rest. I hate to abandon the search but my luck has run out today and Whelan doesn’t want me disturbing him.

Parking in a central location to Confederation tourist sites right in front of me is Brits Fish and Chips  and with a great deal of relieve, I plunk myself in a booth . The menu is a tad expensive for a cheap skate like me but I need a pint and bit before I faint.  My server insists I wouldn’t be disappointed so I commit to his recommendation, and express a “hurry” on the pint.  Once well satiated, I thank the proprietor and take his offered card.

I walk across the road, to Confederation ground zero, Province House National Historic Site. Unfortunately for me, its closed for restoration. I settle for a walk about the grounds and get some pictures. of the building and plaques.

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with the day waning, I drive up the main artery through the city and ask myself “So Kell, do you stay and try find Whelan tomorrow or head on the highway to Summerside?”   I had a minor temper tantrum trying to make a turn at a barricaded road, put up for the Prince Edward Island Marathon, and this change in travel direction made my decision for me. I was now on the highway to Summerside. Regretfully Edward Whelan would remain undiscovered by me this trip. At least I saw a plaque dedicated to him outside Province House.

The drive out of the city I see a sign to Prince Edward Island National Park. I push it aside another time I will have to visit. More tourist signs Green Gables, Cabot Beach Provincial Park. So much to see so little time. Finally Summerside.  After a hot bath i jot down some notes and its lights out. I awake to a rainy day and a chill in the air. I gr””ab a horrible coffee from the continental breakfast lounge and settle my bill. Pulling out my map, I ask the desk clerk “if I turn left out of the parking lot, will it bring me towards the Saint John Anglican Church?”  He agrees and I head out. It is only about 15 minutes away.  I initially drive by and have to circle back. The church is surrounded by graves even on the front lawn.  I assume the road was paved many years after this church and grave yard were founded.  I park in the small driveway. and begin my walk. The sun fights it way through the separating clouds just in time. Directly off the back of the chapel are four graves side by side a family grouping. Henry Pope is land marked in the middle.

My job here is completed minus Whelan.  I stop At the tourist Bureau and ask if “Stephanie is around?”  I think that was her name “she spoke to me yesterday” I add-on in case the name is wrong.  The women behind the desk said no she was off today and adds no more.  I thank her and head for the bridge to exit the Island.  Fort Gaspareaux is along this road but I need to go home I’m in pain and “next summer” I make a deal with myself.

My sore shoulder has impeded my progress for several weeks.  I had planned to go to Halifax but it hasn’t happened and now it is early Dec. I had booked a train trip to Montreal to visit a Friend weeks ago and as promised, I was taken to Mount Royal Cemetery. We pass huge homes of this impressive neighborhood leading  up to the gates of this National Historic site.

We drive in, this is a city of dead people its huge. At a Y juncture I say ” go right”  He asks me ” are you sure?” I smile back. and say “No.”  my gut is tell me it is correct. He Parks off to the side.Constant takes his dog Patch for a walk while I search.  I have shown him pictures of plaques on my memory card, he knows how to identify them and I have given him a list of names he is looking for; Alexander Tilloch Galt, Father of Confederation is the main reason we are here  Prime Minster John Joseph Caldwell Abbot is second and David Thompson is third should we come across them during our search.

This yard is on a grade upward so I get my workout in. I stop a guy wondering about and ask if he is a regular here does he know the cemetery? I explain who I am looking for. He expressed an interest and tells me  no he is not a regular, but he would also like to know where they are buried,  If I find them soon yell out to him.  I nod I will.

I see one right in front of me. I dash the road and jump the ditch. A very large monument is just the person I am looking for. His plaque is on his Tombstone as the ditch is directly in front of him.

I am delighted I call to Constant “I have found him”.  He comes to have a look. History isn’t his thing but he seems happy that I am happy. The other gentlemen now out of sight missed out.

We search a bit more and I am convinced important graves will be beside a road accessible to tourists. With this philosophy We also find Abbot

Not all Plaques are created equal. while roaming the various sections,  I took pictures of  every grave with a plaque; there were provincial dedications, military dedications, various noteworthy accomplishments markers  business entrepreneur; this place is full of well-known heroes famous people and possibly a few self proclaiming greats. I did not find David Thomas, he stayed hidden perhaps he is off working on the surveying of Lake of the Woods. It is getting dark and the temperature is dropping, ice is starting to catch on the pavement. I will leave the dead in their earthen world, as I need to get to the train station for my departure to New Brunswick. .

My last hurrah comes as my yearly trek to Cape Breton for the Christmas holiday. My new GPS, a wonderful  useful gift directs me to the Amherst Cemetery. I park on a side street and walk in. It’s a large well spaced sprawling yard, a few young saplings but mainly a field not a cozy place. It’s as deep and wide with many sections and a smattering of old and new graves not far from one another but well spaced in some places.  It is cold out but I know this drill now. Most grave yards have an original core and I am sure I can sniff it out.

I pick a strip right down the middle and glance left and right. I find a grouping of some old stones,  I don’t see a plaque so I keep walk by to the back of the yard.  It feels too far, so I turn back a little to the right of my original path.  This time I am facing the plaque. it strikes me as odd the plaque is beside the grave and not at the foot. Perhaps they didn’t know where the end of his grave was.

It has taken me roughly 6 months to document.15 of the 36 I was hoping to achieve. Not including  “Edward Whelan”  whom after much follow-up investigation, I discovered  I was misled by Find A Grave. He was actually buried in the Historic Roman Catholic Cemetery on Longworth Avenue Charlottetown PEI.

I leave to you a completed list of names and grave yards for others that many wish to follow the trail of Father of Confederation;

Cheers and happy travels from Maritime

Newfoundland and Labrador

Sir Frederic Bowker Terrington Carter

1919-1900

Mount Pleasant Cemetery

James Lane
St. John’s
Avalon Peninsula Census Division
Newfoundland and Labrador Canada

Ambrose Shea 1815-1905

Belvedere Roman Catholic Cemetery

Newtown Road
St. John’s
Avalon Peninsula Census Division
Newfoundland and Labrador Canada

Nova Scotia

Robert B.Dickey 1811-1903

Amherst Cemetery,

83 E Pleasant St, Amherst

NS B4H 1N2

Sir Adam George Archibald 1814-1892

Robie Street Cemetery
Also known as: Truro Cemetery

165 Robie Street
Truro
Colchester County
Nova Scotia Canada

Jonathan McCully 1809-1877

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Camp HIll Cemetery

600 Summer St,

Halifax, NS B3H 3A6

William Alexander Henry 1816-1888

Camp HIll Cemetery

600 Summer St,

Halifax, NS B3H 3A6

North Lot  8 # 00

Charles Tupper 1821-1915

Saint John’s Cemetery
Also known as: Saint Johns Anglican Cemetery

St. John’s Cemetery
2187 Larry Uteck Boulevard

Bedford NS B3B 1E

John William Ritchie 1808-1890

Saint John’s Cemetery
Also known as: Saint Johns Anglican Cemetery

St. John’s Cemetery
2187 Larry Uteck Boulevard

Bedford NS.

Prince Edward Island

 Edward Whelan 1824- 1967

Longworth Avenue Roman Catholic Cemetery

63 Longworth Ave

Charlottetown, PE

C1A 5A6

George Cole 1810-1875

Saint Peters Anglican Cemetery

123 St. Peters Road

Charlottetown

John Hamilton Gray 1811-1887

Sherwood Cemetery

355 Sherwood Rd,

Charlottetown,

PE C1E 0E5

Andrew Archibald MacDonald 1829-1912

People’s Roman Catholic Cemetery

Woodward Dr
Charlottetown
Queens County
Prince Edward Island Canada
Postal Code: C1A 7Z9

Edward Palmer 1808-1889

Sherwood Cemetery

355 Sherwood Rd,

Charlottetown,

PE C1E 0E5

William Henry Pope 1825-1879

Saint Johns Anglican Church

62 South Drive, Summerside,

Prince Edward Island, Canada

Thomas Heath Haviland 1822-1895

Saint Peters Anglican Cemetery

123 St. Peters Road

Charlottetown, PEI

 New Brunswick

Peter Mitchell 1824-1899

St. James and St John United Church

55 King George Highway

New Castle, Mirimachi

New Brunswick

 

Edward Chandler 1800-188-

Dorchester Rural Cemetery

Westmorland County
New Brunswick Canada

Charles Fisher 1808-1888

Forest Hill cemetery Fredericton,NB

E3B4H9

Samuel Leonard Tilley1818-1896

Fernhill cemetery

200 Westmorland Rd,

Saint John, NB E2J 2E7

Lot 2397 on Mimosa Path

Wiliam Steeves 1814-1873

Fernhill cemetery

200 Westmorland Rd,

Saint John, NB E2J 2E7

Lot 1691 on Linden Avenue

John Mercer Johnson 1818-1868

Saint Pauls Anglican Church

Chatham.Head

750 Water St. Miramichi, (Bushville)

New Brunswick, Canada E1N 4B8

Robert Wilmot 1809-1891

St. John’s Anglican Church

60 Broad Road

Oromocto

Quebec

Thomas Darcy McGee 1825-1868

Note-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetery Or

Cimetière Notre-Dame-des-Neiges, Cote-des-Neiges Cemetery

4601 Chemin de la Cote-des-Neiges
Montreal
Montreal Region
Quebec Canada
Postal Code: H3V 1E7

Sir Étienne-Pascal Taché 1795-1865

Cimetière Saint-Odilon

257-263 12e Rue

Montmagny,

Montmagny, Quebec

Alexander Tillouch Galt 1817-1893

Mount royal Cemetery Montreal

1297 Foret Rd, Outremont,

QC H2V 2P9

Jean Chartier Chapais 1811-1885

Saint-Denis Church

Saint-Denis-de-la-Bouteillerie
1, Route de la Grève
Saint-Denis
G0L 2R0
Quebec Canada

Hector Langeuin 1826-1906

Hotel-Dieu de Quebec – Crypte

1, côte du Palais
Quebec City, Quebec, Canada
G1R 2J6

Sir George-Étienne Cartier 1814-1873

Note-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetery Or

Cimetière Notre-Dame-des-Neiges, Cote-des-Neiges Cemetery

4601 Chemin de la Cote-des-Neiges
Montreal
Montreal Region
Quebec Canada
Postal Code: H3V 1E7

Ontario

William McDougall 1822-1905

Beechwood Cemetery
Also known as: National Military Cemetery

280 Beechwood Ave.

Ottawa, ON K1L 8A6

Oliver Mowat 1820-1903

Mount Pleasant Cemetery

375 Mount Pleasant Road
Toronto
Toronto Municipality
Ontario Canada
Postal Code: M4T 2V8

George Brown 1818-1880

Toronto Necropolis Cemetery and Crematorium

200 Winchester Street
Toronto
Toronto Municipality
Ontario Canada

James W. Cockburn 1819-1893

Saint James Cemetery

635 Parliament Street
Toronto
Toronto Municipality
Ontario Canada

William Howland 1811-1907

Saint James Cemetery

635 Parliament Street
Toronto
Toronto Municipality
Ontario Canada

Sir John A MacDonald 1815-1891

Cataraqui Cemetery

927 Purdy Mills Rd.
Kingston
Frontenac County
Ontario Canada

Sir Alexander Campbell 1822-1892

Cataraqui Cemetery

927 Purdy Mills Rd.
Kingston
Frontenac County
Ontario Canada

British Columbia

John Hamilton Gray 1814-1889

Ross Bay Cemetery

1495 Fairfield Road
Victoria
British Columbia

Canada