[Illustration: Victoria district church.]
One Sunday morning in 1862 or 1863, while Bishop Hills was preaching, a man walked into the church and cried out, "My Lord, the church is on fire!" Judge Pemberton, one of the officers of the church, with others got on to the ceiling through a manhole above the gallery, and walked on the rafters to where the fire was located. He missed his footing and came through the lath and plaster, but luckily did not fall to the floor below, but, like Mahomet’s coffin, hung suspended by his arms until rescued from above. The congregation were soon outside, and with willing help the fire was soon extinguished. The church was built and opened in August, 1856, under the supervision of Mr. William Leigh, who was in charge of Uplands Farm,Cadboro Bay, and was in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Mr. Leigh was a man of very good attainments, being a good musician and contributing to the various entertainments of those days, when regular entertainments by professionals were few and far between. He subsequently was City Clerk, being the second to hold that position, after Mr. Nathaniel M. Hicks, who was appointed clerk on the city being incorporated. Mr. Hicks is buried in Quadra Street Cemetery, and his headstone is in evidence to-day as a mute appeal to our city fathers to put the place in order. I might say that Mr. Leigh was the father of a numerous family, but I believe, with the exception of a son, Ernest, who resides in San Francisco, and a granddaughter, Mrs. George Simpson, who resides here, all have passed away.
Victoria District church was destroyed by fire in 1869, one evening about 10 o’clock, the alarm being given by a Catholic priest on his way home, who with Mr. James Kennedy (who lived with me), was passing over the hill. Of the early pioneer clergy connected with the church, Mr. Cridge, the incumbent, was first; then Bishop Hills; the Rev. R. J. Dundas, afterward rector of St. John’s; Rev. Alexander C. Garrett, now Bishop of Dallas, Texas, and Rev. George Crickmer, who subsequently was sent to Langley or Yale.
[Portrait: Bishop George Hills.]
The organ used up to 1861 or 1862 was situated in the gallery, and had three barrels, each of ten tunes, so that thirty tunes was the limit. Mr. Seeley, who owned the Australian House, which stood until lately at the north end of the Causeway, was an attendant at the church, and being an organ-builder undertook to improvise a keyboard attachment for this barrel organ. This keyboard was used on Sunday mornings and on special occasions by Mrs. Atwood (Mrs. T. Sidney Wilson of St. Charles Street.) At evening services themusic was produced by the barrels, worked by a handle, and the writer on these occasions was the "organist." An amusing incident occurred one Sunday evening when I, forgetting the number of verses of a hymn to be sung, stopped playing, and the congregation commenced another verse. Seeing that I had made an error I began again two notes behind. This made confusion worse confounded, as may be supposed, but having commenced I continued to the end of the verse. This being the closing hymn, "Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing," I was not long in making my exit from the church, as I did not wish to meet Mr. Cridge or any of the church officers, being only a youth and anticipating censure, but I forget if I got it. About this time a committee of ladies of the church, among whom were Mrs. A. T. Bushby, mother of Mrs. W. P. Bullen, and Mrs. Good, her sister, both daughters of the Governor, Mrs. Senator Macdonald, and Mrs. Cridge collected a large sum of money and sent to England for a fine pipe organ which I suppose is the one in use to-day. The first organist of this organ was a Mr. Whittaker, and of the choir, as near as I can remember them, were the Misses Harriet and Annie Thorne, Mrs. T. Sidney Wilson, Mrs. Macdonald and her two sisters the Misses Reid, Dr. J. C. Davie, Alex. Davie, his brother, Mr. Willoughby, Robert Jenkinson, Albert F. Hicks, John Bagnall, my brother Rowland and myself. Mr. Walter Chambers, as a youth, was organ blower also about this time. The first sexton and verger was William Raby, and the next John Spelde, who had charge of the Quadra Street Cemetery, digging the graves and collecting the fees for the same.
I have spun this article out beyond what I intended, but I must be excused as I don’t know when I have said enough on pioneer days.
CHRISTMAS IN PIONEER DAYS.
"... When I remember all the friends so linked together... Fond memory brings the light of other days around me."
"... When I remember all the friends so linked together... Fond memory brings the light of other days around me."
I have been requested to give my recollection of a Victoria Christmas in the good old days, as to how it was spent and conditions generally. In the first place, in speaking of "the good old days" of the sixties, I would not convey the impression that they were literally so good, for they were, so far as I can remember, some of the hardest that Victoria has seen.
There is a something in recollections of the past that have been pleasant that is indescribable. It is easier felt than described, and I have no doubt is felt by many old-timers in this city to-day. Ask them to describe these feelings and they would be nonplussed. "Mark Twain" was written to by the pioneers of California inviting him to come and speak of the early days of San Francisco, when he was himself a pioneer of the Pacific. What his reply was I now forget, but it was something to this effect: "Do you wish to see an old man overcome and weep as he recalls those pioneer days?" These were a few words of what he said in reply to that invitation. "The good old days" may not have been the most prosperous, nor the happiest that "Mark Twain" may have spent, but there was a something, acharm indescribable that he felt, but could not express. I feel this way myself.
It is Christmas and its surroundings in any age that help to make these pleasing regrets. The incidents and the persons connected with them are gone and can never be recalled. The friends we knew then, whom we may have met at one of those Christmas gatherings, we see them as they pass before our mental vision. Where are they all to-day? The Quadra Street Cemetery might be able to tell, for each is "in his narrow cell forever laid."
I have rambled far enough, and it is time I got to my story.
I would remark in passing that Christmas, to be genuine, should be bright and frosty, with a flurry of snow, and this with walking exercise makes the blood to flow freely, and makes one feel better able to enjoy the festive occasion.
Well, we had just such weather in those days, and such weather is sadly lacking in these. Our climate has changed very much since then. Less snow and cold and more rain now. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle! The merry sleigh bell! After the advent of the first snow, and when deep enough, there might be heard the sleigh-bell, either on a grocer’s or butcher’s sleigh, or on an improvised sleigh made from a dry-goods case with a pair of runners attached, to which would be fastened a pair of shafts from a buggy or wagon not now usable. Everyone who owned a horse had a sleigh at little cost, and good use was made of it while the snow lasted. Long drives in the country or to church, or to a Christmas party or dance. I can see such a merry sleigh party of young people, the girls well wrapped up peeping over their furs, laughing and dodging the snowballsthrown by a party of boys around the corner, who are always waiting for the next one to come along.
"Where is now the merry party I remember long ago,Laughing round the Christmas fire, brightened by its ruddy glow;Or in summer’s balmy evenings, in the field upon the hay?They have all dispersed and wandered, far away, far away!"
"Where is now the merry party I remember long ago,Laughing round the Christmas fire, brightened by its ruddy glow;Or in summer’s balmy evenings, in the field upon the hay?They have all dispersed and wandered, far away, far away!"
We nearly all went to church—the Anglicans, and many Nonconformists with them—on Christmas morning, and the Catholics on Christmas Eve. But first of all there was the preparation for the event. About a week before wagon-loads of young fir trees were brought in from the outskirts, and every storekeeper and many householders procured enough to decorate the front of the house or shop, a tree being tied to each verandah post. In those days no shop was complete without its wooden awning, as may be seen in many of the old photos of that period. Imagine Government Street, both sides, from end to end, one continuous line of green, relieved with, it might be, white; just enough snow to cover the ground, "bright and crisp and even."
I have often longed for such a Christmas in these degenerate times, when rain is nearly always the order of the day. All the Christmas shopping was done during Christmas week. The fancy goods stores of those days were few—"Hibben & Carswell," "The London Bazaar," and David Spencer. The former was then on Yates Street, corner of Langley, and the other two in Government Street; and I must not forget Thomas Gorrie on Fort Street. There was not the choice in toys and fancy articles then. Children were satisfied with less, and were just as happy. The beautiful and expensivedolls then were of wax, and being susceptible to frost, were taken great care of. The butchers’ and grocers’ shops were then as now a great attraction at Christmas, and we had all to pay one visit at least to Johnny Stafford’s (afterwards Stafford & Goodacre), Thomas Harris’ two shops, and Fred. Reynolds’, on the corner of Yates and Douglas, and I doubt if a better show (for quality) is made to-day.
At Christmas there was the usual influx of miners from far-off Cariboo down to spend the winter in Victoria, with pockets well-lined with nuggets. It was "easy come, easy go" with them, and liberal were the purchases they made for their relations and friends.
Christmas Eve, after dinner, mother or father or both with the children were off to buy the last of the presents, visit the shops or buy their Christmas dinner, for many left it till then. Turkey might not have been within their reach, but geese, wild or tame, took their place. Sucking pig was my favorite dish. Wild duck and grouse (fifty cents per pair), with fine roasts of beef. Of course plum pudding was in evidence with poor as well as rich, although eggs at Christmas were one dollar per dozen.
A great feature of Christmas time was shooting for turkeys and geese at several outlying places, and raffles for turkeys at several of the principal saloons and hotels. The place I best remember was the Brown Jug, kept by Tommy Golden.
A special feature of the saloons on Christmas Eve was "egg-nog," and all we young fellows dropped in for a glass on our way to midnight mass at the Catholic Church on Humboldt Street. It was one of the attractions of Christmas Eve, and the church was filled to overflowing, and later on there was standing room only.We went to hear the singing, which was best obtainable, Mademoiselle La Charme, Mrs. A. Fellows (daughter of Sir Rowland Hill), Charles Lombard, Mr. Wolff, and Mr. Schmidt. These were assisted by the sisters, many of whom had nice voices. Amongst the well-dressed city people were many Cariboo miners—trousers tucked in their boots, said trousers held in position with a belt, and maybe no coat or vest on. When the time came for the collection, all hands dug down in their pockets and a generous collection was the result. My old friend, Tom Burnes, was one of the collectors on one occasion. There were not sufficient collecting plates, and Mr. Burnes took his hat and went amongst the crowd who were standing up in the rear of the church. As he passed through a group of miners, friend Tom was heard to say, "Now, boys, be liberal," and the response was all that could be desired; for, as I said before, it was "easy come, easy go." "Twelve-thirty," service is over, we are off to bed, for we must be up betimes in the morning for service at 11 o’clock.
"When I remember all the friends so linked together," who met on those Christmas mornings long ago, I think, how many are there left? Those of the choir who led in the anthem, "And There Were Shepherds Keeping Watch," and the hymns, "Christians, Awake," and "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing." Of those who met at the church door afterwards to shake hands all round, "A Merry Christmas," "The Compliments of the Season," and many other good wishes—of all these a few are left, amongst them Bishop Cridge, Senator and Mrs. Macdonald, Dr. Helmcken, David W. Higgins, Judges Walkem and Drake, Mrs. Wootton, Charles Hayward, Edward Dickinson, Mrs. Ella, Mr. and Mrs. George Richardson, Mrs. Pemberton, andMrs. Jesse, and maybe a few others I cannot now remember. Well, all things must come to an end, and so must this reminiscence of an "Early Christmas in Victoria," and in closing I wish all those mentioned here a "Happy Christmas and many of them."
(Note.—Several of those mentioned are since dead.—E. F.)
THE QUEEN’S BIRTHDAY FORTY YEARS AGO.
The reproduction of an item in theColonistof "Forty Years Ago," giving a list of the committee formed to prepare a programme for the celebration of the Queen’s Birthday, called my attention to the names of that committee. They are nearly all familiar. His Worship the Mayor, I think, was Mr. Harris, who was our first mayor; next follows Doctor Tolmie, chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company; Wm. J. Macdonald, now senator; Lumley Franklin, was a prominent citizen, an English Jew. There were two brothers, the elder being named Selim. They were real estate brokers and auctioneers. Lumley was a clever amateur actor and as a member of the Victoria Amateur Dramatic Association he took a prominent part in all the entertainments for charity in those days. John Wilkie was a Wharf Street merchant. Mr. W. T. Drake was the late Judge Drake; D. B. Ring was a prominent barrister, who, when not in court, might have been seen walking about with a couple of dogs and a hunting crop under his arm. He was one of the old school. Allan Francis, the first American Consul to Victoria, a man liked by everyone; James A. McCrae, an American auctioneer, and very fond of sport; Mr. T. Johnston was manager for Findlay, Durham & Brodie; James Lowe, of Lowe Brothers, Wharf Street, merchants; William Charles, chief factor of Hudson’s Bay Company;Captain Delacombe, in charge of the garrison on San Juan Island; E. Grancini, hardware merchant, with whom Charles Lombard was chief salesman; T. L. Stahlschmidt, of Findlay, Durham & Brodie; Captain Stamp, a millman, representing an English company who owned a large mill at Alberni; Godfrey Brown, late of Honolulu, a clever member of the Victoria Amateur Dramatic Association. I might mention this association had many very clever men as members, who would have graced any stage. Mr. Higgins, with myself, have written of the theatrical performances by this club in early days. Next is A. R. Green, of Janion, Green & Rhodes, of Store Street; J. D. Pemberton, colonial surveyor; J. C. Nicholson, who married pretty Mary Dorman; George J. Findlay, of Findlay, Durham & Brodie; Francis Garesche, of Garesche-Green’s Bank; C. W. R. Thomson, manager of the Victoria Gas Works; George Pearkes, barrister; Lieutenants Brooks and Hastings, of H.M.S.Zealous, the first ironclad to come into the Pacific around Cape Horn, and Sheriff Elliott.
This was a strong committee, for those days. All prominent men and good workers.
[Portrait: Thomas Harris.]
Beacon Hill was the head centre of sport, and far enough from town, as nearly all of us walked. But all kinds of conveyances were brought into requisition to take people out, especially from Esquimalt and the country. We had to rely on the navy then as always. The two livery stables of J. W. Williams, on the corner now occupied by Prior & Co., and William G. Bowman, on Yates Street, where the Poodle Dog stands, furnished busses and buggies, and large express wagons were also improvised, seats being put in for the occasion. With my mind’s eye I can see Thomas Harris, first mayor.
The chief event of the day was the horse races, and the mayor was an enthusiastic horse-fancier and steward of the Jockey Club. These attractions were nothing without Mr. Harris, coupled with Commander Lascelles, of the gunboatForward, a son of the Earl of Harewood, and John Howard, of Esquimalt. The time for the first race is near, the bell rings (John Butts was bellman), and the portly figure of Mr. Harris on horseback appears. "Now, gentlemen, clear the course," and there is a general scattering of people outside the rails, and the horses with their gaily dressed jockeys canter past the grandstand, make several false starts, then off they go. It is a mile heat round the hill, best two out of three to win. Oh! what exciting things these races were to us old-timers, who were satisfied with a little. The grandstand stood due south of the flagpole, and stood there for years after the races were held elsewhere. I must not forget to mention the Millingtons, of Esquimalt, who always rode John Howard’s horses at these meetings; they were born jockeys. I think one of them still lives near Esquimalt. I would we had such Queen’s weather now as we had then. May was then more like what July is now for warmth, with beautiful clear skies; they were days worth remembering. Everyone went out for the day, and whole families might have been seen either riding in express wagons, busses, or trudging along on foot, carrying baskets of provisions. Soon the hill was covered with picnickers, as well as the surrounding woods. There was plenty of good cheer and good-natured folk to dispense that cheer, not only to their own, but to those who had not come provided. "Why, how do you do, Mrs. Smith? Mr. Smith, how are you? You are just in time. Make room for Mrs. Smith, John, alongside you; Annie andMary can sit by Ellen. Oh, of course, you’ll lunch with us! There, we are all ready now, so fall to!" This is a sample of the good-heartedness of the old-timers. Everyone knew everybody, and all were as one family.
The navy was represented by bluejackets and marines by the hundreds. Bands of music, Aunt Sally, and the usual side shows were there. Aunt Sally was usually run by a lot of sailors, or soldiers, with faces painted like circus clowns, and dressed in motley garments. "Now, ladies and gents, walk up and ’ave a shy at Aunt Sally; the dear old girl don’t mind being ’it a bit; she is so good-natured; that’s a right h’excellent shot that, ’ave another try." The same scene was likely being enacted some distance off with "Punch and Judy," and you may be sure that "Jack" was principal in this show as well, for where there is fun there Jack is. I must not forget the music. Outside the local band there was always a naval band, of a flagship usually, such as theGangesorSutlej, which were "three-deckers," line-o’-battleships which would have put an ordinary battleship to blush. It was supposed that the officers subscribed to the band fund, and as there were many officers on a large ship, and well-to-do at that, they had good music. TheGangesband was something worth hearing, about twenty-four strong. It was often heard in Victoria, either at a naval funeral or at some public function. The navy was the mainspring of Victoria in more ways than one. They took part in all public functions, furnishing music, help and flags, and by their presence in uniform brightened up and lent grace to the affair. Do we realize how great a loss their absence to the city is? We ought to have found out the difference by now. The races are over, the day’s celebration is near its end.Some of those who came early with children are tired out and have gone home, others will soon follow, as a general packing up of baskets is going on. "Jack" no longer calls on the passerby to have a shy at Old Aunt Sally, Punch has killed his wife and baby for the last time. Parties of bluejackets are moving off with one playing a tin whistle, to which some are singing. The day draws to a close, and in the words of the immortal Gray, "Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight," and I close this recital of echoes of a past—Queen’s Birthday forty odd years ago.
Through the kindness of Mr. Albert H. Maynard I am enabled to produce an old picture of Beacon Hill during a celebration.
[Illustration: Queen‘s birthday, Beacon Hill.]
The following account of the regatta during the celebration of the Queen’s Birthday appears in theBritish Colonistof May 25th, 1868:
"The first of the festivities forming a part of the celebration of the forty-ninth celebration of Queen Victoria’s Birthday took place on Saturday, and was in every respect a great success. The day, although warmer than usual, was well suited for the picnic parties which occupied the banks of our beautiful Arm, all the way from the bridge to the Gorge. It is estimated that there were one thousand persons assembled altogether. Early in the morning the town bore a most lively appearance, flags were flying from all the principal buildings and the shipping, and by half-past ten the streets were full of well-dressed persons wending their way to the Hudson’s Bay Company’s wharf, where the steam launch and barges of theZealouswere placed at the disposal of the Committee by the Admiral to convey them up the Arm. The managing committee were here represented by Messrs. Stuart and Franklin,whose arrangements were admirable. From the wharf to the Gorge the Arm wore a most animated appearance. From Her Majesty’s gunboatForward, all decked in colors, which took up her position near the bridge, down to the meanest craft, the water was covered with boats laden with people full of merriment and joy. From Curtis’ Point, where the barges delivered their living freight, the scene was really enchanting. An arch of flags spanning the water, the high banks covered with tents, the bridge and every spot on both sides of the Arm crowded with people, and the roads lined with equestrians, amongst whom were many ladies, gave the happiest effect to the whole scene. We cannot recall a single celebration which was more appreciated or enjoyable than our regatta of Saturday. Much of this success, it must not be forgotten, must be attributed to the gracious manner in which Admiral Hastings co-operated with the committee to secure the comfort and convenience of the public, and without which kindness and attention the day would have been shorn of most of its enjoyment. Owing to the severe illness of His Excellency the Governor he was prevented from being present. We observed Mrs. Seymour, Mrs. Hills, the Admiral, Sir James Douglas and family, the Chief Justice, Colonial Secretary, officers of the fleet and several of the principal officials and families. A more universal assemblage was never known; clergymen of every denomination, men of all politics, people of all nations, rich and poor, in fact, mingled together freely, forgetting the sectional and social differences which divide them, acted as became the occasion, that of honoring the monarch whose virtues are an example to the world. The racing was not so successful as last year, but, nevertheless,was good, and under the management of Mr. Hastings and Mr. Kelly gave perfect satisfaction.
"The amusements concluded by a duck hunt, but the men were not seen by more than a dozen people; it may be considered the only failure of the day. We must not omit to mention that two new racing gigs were built for the occasion, respectively by Mr. Trahey and Mr. Lachapelle, boat builders, who take the greatest interest in the regattas, and spare nothing to make them successful. These boats were both defeated in their maiden races, but the design and workmanship of theZealousandAmateur, it is said, would reflect credit on any country."
EVOLUTION OF THE VICTORIA POST-OFFICE.
[Portrait: Henry Wootton.]
I have before me at the present moment the envelope of an old letter. It was received from England in 1863 by my father. The three stamps on it show a value of 34 cents—one shilling, one fourpence and one penny. It is only a single letter, and a small one at that. In fact, if it were any larger it would have had more postage on it. Just think of the difference between now and then. The first postmaster I remember in Victoria was J. D’ewes. Something went wrong with the finances during his incumbency and he suddenly disappeared with a large sum for a more congenial clime (Australia, I think). D’ewes had one clerk to assist him in the work of the post-office, by name J. M. Morrison. He was succeeded by Mr. Henry Wootton, father of Stephen Wootton, registrar-general, and Edward Wootton, the barrister. Mrs. Wootton, senior, is still with us, hale and hearty, I am glad to say. The late J. M. Sparrow was also connected with the early Victoria post-office with Mr. Wootton. I well remember when the post-office was on Government Street, opposite the C. P. R. telegraph office, in a small wooden structure with a verandah in front, as was the fashion in those days for all business places. I also remember it when it was on Wharf Street, north of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s store, occupying the lower floor, while EdwardB. Marvin’s sail-loft occupied the upper. The staff then consisted of Mr. Wootton and J. M. Sparrow, as before stated, with occasional extra assistants, say on the arrival of an English mail, which came then via the Isthmus of Panama and San Francisco. The "whole staff" had to work hard then, and long hours, even into the morning. I have seen a line of letter hunters reaching from the post-office up Wharf Street nearly to Yates, waiting for the mail to be sorted and the wicket to open. I especially remember one evening in 1865. The San Francisco steamer had arrived in the afternoon at Esquimalt, and at eight o’clock there had not been a letter delivered, although the staff had worked like beavers to get the mails sorted. The mails from Europe arrived about twice a month, and not regularly at that. TheColonistwould state that "there was no mail again," but that it might be expected to-morrow. It was a day of importance when it did arrive, and people naturally were anxious to get their letters, even if it necessitated their standing in the street in line, maybe at ten o’clock at night. Many a time a dollar has been paid for a favorable place in line near the wicket by someone whose time was considered too valuable to spend in waiting for his turn.
A good deal of banter was indulged in by those in line. The anticipation of their hearing from friends at home made them good-natured, and brought out the best that was in them. And, oh! when the wicket was at last opened, distribution commenced and the line moved on and up, there was a shout of joy and satisfaction. Those were memorable days in Victoria’s history, the good old days of long ago.
[Illustration: Drawing of Government St. with old Bastion.]
I remember again when the post-office was on Government Street again, this time where Weiler Brothers’building now stands, still in wood, and in no more pretentious a building than the former ones. From there it was moved again up Government Street to the old site, opposite the C. P. R. telegraph office, until that place got too small, and a final move was made to its present location, and a large addition is soon to be made to keep pace with the rapid growth of the city. Letters were an expensive luxury in the early days, as this table of rates will show: To send a half ounce letter to Great Britain cost 34¢., British North American provinces 20¢., France 50¢., Germany 40¢., Holland 57¢., Norway 56¢., Portugal 68¢., Sweden 52¢., and San Francisco 15¢. Most of the letters from the latter place were received by Wells Fargo’s express, and cost, I think, 3¢., and special charge of 25¢. on each letter. I have already described the receipt of Wells Fargo’s express from Esquimalt in the early times, and how John Parker, now of Metchosin, used to meet the steamer at Esquimalt. When she was expected their messenger, whose name was Miller, and a colored man, used to watch from Church Hill, and on her being sighted at Race Rocks the express flag was hoisted in front of their office on Yates Street to let the citizens know the fact. Before the steamer made a landing the letter-bags were thrown ashore to John Parker, and fastened on his horse, then off he galloped to Victoria, the horse being covered with sweat on arrival at the express office, where the letters were called off by Colonel Pendergast, or Major Gillingham, to a crowded audience.
On the death of Mr. Wootton, I believe Mr. Robert Wallace was the next to fill the position, which he did for some years. When he retired he went to his former home in Scotland. On his retirement the position was offered to the present incumbent, Mr. Noah Shakespeare,who so ably fills it. I might say, to show the growth of the post-office in this city since Mr. Wootton’s time, when he with two assistants carried on the work, that to-day the staff, including letter-carriers, numbers forty-eight.
The registered parcels and letters for last year were just twice the year before, with a large increase in money orders, and to show the large increase in letters in one evening at Christmas, twelve thousand were received and cancelled in the post-office.
In conclusion I would ask, were not letters which cost 34¢. postage in those days more appreciated than a lot of letters now at 2¢. each? It is the old story over again, that a thing easy to get is thought little of.
I might say this article was written in May, 1908, and at the present writing, December, 1911, the volume of business of the Victoria post-office has increased nearly fifty per cent.—that is, in three years. It might be interesting to note that of the present staff Mr. Thomas Chadwick, in charge of the money order office, is senior in years of service, having joined the staff in 1880. Next comes Mr. Charles Finlaison, 1882, and Mr. James Smith, 1887. The deputy postmaster, Mr. T. A. Cairns, joined the staff in Winnipeg in 1880, and the Victoria staff in 1882. Mr. Shakespeare, postmaster, has been head of the department here since 1888.
FIFTY YEARS AGO.
It is said, and I think truthfully, that youthful impressions are more lasting than any others. This is my own experience, for my mind is stored with early reminiscences. It is verified by no less a person than my dear old friend, Bishop Cridge, who told me quite recently that he well remembered an incident that occurred to him when he was between three and four years old—that of a regiment of soldiers passing through his native village, and of his following them quite a distance from his home, and of the distress of his family on discovering his absence. In a long life of ninety-one years this is, I think, remarkable. Well, this is not the subject of my present writing. It is to give my impressions of this fair city fifty years ago, as I remember it as a child.
To-day fifty years ago I landed with my parents and brothers on the Hudson’s Bay Company’s wharf, having arrived from San Francisco on the steamerNortherner, which docked at Esquimalt, as all large ocean steamers then did. We came from Esquimalt on a small steamer, theEmma, orEmily Harris. The latter steamer was built, I think, by Thomas Harris, and named after his daughter, Mrs. William Wilson, whom I am pleased to know is still a resident with her family. The scene will ever be impressed on my mind as I saw my future home on that 12th day of February, 1859. Outside JohnsonStreet on the north, Blanchard Street on the east, and the north end of James Bay bridge on the south, everything else was country—oak and pine trees, with paths only, otherwise trails made by Indians and cattle. Within this wood under the oaks were wildflowers of all kinds in profusion. Through these woods and by these paths I went day by day to the old Colonial School on the site of the present Central. With the exception of private schools kept by the late Edward Mallandaine, and another kept by the late John Jessop, our school supplied the wants of the time. It was built of squared logs, whitewashed, and was the residence of the master as well. It was situated in the middle of a large tract of land which is to-day used for school purposes. The school was built in the middle of a grove of oaks, and there could not have been a more beautiful spot. Under these oaks we boys and girls (alas, how few are left), sat at noon and ate our lunch, or rested after a game of ball, or "hunt the hounds." Those were happy days in their rustic simplicity, and so will those say who remain to-day, fifty years later. There are several living here in the still fair city of Victoria, but how many have gone to that bourne whence no traveller yet returned?
We made what would now be considered a pretty long trip from San Francisco, eleven days. Just think of it, long enough to have gone to Europe. We passed on and out of the east gate on to Fort Street. How strange it all looked to me after the large city of San Francisco. As I have before stated, nearly the whole block from the Brown Jug corner to Broad Street was an orchard. I "borrowed" apples from this orchard later on, and good they tasted, and like stolen sweets were sweetest. Fort Street from Government up was a quagmire ofmud, this street not having been paved, as it was later, with boulders from the beach and with a top layer of gravel or pebbles, also from the beach. The sidewalk on the Five Sisters’ side of the street was made of slabs, round side up, and was very slippery in wet weather. This I have from my brother. I can remember the other side of the street was made of two boards laid lengthwise.
Douglas Street had many tents on it, as well as did Johnson. Where the Five Sisters’ block stands was a log house, set back from the street. This was the company’s bakery, where I used to go for bread at 25¢. a loaf (about four pounds). There was not a brick building on the west side of Government Street save the residence of Thomas Harris on the corner of Bastion. His daughter, Mrs. Wilson, with a large family, is with us to-day. This building was afterward converted into the Bank of British Columbia.
[Portrait: George Richardson.]
The only brick building on the east side was the Victoria Hotel, now the Windsor, the first brick building in Victoria, constructed by George Richardson, still a resident. Where the B. C. Market is now was a neat cottage built of squared logs whitewashed, with green door and window casings. It was the residence of Dr. Johnson of the company’s service. The corner now occupied by the Bank of Commerce and the C. P. R. offices was vacant lots, and there were many other vacant lots on that side of Government Street, both north and south. There was a lake on View Street above Quadra, with good duck shooting in winter. Fort Street from the corner of Douglas Street east was blank, with the exception of a lot of Hudson’s Bay Company’s barns, set back in the block. This was, I believe, the site of a farm before 1858, for there were so many evidences ofit when I played in these barns as a child, often helping, as I thought, to unload hay for the cattle which were kept here in the winter.
A deep ravine ran east and west between Johnson and Pandora Streets into Victoria harbor. This ravine was bridged at Store, Government and Douglas Streets, behind Porter’s building. There were only two wharves in the harbor south of the bridge to the Indian reserve. Over this bridge all traffic passed to Esquimalt and surrounding country until Point Ellice bridge was built.
The Songhees reserve was covered with Indian lodges, and the Indians were numbered by hundreds. At times of feasts, when they had a potlatch, or at the making of a "medicine-man," the reserve was a lively place and the noise deafening with their yells, both day and night. It was unsafe to go there at night when these celebrations were held. Many outrages were committed on passers-by by Indians when in a state of drunkenness.
Over James Bay to what is now the outer dock, was a forest of pines and oak trees, with very few residences. With all this rustic simplicity we lived and enjoyed the passing hour. We have many things now we did not dream of then; not knowing of them we did not miss them, and were just as happy without them. I might conclude thus with:
"Victoria, the sweetest village of the west,Scene of my youth, I love thee best."
"Victoria, the sweetest village of the west,Scene of my youth, I love thee best."
FORTY YEARS AGO.
April, 1908.
Sir,—I am always interested in "Forty Years Ago." It brings back to me food for thought, especially of late, when so many old-timers have passed away. Before commenting on theColonist’s"Forty Years Ago" in Saturday’s issue, I would remark that I expected mention to have been made in the article on the late R. S. Byrn, that he was a newspaper man for some years. I remember Mr. Byrn as bookkeeper for theStandard, under Amor De Cosmos, forty-two years ago, seeing him every day, as theStandardoffice was next door to my father’s store on Government Street, opposite Trounce Avenue. TheStandard, like theColonist, was started by Amor De Cosmos. The first item of interest on Saturday is the sailing of the steamerEnterprisefor New Westminster (she made only two trips a week); among her passengers were Chief Justice Needham, Rev. E. White (the pioneer minister of the Wesleyan Church in Victoria), and R. Holloway. The latter is connected with the governmentGazetteto-day.
The next item announces the first cricket match of the season at Beacon Hill. The Victoria eleven are Charles Clark, a clever amateur actor who helped to make a success of the various entertainments our clubgave for charity in these days; E. Dewdney, afterwards Governor; —. Walker, a prominent barrister of those days; Joseph Wilson, of the firm of W. & J. Wilson; Josiah Barnett, cashier of the McDonald Bank; C. Guerra, a remittance man; C. Green, of Janion, Green & Rhodes; Thomas Tye, of Mathews, Richard & Tye; John Howard, of Esquimalt; Gold Commissioner Ball, and last though not least, Judge Drake. A cricket match in those days was always able to draw a crowd, being the ball game of the day. In this match the name does not appear of a Mr. Richardson, who was a professional player and at least an extra fine player, who came here about that time with a visiting team. He is still in Victoria, as I saw him quite lately.
Among the passengers by the steamerCaliforniafor San Francisco, I note Rev. Dr. Evans, of the Methodist Church, and family; C. C. Pendergast, in charge of Wells Fargo’s bank and express, an important institution then; J. H. Turner, (Hon.) William Lawson, of the Bank of British North America, and brother of James H. Lawson; R. P. Rithet & Co., Mr. and Mrs. Pidwell, whose daughter Mr. Higgins married; John Glassey, an uncle of Mr. T. P. McConnell; J. S. Drummond, father of Mrs. Magill; Richard Broderick, the coal dealer, and wife, and Mrs. Zelner, whose husband kept a drug store where the B. C. Market now is. It will be noted that a number of people assembled on the wharf to see their friends off. I might say that this was the usual thing in those days. Even some business places would be closed while the proprietor went to the wharf to say good-bye to a relative or friend.
Sir,—In Thursday’s paper in the "Forty Years Ago" column I note the account given of the suicide of a young girl at Cadboro Bay. An interesting account is given in the "Mystic Spring" by my friend, Mr. Higgins. Poor girl! It was another case of unrequited affection. I knew Miss Booth well, being of my own age. We had met on many occasions at picnics and dances and at other festivities. On the memorable afternoon cited I saw her walking on the Cadboro Bay Road from town just ahead of me, and I hurried and caught up and accosted her, asking where she was off to. She was then more than three miles from home, which was on the Esquimalt Road. She replied in the most cheerful manner, with a smile: "Oh, I’m going for a walk to Cadboro Bay." I remarked on the long distance she was from home, to which she replied, and passed on. Little did I think then that she was on her way to her death, and in so cool and collected a manner. My memory has been freshened lately by my brother, as to the circumstances attending the sad affair. Miss Booth was one of three sisters who lived with their father and mother, as before stated, on Esquimalt Road. She had become acquainted with a young gentleman who afterward became an M.P. at Ottawa, and this acquaintance ripened into something stronger, so much so that she fell in love with him, and showed it so pointedly that he, as well as others, could not well help noticing it. He did not reciprocate her affection, and I believe told her so, and like an honest man avoided her. This in time was too much for her and she took the fatal course which ended in her drowning herself near the "Mystic Spring."
Being the last to see her in life, and knowing her so well, I tendered my evidence at the coroner’s inquest. I might say that the family shortly afterwards moved to Ladner’s Landing, and the two sisters married there, and part of the family still reside in that vicinity. This ends another little episode of forty years ago. This is for those who may remember the sad occurrence and the interest taken in the poor girl’s sad fate at the time.
THE LATE GOVERNOR JOHNSON.
[Portrait: John H. Johnson.]
To the Editor,—As I sit writing, my eyes rest on the picture of the subject of these few remarks. This picture was sent to me with an autograph letter by Governor John Johnson, of Minnesota, four years ago, under these circumstances. In a magazine I was reading, as I lay in bed with typhoid fever, I came across an article written by a life-long friend of this good and great man. Of his early boyhood to the time when he was elected Governor of Minnesota, what an example he was to the youth of that day as well as this. The short sketch ran thus: John Johnson was the eldest, I think, of four children. His father was a blacksmith and a good mechanic. Both father and mother were Swedes. Although a good mechanic, he developed into a lazy, bad man, who neglected his wife and children, and eventually landed in the poorhouse. Being left to themselves, the mother took in washing, and after school, John, the eldest, took home the clothes and took out parcels for a tradesman. John was thus able to help to keep the family. He was ambitious, wanted to learn, attended night school for that purpose, engaged with a chemist, gave it up, went into a lawyer’s office, then into politics, and after filling several important positions got elected Governor of his native state. What I admired in John Johnson was his devotion to his mother, brother and sisters; also his self-denial. What wouldyou think of an alpaca coat to resist the rigors of a Minnesota winter? Well, John, by working at night in various ways saved up enough to buy an overcoat, he having none, and having to be out late at night delivering the clothes his mother had washed during the day. Through unforeseen demands on his mother’s earnings the poor boy was forced to give up the overcoat and hand over the hard-earned money for something he thought was wanted more, and went through the winter with nothing warmer than an alpaca jacket. I cannot but believe that these hardships laid the foundation for a delicate constitution, and every time I looked at his picture hanging in my dining-room I thought, "How delicate he looks; will he live to be an old man?" I was so taken with the story of his early life, his trials bravely endured, and his final triumph, that I wrote to him and congratulated him on his election. This election was a great victory for him, as his opponents used the fact against him that his father had been an inmate of the poorhouse and had died there a pauper, to defeat him. These disgraceful tactics were repudiated by many of his opponents, who showed they did so by voting against their own candidate and for John Johnson. This gain of votes from his opponents elected him by a good majority. Well, I told him in my letter that I was a British subject living in Victoria, Canada, and as such I congratulated him on his victory, that I was glad his old mother was alive to see his triumph, and that she should be proud, and no doubt was proud, of such a son.
In due course he replied, and also sent me his photo, which, as I said before, I had framed and hung up in my dining-room as an object-lesson for all of how a good and noble son made a good and noble man. There is room for many more such in this world.
To show the respect and love of the people for this good and great man, I have added the account of his burial. The late Governor Johnson paid a visit to Victoria about a year before his death, and I am sorry I was not aware of the fact until it was too late, as I should have esteemed it an honor to have shaken hands with him:
"St. Paul, Minn., Sept. 23.—While the body of Governor John A. Johnson, of Minnesota, was being lowered into its grave this afternoon all industrial activity in the state was stopped for five minutes as a tribute to the memory of the dead Governor.
"The body, which had been lying in state in the rotunda of the capitol since yesterday, where it was guarded by officers and privates of the state militia, was taken to the railroad station at 9.15 this morning, escorted by ten companies of militia, preceded by a band of one hundred pieces.
"At the station the body was placedaboarda special train which left for St. Peter, Minn., where interment took place this afternoon at three o’clock. The funeral services were held in the St. Peter Presbyterian Church, where Johnson sang in the choir when a boy. While the services were in progress at St. Peter’s, memorial services were held in all the churches in Minneapolis and St. Paul. The public schools are closed to-day, and the whole state is in mourning."
A TRIP TO A CORAL ISLAND.
The Ladrone Islands, which from time immemorial have belonged to Spain, now, as is well known, belong to the United States. There is a cable station on the chief island, Guam. The Ladrone Islands lie off the coast of the Philippines, and are about three thousand miles from the Hawaiian Islands in a west-southwest direction. The Island of Guam has about five thousand inhabitants, mostly Philipinos, natives, Chinese and Europeans. Guam, with its sandy beach, its cocoanut trees and coral strand, puts one much in mind of the coral islands of story books, where an open boat with boys of various ages have landed from some wrecked vessel, and lived on fish, berries and cocoanuts, not forgetting wild pigs and goats. Altogether it is typical of what all boys read and would like to read again.
The coins used in trade are all Spanish, mostly of copper, but silver is also used. The natives make mats, just such as our natives used to make years ago in British Columbia, so finely woven as to hold water. Water is carried in the Ladrone Islands in bamboos, the divisions being cut out, and the whole bamboo filled with water and carried on the shoulder. The usual vehicle is a two-wheeled cart, drawn by a bull with long horns, the reins being fastened to the horns; certain pulls on each horn turn him to left or right. They trot along like ponies. The ruins exist of a Spanish churchat Agana, over a hundred years old, the bells belonging to it being hung in a low tower near by.
Since the American occupation the natives have taken to baseball as a recreation.
It is an interesting sight to see the native women wash clothes. They stand in a stream up to their waists, and after soaping the clothes, they pound them with a stone, or else take one end of the garment in both hands and dash the other end up against a rock or board. The natives have adopted a great many of the old Spanish customs among themselves, including cock-fighting, which sport is carried on every Sunday and holiday. Every man has his trained fighting-cock, and they take great interest in the sport, staking large sums on their birds. They lash sharp, razor-like knives on the birds’ spurs, and the fight seldom lasts more than a few minutes, and generally ends in one of them being ripped up.
The native huts have always the roof and sometimes the walls covered with palm leaves, which are impervious to rain, and will last about five years, when they have to be renewed. The floor is generally covered with rough boards, far enough off the ground to make a chicken-house underneath, or else room to tie up a bull or cariboo, or to put the bull-cart under.
One of the chief exports of the island is copra, which is the meat of the cocoanut, picked and dried at a certain stage of its growth. In front of nearly every native hut can be seen copra drying on mats, and it is always taken in at night away from the dew. It is used to make shredded cocoanut, cocoanut oil, soap and other things, and the natives get about two and a half cents a pound for it.
A VICTORIAN’S VISIT TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA.
We left Victoria March 2nd via Seattle for San Francisco and Los Angeles by the good steamerGovernor. We arrived at San Francisco Sunday, March 6th, after a rather rough trip, on which I did not miss a meal. After breakfast Mrs. F. and I, with three fellow-passengers, went to Sutro Heights and then to Golden Gate Park. The seals were still sleeping on the rocks or bobbing about in the water as of old. Sutro’s gardens were a disappointment, as they seemed to have been allowed to go to decay. Of all the beautiful statuary representing the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece and Rome, all were in a state of dilapidation—arms, legs and heads broken off and covered with moss and dirt. Many of the glass houses in the gardens were in a like state. We did not stay long there, but took cars for Golden Gate Park, which is kept up by the Government and everything is kept in a perfect state of repair. Beautiful avenues of tropical trees, flowers in profusion, statues of public men of the past, and then the museum. This had the most attractions for me, as there were many interesting things to inspect, of which more anon. On the down trip we took on board at San Francisco a party of seven gentlemen who were going to Los Angeles for a holiday, consisting of a judge, a lawyer, a doctor, a manager of an electric light company, twomerchants, and last but not least, a blacksmith, all members of a singing society. These gentlemen gave us several most enjoyable little concerts. We arrived at Redondo on March 8th and took cars for Los Angeles soon after arrival, and were in Los Angeles about two o’clock. I must confess I was not impressed with San Francisco, for while there were some very handsome, ornate and very high buildings, especially in the burned area and on Market Street, there were alongside the new buildings the cellars of former fine buildings filled with debris of the buildings destroyed by quake or fire, also whole blocks boarded up and covered with advertisements, behind which were piles of broken masonry and twisted steel. I went along Montgomery to Kearney Street, up Clay to Powell and found very little change from what I left in 1859. The Plaza did not seem the least altered.
In 1855 my brother one day remarked that the street above Powell had had no name long enough, and, as we lived in it, he took the liberty of naming it. There was a box with "Taylor’s" soap or candles printed on the cover lying on the ground, and taking a saw he cut the Taylor in two, nailing "Tay" up on the corner house. Strange to say, it is "Tay" Street to-day, after fifty-five years, but instead of being on the house it is painted on a lamp-post. Clay Street had the honor of having the first cable street cars, but I did not see any on my late visit.