Some Reminiscences of old Victoria

by Edgar Fawcett

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHRISTMAS IN PIONEER DAYS.

"... 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, a charm 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 snowballs thrown 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!"

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 expensive dolls 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, and Mrs. 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.)