Some Reminiscences of old Victoria

by Edgar Fawcett

One day he got up suddenly in his seat and said: "Mr. Burr, I am going home and I want Fawcett to go with me; that will be all right, won’t it?"

"Now, Master James," said Mr. Burr, "I cannot allow this; I must protest against this going away during school hours. If His Excellency only knew, what would he say?"

"Oh, that will be all right, Mr. Burr."

"No, no, James, it is not all right, and as for Fawcett going with you I cannot allow it, Master James; heed me or I must have a word with Sir James about you."

All this time James was standing up at his desk with his riding-whip in his hand, and making signs for me to follow, which I proceeded to do, the master protesting all the time. I got my reward next day, but not as bad as I would have got had not good Mrs. Burr come to my rescue. We drove to Upland Farm, then the home of City Clerk Leigh and his family, at Cadboro Bay. Mrs. Leigh was always good to James and I on these visits to the farm, getting us the best to eat and plenty of fresh milk to drink. By some understanding between Sir James and Mr. Burr we continued these afternoon drives, and it may be imagined how we boys enjoyed them. We continued friends to the last, and years after I worked like a beaver when he was elected a member of the Legislature for Victoria City. He was godfather to my eldest son, who was named after him. I have still a handsome book given me by Sir James at the last break-up of school before I left.

We now and then hear complaints by prudish people of the boys bathing on Victoria Arm, on Deadman’s Island and elsewhere without a full bathing suit. What would they say to the boys of my time bathing in Nature’s suit only, and that on the waterfront from James Bay bridge all around to the Hudson’s Bay Company’s wharf? We bathed there at all times, and to our heart’s content, and never was exception taken to it by the authorities, or in fact by anyone. Use is second nature, and I suppose that accounted for it.

Have any of my readers ever seen Deadman’s Island (the island which is opposite Leigh’s mill) when it was covered with trees and shrubs? Well, up these trees were corpses of Indians fastened up in trunks and cracker boxes, but mostly trunks, the bodies being doubled up to make them fit in the trunk, and then suspended like Mahomet’s coffin between heaven and earth. There were also some Indians buried in the shallow soil and surrounded by fences, and again boxes of corpses were piled one on top of the other. This island was a favorite place of the school boys as a rendezvous for swimming, and many a summer’s afternoon and Saturday have I spent there in the good old days gone by.

I shall now relate an incident of one of these expeditions to the island by myself and three others. I can recollect the names of only two members of the expedition of that Saturday, and I might say that they were my schoolfellows of the Collegiate School, which occupied the site of Mr. Ellis’s residence on Church Hill, and was afterwards burnt down. I left the Colonial School in 1860, and transferred to the Collegiate School, which was conducted as a church institution. Rev. C. T. Woods was principal, with Rev. Mr. Reese, "Cantab." Williams, and Messrs. Vincent and Palmer, French and drawing and music, as the full staff. Well, about the Deadman’s Island affair. One Saturday afternoon in midsummer four of us—Robert Branks, a brother of Mrs. Doctor Powell, William Galley, James Estall and a fourth whose name I cannot now remember hired a boat at Lachapelle’s, near James Bay Bridge, and made for Deadman’s Island. We enjoyed the luxury of running about the island like the savages on Robinson Crusoe’s island, then dived into deep water, swam around for a time and landed to dry and warm ourselves at a fire we had made for that purpose. All boys know that a fire is indispensable to swimming and bathing.

While squatting on the ground around the fire the idea struck me that by the way the wind was blowing it would not need much encouragement for the fire to take hold of some of the boxes of bones, which may have represented an Indian chief, his wife or child. I then proposed that we accidentally on purpose "set fire to the whole lot." After a council of war it was finally decided to carry out my suggestion, as a grand wind-up of our day’s outing. Time after time we dived off, and swam around till tired, and then came ashore to dry ourselves at the fire. This is the exact routine of boys’ swimming expeditions of these present days, and will be to the end of all time. We got tired of it at last and dressed, preparing to go home, when the subject of the firing of the Indian corpses was again discussed. Should we do it or not? Robert Branks was with me all right, but one boy was fearful of the consequences. "The chief and all the Indians on the Songhees reserve would soon see the fire and would be after us." There was something in this, for there were hundreds then, where there are now dozens, and it was risky.