PIONEER SOCIETY'S BANQUET.
Some Reminiscences.
On the 28th April, 1871, or forty-one years ago, a meeting was held
in Smith's Hall, which was situated in the building now occupied by
Hall and Gospel on Government Street. The meeting was called to
organize a society of the pioneers of British Columbia, and
especially of Victoria. Among those present, and one who took a
prominent part in its work, was William P. Sayward. By the death of
this pioneer I am the sole remaining member of those who founded the
society. By Mr. Sayward's death this city and province loses a man
whom any city would be proud of. Knowing him as I had from boyhood, I
can speak feelingly. He was one of the kindest-hearted men, a man who
had no enemies that I ever heard of, but hosts of friends. Who ever
went to him for charity and was refused? Who ever asked forgiveness
of a debt and was repulsed? Although he was victimized many times, in
his case virtue was its own reward. From small beginnings, when the
lumber business was first started on Humboldt Street, on the shores
of James Bay, to the present time, the Sayward business has gone on
prospering, having been built on a firm foundation by a kindly and
honest man, who in February, 1905, passed from our sight to a better
life. The society elected as its first officers the following:
President, John Dickson; vice-president, Jules Rueff; treasurer,
E. Grancini; secretary, Edgar Fawcett; directors, W. P. Sayward,
H. E. Wilby, Alexander Young, and Sosthenes Driard. Long may the
society continue. Mr. Sayward's son, Joseph, has since his father's
death disposed of the business, of which he became the owner, to
a large corporation, and has retired from business, one of our
wealthy men.
[Portrait: William P. Sayward.]
Nothing better illustrates what I feel to-day, as the last of the
charter members who met together at Smith's Hall, on Government
Street, over Hall & Gospel's office, on the 28th April, 1871, than
the following lines from my favorite poet, Thomas Moore:
"Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
"When I remember all
The friends so linked together
I've seen around me fall,
Like leaves in wintry weather.
"I feel like one who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted;
Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead--
And all but he departed."
I have applied this to my visit to Smith's Hall, of which I shall
tell you. Since the death of my old friend, William P. Sayward, some
months ago, I have reflected often on the fact that I was the last of
that little band. The other night I woke up, and remained awake for
some time; and my thoughts wandered to pioneer days, and from that to
the gathering of pioneers this year, which, I understood, was to be
a more extended gathering than usual. I thought I should like to be
there for the sake of old times, but could not make up my mind to
brave the disagreeable weather at this time of year.
After considering the matter, I decided to write, if I did not go;
and, further, I decided to pay a visit to Smith's Hall first. So next
morning I called on Mr. Kinsman, who kindly showed me upstairs, and
over the old place. I might well say, "the old place," for it looked
old and deserted, like the banquet hall spoken of by Moore.
With my mind's eye I pictured the scene of thirty-five years ago--I
was at the hall early, being enthusiastic on the subject, and noted
each well-known face as the guests came up the stairs and took their
seats, until about forty had collected.
There was Thomas Harris, who had been the first mayor of the city. He
was very stout, and complained of the exertion in climbing up the
stairs, which was passed off as a joke, of course.
There was Major McDonell, a retired army officer; Robert H. Austen, a
pioneer of San Francisco, whose uncle, Judge Austen (an early
resident), had been a prominent member of the "vigilance committee"
of San Francisco in the early fifties, when men were tried by that
committee, condemned to death, and hanged, as I myself was a witness
to on two occasions.
There was William P. Sayward, the father of Joseph Sayward, and one
of the best men Victoria ever produced; Patrick McTiernan, a
well-known business man; Captain Gardner, one of Victoria's pilots;
Henry E. Wilby, father of the Messrs. Wilby of Douglas Street,
who was Portuguese Consul, and a resident of Esquimalt; Jules Rueff
and E. Grancini, both Wharf Street merchants; Andrew C. Elliott, a
barrister, and afterwards premier of the province; Honore Passerard,
a Frenchman and property holder of Johnson Street; Robert Ridley, who
claimed he was the original "Old Bob Ridley" who crossed the plains
to San Francisco in '49; Felix Leslonis, the Hudson's Bay Company's
cooper, who was a Frenchman, and used to sing a song called "Beau
Nicolas" at charity concerts, and usually brought down the house.
There was S. Driard, another Frenchman, and proprietor of the Driard
House, and who being, like Mayor Harris, very corpulent and
asthmatic, complained, like him, of the "upper room"; James Wilcox,
the proprietor of Royal Hotel, now proved to have been the "second"
brick hotel built in Victoria; William Spence, a contractor, and
after whom Spence's Rock was named; John Dickson, the tinsmith and
hardware man of Yates Street--a quiet, goodhearted man, an American;
James Lowe, a Wharf Street merchant, of Lowe Bros.; Frank Campbell,
of "Campbell's Corner"--genial, goodhearted Frank, a man without an
enemy; Thomas L. Stahlschmidt, of Henderson & Burnaby, Wharf Street
merchants, and father of Mr. Stahlschmidt, of R. Ward & Co.
There were Robert Burnaby, already mentioned; J. B. Timmerman,
accountant and real estate agent, a Frenchman; Benjamin P. Griffin,
mine host of the Boomerang, who had been a friend of my father's in
Sydney, Australia, and was accountant in a bank there; and lastly,
your humble servant, who was secretary of the meeting. There were
others present, but they did not see fit to become members, among
them being Ben Griffin.
As I said before, they passed in review before me as I stood there
thinking; and to-day I think no one lives to tell the tale of that
gathering.
I am fully in accord with the suggestion that there be a reunion of
all pioneers of early Victoria; but I think it should be in the
summer, when as many as possible could be there, and it might be made
very interesting by a recital of the personal recollections of those
present. I should like to hear Mr. Higgins, for I am sure he has not
yet told all he knows of the early history of Victoria.