We can learn about a place in books from all types of perspectives — from architecture to Black culture, fiction or nature, but how about from sordid and raunchy behaviour, which Victoria had in spades about 150 years ago!
Warning to readers: The following contains bawdiness, unbecoming lasciviousness and an abundance of smutty conduct. Discretion is advised.
Let’s begin with saloons.
Aqua Vitae by Glen A. Mofford (2016, TouchWood Editions) describes the numerous saloons that once graced Victoria — primarily downtown — between 1851 and 1917. Not all drinking establishments were raunchy, but some, such as the Pony Saloon on Government Street, were more flagrant and rowdy than others. Assault and robbery were common in the back alleys, and at one point, someone died and the “body was disposed of in a most undignified manner,” along with its decimated skull, under the floorboards.
It remains a cold case to this day, but may have had something to do with a red-haired lady.
Many of these old saloon buildings still stand — for example, the James Bay Inn, formerly the Lushes Park Hotel, in my neighbourhood — and they make for an interesting theme for a stroll. The book provides detailed maps and background stories.
The Lushes Park Hotel had a connection to Emily Carr’s family, who lived nearby. William Lush purchased the property from Emily’s father, Richard Carr, but problems arose when Lush and his wife applied for a liquor licence, which he obtained (much to Mr. Carr’s dismay) after a couple of attempts and a lengthy petition of support.
Emily wrote: “Hacks filled with tipsy sailors and noisy ladies drove past our house … it hurt father right up till he was seventy years old when he died.”
An amusing advertisement for the Hotel Prince George at the corner of Pandora Avenue and Douglas Street reads: “It Looks Like a Hotel, Outside and Inside.” Hmmmmm.
This leads me to our next — some may say unsavoury, albeit often tragic — subject, Victoria Unbuttoned, A Red-Light History of B.C’s Capital City, by historian and fine writer Linda J. Eversole (TouchWood Editions, 2021).
You may recall the author’s previous book about the stubborn and notorious Stella. This story covers the world’s oldest profession in more detail and introduces you to many more characters, including a well-known madam, Lillian Gray, who (referring to her mug shot) “always took a good picture … and even in her lowest moment, she still pulled it off with style. She managed to get a hint of movement in the final frame, likely to make sure the record was blurred.”
These women had to endure perpetual prosecution and abuse — most of their lives were spent at the police station or in court having to listen to outrageous and flamboyant pontifications such as: “One bad woman in the community is worse than having bubonic plague, rabies, smallpox, scarlet fever and diphtheria together,” to which the judge replied: “That’s pretty bad.”
Many sordid and morbid tales are told in the very readable Amazing Stories series, published by Heritage House, recognized by its glossy turquoise covers.
Do you recall a few years back when a sharp-eyed border official in Ontario noticed a fellow’s jeans moving awkwardly around his nether regions as he nervously tried to enter Canada?
It was discovered that he was smuggling an abundance of baby turtles into Canada and he had taped and strapped the little creatures to his upper thighs and groin area.
If you enjoy reading about early smuggling exploits, you will enjoy Smugglers of the West, Tales of Contraband and Crooks by Rosemary Neering (2011).
British Columbia Murders, Notorious Cases and Unsolved Mysteries by Susan McNicoll (2010) describes six sometimes gruesome death scenes, exhumations and forensic procedures, including a husband who slowly poisoned his wife with arsenic. Weed killer was found under his kitchen sink and “about three ounces were missing from the can.” He also had a girlfriend.
This story is particularly interesting because it happened relatively recently in Vancouver, in the 1960s, and has connections to sites and people we may recognize, such as the radio station CKNW and the enormous neon BowMac sign on West Broadway.
The Law and the Lawless (two books), Frontier Justice in British Columbia and Yukon, 1858-1911 and 1913-1935 respectively, edited by Art Downs (2014), is a collection of stories of shootouts, duels, murders, drunken brawls, hangings and other horrors.
Arthur Ellis was the public executioner of Canada in 1913, and very skilled at the job — known best for the speed of the deed. He proudly boasted that his hanging of “the Flying Dutchman” — a murderer who killed his last victim in Union Bay — was completed in a mere 47 seconds, 11 seconds less than the old record, set by his uncle.
In case you feel we are falling from grace these days with all our societal troubles, read these books and your perspective may alter.
On the other hand, since history does have a way of repeating itself, it’s probably wise not to have rat poison or weed killer in your home.
