By James K. Nesbitt
It was the autumn of 1896 and some well-known Victorians were preparing their luggage for Europe. At both Point Ellice and Craigdarroch Castle packing for trips was nothing new... the O'Reillys and the Dunsmuirs were constantly back and forth between here and Europe. Still, to get to London from Victoria in those days was not like throwing a few things into a bag or two and reaching London in 10 hours.
At Craigdarroch, Sir Richard Musgrave and his wife, a daughter of Mrs. Robert Dunsmuir, mistress of the castle, had been visiting for some months. Their wedding at the Castle in 1891 was a great society event, and now they were back in Victoria six years later with their five-year-old daughter, Joan, and with them was a children's nurse and a personal maid, and two friends from Ireland, Miss Murray and Miss Payne.
Lady Musgrave, as Jessie Dunsmuir, and Kathleen O'Reilly of Point Ellice House had been girlhood friends in Victoria, and it was arranged that Miss O'Reilly, who had already been several times to Europe, should accompany the Musgrave party, too, was Lady Musgrave's youngest daughter sister Euhphemia, called Effie; the youngest of the eight Dunsmuir daughters, Maude was already in Europe.
Miss O'Reilly had relations galore in the British Isles, among them her Uncles Joe and John Trutch, her mother's brothers. Both had lived in Victoria: Joseph W. Trutch had been first lieutenant governor of British Columbia in 1871. His wife had died in Victoria, and he had gone home to England to spend his declining years. John Trutch had married Zoe Musgrave, sister of the last colonial governor of British Columbia, and Miss O'Reilly was anxious to see them all, and the John Trutch daughter Charlotte, who was her first cousin, and very much younger.
There was nothing in the news papers about this grand tour, in the grand manner, and we only know of it through the letter of Miss O'Reilly, now preserved in the Provincial Archives.
The party set off one October day, nearly 70 years ago, on the afternoon steamer to Seattle. Miss O'Reilly had never been there before, and she was impressed by the young and bustling city. She wrote home from Seattle's Rainier Grand Hotel; "We arrived here after a most delightful trip. This is such a grand hotel. We saw very little of Sir Richard on the way over. The streets and shops are so large and splendid. You really ought to come over and see Seattle. I hope you will not worry about me. I will try and write on the train."
And so she did, every day on the long journey across the continent t o New York.
She described the railway accommodation; "We have five sections to ourselves. Jessie, Joan and the maid share the drawing room. Sir Richard has a lower berth - what we have seen of the country is most uninteresting - flat and dreary - we do not think the meals in the dining car are very good. The others say not half as good as the CPR.
"I think this line must be very well made, for it is very smooth, considering how fast we go, about 20 miles an hour, I believe.
"I hope dear mother's cold is better - if it does not get well quickly she ought to go to Seattle for a change of air. It is such a large place, so bright, with streets and shops like a large city."
In New York City the party put up at the Waldorf, then much farther downtown than now - at the corner of Fifth and 33rd Street. That night Miss O'Reilly wrote home to Point Ellice House; "It took ages to collect all the luggage at Grand Central Station, and then we drove here, to the Waldorf, as the Brunswick Hotel had been closed to two months. Sir Richard seems to have had no trouble about anything, and treats it as a great joke having to look after such a large party of ladies.
"It is a good thing, I fancy, that we are to be here only one night, as I think it must be very expensive. It is a palace of splendor and luxury, and crowded with very smart people. I went out with Jessie and Effie to some shops - Sir Richard went off immediately to the White Star office, and tells us he has arranged satisfactorily about berths, etc.
"We all dined at Delmonic's as Sir R's guests - a very good dinner, but hardly any people there. We returned to the Waldorf, and it was crowded, and a lovely band was playing on the staircase. The only mishap I have had is that the bottle of eau de cologne leaked out of the silver case."
Came the transfer in horse-drawn cabs from the Waldorf to the White Star dock on the Hudson River; the Musgrave party were shown to their cabins, and Miss O'Reilly dashed off a card to her parents in Victoria: "We have just started, and this is to go back with the pilot from Sandy Hook. There are very few passengers on board, only about 40 first class. I have a very nice e cabin to myself - we have just passed the statue of Liberty - we have just passed the Majestic going into New York - Miss Arrowsmith, the tennis player, is aboard-."
Every day during the 10-day voyage to Liverpool, Miss O'Reilly wrote a letter home.
Here are excerpts from those letters: "I am enjoying the voyage, but I am afraid very few of the other passengers are - they have nearly all been ill - with the exception of Sir R. and the little girl (Joan) and self, all our party went down like nine pins, and so it was a little dreary for me. Jessie and the nurse were so wretchedly ill one day that Sir Richard and I had to take care of Joan. Effie, Miss Murray and Miss Payne were all very ill for several days. They are all on deck now, though the last two do not venture to meals in the saloon as yet.
"I really felt I was most uninteresting to be so well and hungry. I have not missed a meal, and at times there have been only nine passengers at the captains table.
"The passengers are not at all interesting. There are people called Pemberton, who have twin boys, two and a half years old - they are always crying. Mr. Young, a rancher, lost 20 pounds playing Cards in the smoking room with Sir R. - rather dreadful don't you think? Miss Arrowsmith has been very seasick, but has recovered, and is very skittish."
There were some good days on the voyage, but everyone was glad to get into the Mersey, dock in Liverpool and set off by boat train for London. Miss O'Reilly wrote home that night from Bailey Hotel, in the Gloucester Road: "I feel quite dazed with the travelling, and do not realize that I am here. I had a hot bath soon after dinner, and was glad to go to bed. From the glimpse I had of London, driving from the station to the hotel, it looked just the same - it seems ages since we left Victoria."
Soon Miss O'Reilly was calling on her Uncle Joe, by then Sir Joseph Trutch, and he took her off to a house party at a country estate in Devonshire, and from there more letters were written to Point Ellice House in Victoria:
"Uncle Joe said he would teach me to ride the bicycle, as he is a professor in that way, and he is looking forward to taking me to see Charlotte at her school. I hear from everyone that she is so bright and clever but brimful of mischief and fun, and very large and stout and they she does just what she likes with her father.
"Uncle Joe does enjoy it here - I did not like coming without some new clothes, but though these people are rich, and have plenty of servants, and thousands of acres of land, they are quite unpretentious, and I find my old black serge with the leather just the thing for walking here - the men all dress for dinner, and the ladies wear skirts and blouses, so you can imagine me just as I was in the evenings at home, and I wear my sailor hat, as everyone does here, when I go out.
"I am so glad to have mother's letter, and am much relieved to hear the new maid has been successful so far - I was afraid before I left that she would be too grand for us- I am delighted to hear that you had a little dinner party, and I hope you will often, if the maid is good. She ought to arrange everything, and save dear mother from doing too much. I am afraid you were all overtired with the exertion of packing me up.
"People here seem to be crazy about wearing sables and ermine. All the dresses are red, green or violet, and the hats white felt, or red."
After a busy round in London, Miss O'Reilly crossed the Irish Sea for the Musgrave home. By then it was February of 1897, and away she went again into a social whirl, highlight of which was her presentation to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Lord Cadogan, at Dublin Castle. This was looked upon as next best as being presented at Buckingham Palace to Queen Victoria herself.
Miss O'Reilly wrote from the Musgrave home, Tourin, Cappoquin, near Lismore station 'n Country Waterford: "I wore to the drawing-room at the castle my white ball dress, which is covered with sparkles, and trimmed with lilies of the valley, and a train. It was so very young looking a girl of 17 could have worn it (she was then 29).
"I was rather nervous about the ordeal of being presented, and had so many instructions about curtsying first, and then presenting your left cheek for the Lord Lieutenant to kiss, and I was told to do it very slowly, as some people get so frightened that they rush past.
"I gave my card to the officer at the Throne Room door, who said 'curtsy first, won't you,' in a sort of sympathizing tone, and then I heard my name being simply shouted, which was rather disconcerting in itself, but when I got in front of Lord Cadogan, a man in the party said "The young lady from British Columbia,' and one of the aides performed a sort of war dance. I entirely forgot about the kissing, and His Excellency seized my hand and drew me toward him - they say he never kisses anyone, which is really very wise of him - then I made my bow to her Excellency and passed on. She smiled very sweetly, and when Sir Richard told her at the ball how I had been half-frightened and half-amused at the conduct of that aide, she said she was very much annoyed, and said she wished she knew who had done it.
"The 'drawing-room' was a very pretty sight- the rooms and corridors of the castle are simply beautiful and perfect for entertaining. I daresay father knows them. Lord Cadogan is a dear little man, and she is sweet looking, but they seemed tired, for they entertained constantly.
"I enjoyed the small dance at the Castle more than the ball in St. Patrick's Hall - Mr.Power seemed bound to introduce partners to me, and brought some very swagger ones. I danced with a Capt. Vane. who. I was told, was a great catch. I did not catch the names of the other people who were introduced to me, and I think now it was awfully stupid of me, as it would be much more interesting to know who one had been talking to, though at the time of the dance it did not seem to matter.
"There were some magnificent dresses and diamonds, and some beautiful women, but not so many of the latter - some of them were hideous, and some of them were dowdy. And I did not see a prettier or better turned out girl than Maud Dunsmuir - Effie had a costly and elaborate gown of blue and silver - Effie has simply been on the go since she came here - the people here seem to think she is rather mad to hunt all day and dance all night, any spare time being filled up by bicycling 'at home' dinners and skating. She says she has never had such a good time in her life."
Much of all this may be trivia and small talk, but these are historically valuable because they give us a picture of the life of a well-to -do, upper class young lady of the late gay 1890s.
