Category Archives: The Anderson-Seton Family

A. C. Anderson’s cousins: famous and infamous

Good morning everyone — though it might not be morning when you open up this blogpost.

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Anyway, I have told you about Alexander Caulfield Anderson’s uncles and aunts, some of them quite notable. Now I will tell you about his cousins. Some were famous, many heroic, and some downright failures as human beings. You will be surprised who I include in the latter section.

I do not think I will cover all of them in this post — there are too many heroes!

Here is the first, both heroic and famous. His name was Alexander Seton and he was the eldest son of Alexander Anderson-Seton (later Seton) of Mounie — A. C. Anderson’s eldest uncle and head of the family. Though he was never in the colony of British Columbia nor even in the fur trade, his name is written large in British Columbia history. [This is Anderson Lake, British Columbia, looking west towards the coast].

Anderson Lake

Alexander Seton was born at Tottenham, Middlesex, on October 4, 1818, and he was the eldest surviving son of Alexander Seton. In November 1832 Alexander Seton purchased a commission as Second-Lieutenant in the Royal North British Fusiliers, and served in the British Army in Tasmania and India with his regiment.

In 1847 Seton was made Captain and was transferred to the 74th Highlanders, stationed in England and Ireland.  In 1852, as Lieutenant-Colonel, Alexander Seton took command of the drafts of raw recruits destined for the Cape of Good Hope, where his own regiment was already involved in the Kaffir War. Seton was 38-years-old when the paddle-wheeled iron troopship Birkenhead sailed from Ireland on January 7, 1852.

At two o’clock in the morning of February 26, the Birkenhead struck a rock in False Bay, 20 miles southeast of Cape Town, and foundered. In spite of the urgency of the situation, Seton issued his orders with perfect calm — “Women and Children First!” The crew prepared the ship’s boats and loaded the soldiers’ families into them, while the solders themselves stood at attention on the Birkenhead‘s sloping decks. The soldiers knew they were doomed, that there were not enough boats to carry them ashore and the distance was too far to swim. What was worse: there were sharks. Seton made his way to the stern of the sinking ship where he admitted to another officer he could not swim. One of Seton’s two horses made it to shore. A survivor reported that Seton had been killed by the fall of the Birkenhead‘s mast. [This is Seton Lake, looking eastward toward the Fraser River].

Seton Lake

Why is this story important to British Columbia? In 1846 Anderson explored the lakes later named Anderson and Seton Lake. In 1858 he was asked to name the two lakes. Anderson Lake he named for his own family, and Seton Lake for his cousin, Alexander Seton. The portage between the two lakes he named Birkenhead Portage — today it carries the name of Seton Portage.

So there is one Anderson-Seton hero whose name is carved into British Columbia’s history. Here is another:  his name is General Sir James Outram, the ‘Bayard of India.’ Like his Seton cousin, Outram’s name used to grace a lake in British Columbia — but Outram Lake was buried under the massive Hope Slide in 1965. Did A.C. Anderson name this lake? Yes he did. Was the lake buried by the Hope Slide the same lake that Anderson called Outram Lake? No, it wasn’t.

James Outram, son of Benjamin Outram and eccentric Margaret Anderson mentioned in a previous post, was born in 1803 and was much older than his many Anderson cousins. With the huge difference in age, A.C. Anderson could hardly have known his cousin personally, but he knew who he was. In 1845, when Anderson mentioned his cousin’s exploits in a letter to Governor Simpson of the HBC, Outram was already famous in London and India.

His childhood was probably unhappy. It was most likely toxic: his mother accused both her Outram brother-in-law and her own brother, Alexander Seton, of not supporting her family after her husband’s early death. The accusations appear false, as both supported her through the many difficult years, and Seton paid for the two boys’ education in good schools. Francis, the eldest boy, recognized his uncles’ support and thanked them: James believed his mother and cut himself off from the Anderson family entirely.

In 1819 James joined the East India Company’s Bengal Army as ensign in the 4th Native Infantry, and sailed for India on the ship York. He joined his regiment at Poona but was quickly transferred to the 12th Native Infantry and accompanied his regiment to Baroda. In December he fell sick; in Feb. 1822 he rejoined his regiment but had a narrow escape when a native boat in which he was traveling was blown up by the fireworks that Outram carried with him.

Outram performed many heroic deeds: he served in Kittur and seized the hill forts of Meywar and Joshpur.  Outram’s measures in war were always violent, but the reproofs he received were softened by compliments on his military genius, energy and sound judgment.  In other words, he was not a nice man, but he got away with it because he was always successful.

In 1836 he married his first cousin Margaret Anderson, sister of James Anderson B, HBC, but immediately rushed away to another war in India. He was made brevet major after a dangerous tour through Afghanistan when he rode through Afghanistan (never the safest place) in disguise, accompanied by only a servant and his guide, to deliver a dispatch to the Governor of Bombay. He was made Resident at Baroda, near Bombay — Residents were an important and powerful part of the political system  forced on India by the Honorable East India Company.

In 1857 Outram was back in England where the King knighted him. Shortly after he reached India again, the Indian Mutiny broke out. The mutineers massacred the British residents at the Residency of Cawnpore and besieged the Residency of Lucknow. With General Havelock, General Sir James Outram fought his way into the Lucknow Residency to relieve it from its siege, only to be besieged himself. The conditions that existed inside the Residency were horrific, with dysentery and many other diseases killing the men and women trapped there, and snipers outside the walls picking off anyone who ventured outdoors.

The second relief of Lucknow came in October 1857, and Outram finally led everyone to the safety of nearby Fort Alumbagh.

Outram was not a nice man. He disrespected his wife as much as he disrespected his Anderson cousins, and traveled India with another woman. When his cousins, half native children of Captain William Anderson (now deceased), came to him for help, he turned them away so cruelly that one committed suicide.  Though Outram said he was not in command of the expedition to Lucknow he fought every decision that General Havelock made. He was, perhaps, a bully — a natural consequence of his insecure and toxic childhood, perhaps.

To finish Outram’s story, and that of British Columbia’s Outram Lake, we again introduce fur trader and explorer, Alexander Caulfield Anderson, into the story. In Anderson’s second exploration of 1846, he paddled up the Fraser River east of Fort Langley, and followed the Coquihalla River east. [This is the Coquihalla River, immediately behind Hope, B.C.]

coquihalla river 6

Anderson and his men lunched on the banks of a river where the Coquihalla turned sharply northward, and another river — the Nicolum — flowed in from the east. They followed the Nicolum up its narrow valley, and Anderson saw that the river banks offered a soft surface for the brigade horses’ hooves. At that day’s end, he expressed his optimism that this trail might become the new route into the interior that he was looking for.

The explorers continued to follow the stream the following day, climbing over a height of land to arrive on the shore of a little lake nestled in a mountain valley. Here the country was fine and clear, with groves of large cedars and soft, mossy ground. The lakes were unnamed in Anderson’s journal of that time, nor do they appear on his 1858 map. But by the time he drew his 1867 map, Anderson had heard of his cousin’s death in France, and he named the little lake on the Sumallo River system for General Sir James Outram.

I have a lovely picture of this lake, but can’t find it. I will add it when I do. But the Outram name that Anderson gave the lake in 1867, was later transferred to the first lake that Anderson found on the Nicolum River [also called Beaver Lake]. The mountain that loomed over that lake and its valley was called Outram Mountain.  Mount Outram proved as treacherous as its namesake, General Sir James Outram. In the early morning of Saturday, January 9th, 1965, a small earthquake in the valley jiggled seismographs  throughout the Pacific Northwest. At 7 o’clock am. a second tremor hit, and a slab of rock tumbled off the northside Jackson Peak and rumbled its way into the valley below, bringing 100 million tons of debris and snow with it. It slashed across the highway burying four vehicles with passengers, and pushed hundreds of feet up the side of Mount Coulter on the valley’s south side. A gigantic wave of broken trees, mud and rocks fell down Mount Coulter into the valley, and fanning out again, buried another vehicle. When the main slide came down a Greyhound driver backed his bus madly down the valley road, saving the lives of all his passengers. 

And so two of Alexander Caulfield Anderson’s cousins made waves in British Columbia, though they were never here. The first road into the goldfields above the canyons of the Fraser River passed through Anderson and Seton Lakes, following the route that Anderson explored in 1846; a second but modern highway and its namesake lake was buried by Mount Outram and Outram Creek that tumbled down the side of the mountain. Both of these were named, indirectly, for the second Anderson cousin. There are more cousins, and some of them are very interesting. But none are so well known in British Columbia as these two. Still, I will tell you about them, in stages, as I find room for these interesting and heroic men of the Anderson-Seton family.

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The Anderson-Seton family, part one

Fur trader Alexander Caulfield Anderson was a member of the Anderson-Seton family — that is, a descendant of tenant farmer Dr.  James Anderson, LLD (1739-1808), and his noble wife, Margaret Seton. It was a close relationship: Dr. James Anderson and his wife, Margaret Seton, were Alexander Caulfield Anderson’s paternal grandparents.

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Dr. James Anderson began his life as a child of tenant farmers near Edinburgh, and took over his parents’ two farms at their death. This was a time when Scottish farmers studied agricultural science at local universities, and James attended Professor Cullen’s lectures on chemistry. Eventually Anderson sold his parents’ farms and took over uncultivated lands in Aberdeenshire, quickly making them profitable.

In 1768 James met and married the heiress of the Setons of Mounies in Aberdeenshire, who lived nearby. Margaret Seton was the daughter of George Seton of Mounie and grand-daughter of the intellectual lawyer of Sir Alexander Seton, Lord Pitmedden; she was descended from generations of noble Seton men who fought and died for their kings. She could have chosen any nobleman in the country as her husband, but she foolishly chose James Anderson.

To marry into the Seton family, Anderson had to take on the Seton name, which he did briefly and unwillingly. Margaret gave birth to the first of their many children at Monkshill, while Anderson wrote his many knowledgeable articles on farming and agriculture — so many that the University of Aberdeen granted him the degree of Doctor of Law. He was a brilliant agriculturalist, but an indifferent husband and father. Margaret inherited the estates of Mounie and the family resided in the turreted house for a short time. But in 1783, James moved his family into a rundown farmhouse at Leith, Edinburgh’s port city, to be closer to his intellectual friends. Margaret sickened and died, and their children grew up in their father’s indifferent care.

James Anderson’s unloving and neglectful care affected all the children in different ways. The children knew themselves to be gentlemen and gentlewomen descended from the fine Seton family, but all were somehow cursed by their poverty-stricken upbringing and their father’s emotional detachment.

A note here: The Anderson-Setons might have inherited a tendency to manic-depressiveness — something that appears to be a manic-depressive disorder pops up in various generations that follow, and Margaret appears to have inherited her father’s property at Mounie because her older brother was institutionalized. But we don’t know…

To continue: The eldest son, Alexander, inherited Mounie, and as he was required to take on the Seton name to inherit, he changed his name by deed poll to avoid the confusion of his having two names. He was an honorable and hardworking man who supported all the younger members of his family financially until his personal fortune was almost depleted. But, as a partner in the Wedderburn/Colvile firm in London, who traded sugar and rum from their plantations in the West Indies, he was also involved in defending the slavery upon which their personal fortunes were dependent. These are, by the way, the same Wedderburn/Colviles who were directors in the fur trade of the HBC, and Governor George Simpson (another member of that firm) knew Alexander Seton well.

The third Anderson-Seton son, John Anderson, apprenticed as an engraver under the artist Thomas Bewick. Although John learned the trade quickly and showed great promise as an artist and illustrator, he refused to do his work well, if at all, and was fired from his apprenticeship. John then set up shop in London. His work received much acclaim, but his business fell into disarray and he escaped his debts by sailing to Australia. He abandoned his vessel in South America, and died in Africa in 1807.

The fifth son, James, was a grain-merchant who owned a good sized house and sometimes consulted a craniologist, not unusual in those days. After his brother Alexander he was the most successful businessman in the family and retired well off. Despite his apparent success, James, too, sometimes borrowed money from Alexander Seton and never repaid it.

An Anderson daughter, Margaret, married civil engineer Benjamin Outram who gave her five children but died suddenly without leaving her any money to raise them. Margaret, an eccentric in her own right, accepted the legal help and money that Alexander Seton gave her. Although Seton supported her family for years and put her children through school, Margaret complained to her sons that Seton had entirely neglected her.

Henry Anderson joined the army of the East India Company and, as a Captain, led his men through a series of grueling military campaigns, including the disastrous Monson’s Retreat of 1804. In this battle the East Indian Company’s army attacked a Maratha leader they considered a robber-chief, and were forced into a two-month retreat to the safety of the city of Agra, all the while fighting off their well-armed enemy. Only a few hundred of Monson’s original force of 10,000 soldiers survived the long march, and it is probable that the appalling conditions of that running battle caused Henry’s early death. Henry was buried on his brother Robert’s indigo plantation, and a son of Henry’s came to England with Robert Anderson’s family.

The man who became Alexander Caulfield Anderson’s father was Robert, born in 1781 at his father’s farm in Monkshill. In 1799 Robert sailed for India to join the East India Company’s army, but jumped ship in Calcutta. A year later he was acting-midshipman on a Calcutta-based trading ship that sailed between India, China and Australia — a ship captained by his elder brother William. The sea did not suit Robert, and on his arrival in Australia in 1800, Captain William Anderson paid for Robert’s commission as ensign in the New South Wales Corps of the British Army.

Robert Anderson served at Port Jackson on Norfolk Island, at that time a place of confinement for the worst criminals the British Government exported to Australia. In 1804, he was reassigned to Port Dalrymple in northern van Diemen’s Land [Tasmania], where his commander sent him on a short exploration up the Anderson River — a creek which still bears his name. A short time later Anderson defended the impertinent behavior of a female convict he called his woman. In doing so, he contradicted his superior officer, who immediately sent him to Port Jackson in disgrace. Ensign Anderson promptly sold his commission and, abandoning the convict woman, sailed for India with his seafaring brother William.

By 1809, Robert had married Eliza Charlotte Simpson, daughter of a high-ranking East Indian Company civil servant who managed the Salsette mint near Bombay. By 1810 Robert owned part of an indigo plantation near Ruttanpoor, north of Calcutta. He and his business partner, Alexander Caulfield, had already produced a great deal of indigo. The demand for Bengal indigo varied, but after 1810 most indigo dye imported into England came from India rather than the West Indies. Anderson and Caulfield made their fortunes and, in 1817, Robert brought his wife and three sons home to London. Alexander Caulfield Anderson was then three years old.

We know little about Captain William Anderson who sailed an East India ship between India, China and Australia. It was probable he was smuggling opium into China (something the East India Company did] and this could have caused him some problems had he been caught. Perhaps he was caught… he died aboard his ship of liver disease while still a young man. He left behind two or more mixed-blood children in India, who carry the name Seton-Tait.  If you are a Seton-Tait in India, you are also an Anderson-Seton: talk to me.

Robert Anderson is not an uncommon name, and there were two ensigns named Robert Anderson in Australia at this time. Historians sometimes mix them up. There were also two John Andersons who were engravers in Scotland at the same time, but letters in the Mounie archives confirm the information I have about these two Anderson-Seton family members. Anderson is a very common name, which sometimes makes it difficult to research and confirm information received.

Next week I will tell you about the sons of these Anderson-Seton brothers and sisters, and you will see for yourself what astonishingly famous (or infamous) men many of them became. In this family, some of our heroes are truly heroes, and some are scoundrels. Their history takes us to India, of course, to Australia, to South Africa — and to Canada. There are a surprising number of Anderson-Seton family members in both Australia and Canada. If you are one, contact me — we share our information and stories.

Sources for much of the above information comes from:

Mary Frances Outram, Margaret Outram, 1778-1863, Mother of the Bayard of India (London, John Murray, undated)

“Sketch of the Life of Dr. James Anderson,” Gentlemen’s Magazine, December 1808, p. 1051-2

With much thanks to our English cousin (descendant of James Anderson of Bridgend, Brechin) who researched and shared much of the above information. I did not do this alone.

Alexander Caulfield Anderson; the Man behind the History

This is the talk I gave in front of a small group of people who came to the Heritage Week event at the Saanich Centennial Library, in Victoria, to celebrate “The Good Neighbour.”

Small group, perhaps, but interested! One man even took notes.

So here we go, beginning with an introduction that is common to all my talks, when I must introduce this man to people who do not know who he was. 

“Good evening, everyone, and thank you for coming tonight. I am Nancy Marguerite Anderson, the author of the book, The Pathfinder: A.C. Anderson’s Journeys in the West.

“Anderson’s full name was Alexander Caulfield Anderson. He was the Hudson’s Bay Company fur trader who, in the mid-1840’s, threaded his way through mountain passes and down rapid-filled rivers in search of a horse-friendly trail through the mountainous country that separated the Hudson’s Bay Company fort at Kamloops, from Fort Langley on the lower Fraser River. He made four explorations between the two forts, and discovered two possible horse trails — both of which by-passed the canyons and rapids of the Fraser River.

“These were exciting times! At this time, the fur traders’ traditional route to their headquarters was down the Columbia River to Fort Vancouver, which stood only one hundred miles from the mouth of the river [near Portland, OR]. However, only a few months after Anderson returned home from his second set of explorations, Native uprisings along the lower Columbia River forced the fur traders to abandon any attempt to come down the Columbia River with their furs.

“The furs must come out, however, and the trade goods must travel in. The HBC men decided to  bring the furs out to Fort Langley from Kamloops, by one of Anderson’s untested horse trails through the mountains.

“The journey out was chaotic disaster — the return journey to Kamloops no better. Horses fell from clifftops carrying valuable trade goods with them and frustrated fur traders had fist fights while French-Canadian voyageurs deserted for the California gold fields, and one man took his own life rather than tackle the return journey home.

“Anderson lived and worked through those turbulent times and the difficult years that followed. Because he played such an important role in those pivotal years — when the whole history of what would become British Columbia and Washington state was changing — he is considered by historians to be one of the most significant figures in British Columbia’s history.

“But Alexander Caulfield Anderson was my great grandfather, and I wanted to know who he was. As I researched his story, I learned things that threatened to destroy the historic and heroic fur trader who lived inside my head.

“In the end, what I learned about my ancestor transformed him from a distant historic figure, into a man, with quirks and flaws and character and kindness and courtesy — an extraordinary human being.

“And this is the man I am going to tell you about today — not the fur trader and explorer whose work changed our history, but the man who cared for others. The man who helped others, be they man or woman: Native or white man or mixed-blood; British colonists or American gold-miners or Royal Engineers.

“I will begin with a story of potato crops growing wild in the fur traders’ New Caledonia, not far from Fort Alexandria where Anderson did his most important work. New Caledonia was the area of north central British Columbia around Fort St. James, and Fort Alexandria was the southern-most post in that fur trade department. The point of land on which the fort once stood is on the Fraser River just north of Williams Lake and south of Quesnel.

“Potatoes were a staple of the fur trade, and every post grew them in their gardens. In fur trade journals there is always one French-Canadian employee who camps on the fort’s potato fields to prevent theft — because Natives, too, understood that potatoes were good food. But though the Natives ate the potatoes they stole, they did not usually grow them — or at least, not at Fort Alexandria.

“Anderson was in charge of this post from 1842 to 1848. The post was far enough north that no one could depend on their wheat crops, though it grew more reliably at Anderson’s post than anywhere else in the territory. Barley grew well at some posts, and turnips and potatoes were generally grown at all.

“But none of these crops fed the Native population, who depended on their annual root harvests, and the salmon that swam up the Fraser River by the hundreds of thousands every summer. In years when the salmon did not arrive, the Natives seemed to starve…. From The Pathfinder: “When winter finally fell and the cycle of fishing was finished, the Company men could assess whether the Natives had enough food to allow them to enjoy a good hunting season. In 1844, it seemed they did not, especially when a storm blew in at the end of October with snow and freezing temperatures. Anderson wrote of his worry about the Natives’ starving condition and what he saw as their miserable circumstances, in comparison to his relative comfort in the fort:

“”Would I could predict with honest Sir Hugh that there are pippins & cheese to come — but alas! I fear cold fingers and hunger will be the more probable lot of many in the interior, and we, who are comparatively in comfort, have reason to be thankful that we are so…. T’is a glorious privilege to be able to write nonsense now & then, when there is no censor of the press, or rather of the pen, to check one — Enough! A good fire, a warm house, & divers acceptable concomitants, with a foot of snow around one, are circumstances that may well occasion a momentary glimpse of contentment in a mind not always swayed  by cheerful emotions.”

“Honest Sir Hugh was a character in Charles Dickens, and pippins are apples. Anderson made this journal entry shortly after he watched the Alexandria Natives return to their winter houses in an early snow storm. He knew the salmon run that year had been poor and the Natives would starve. Their hunts would suffer as a result — it was not entirely sympathy for the Natives that made Anderson take his next step. In the Fort Alexandria journals of April 1846, I found that Anderson, without clearly saying so, was intentionally taking steps to teach his Native neighbours to grow their own food — something that was, for the most part, foreign to them. “Eleven Indians [are] working the soil [at our] suggestion, and I have promised to supply them seed potatoes.”

“I haven’t found this sort of thing in any other fur trade journal, but I have discovered that this one story might continue today. One of the readers of my Blogspot blog [also called Fur Trade Family History] told me the story of a patch of potatoes that grew wild in the interior at a place only fifty miles from old Fort Alexandria. They were known to have been growing wild at this spot before the gold miners arrived there in 1859 or so.

“So where did these potatoes come from? Are they descendants of the seed potatoes that Anderson gave the Alexandria Natives in 1846, so they could grow their own food every year? They could come from potatoes the early Spanish explorers dropped off among the coastal Natives, that might have worked their way into the interior via the Grease Trails. I passed the information on to the people at the Royal British Columbia Museum (one of whom was growing Nootka potatoes in his backyard) and they are trying to figure out what kind of potatoes they are, and how they got there.

“We all know the stories of the 1858 Fraser River gold rush — Anderson played an important role in this story, too. At the time the gold rush began Anderson was already retired from the fur trade and living in Cathlamet, Washington Territory. He had set up a store-keeping business like his father-in-law, James Birnie, had done. The Americans had been coming west for some years now and were settling in large numbers around Portland and Oregon City. Business would have been good, had it been allowed to happen.

“But this is a unique time in American history: the new settlers were driven west by a notion they called “Manifest Destiny.” They already owned Louisiana Territory; they had wrested Texas from the Mexicans; now they believed it was their destiny to occupy the entire North American continent, and Oregon Territory and California was theirs for the taking. Some individuals pursued their goals aggressively, and for anyone who was of British ancestry, like Anderson, life in the new Washington Territory became “uncongenial.” 

“But that was not the worst of it. In addition to the Americans’ bad treatment of the British fur traders, their treatment of the American Indians who lived here sparked one war after another, and Anderson saw his plans to build a store-keeping enterprise evaporate.

“However, one surprising opportunity did present itself — the California gold rush died down and in 1855 miners began to find gold in Eastern Washington, around modern day Spokane. Only a few years later, Americans were finding gold on the Thompson River near Kamloops. Of course, on their return they told stories of the wealth of gold found in British territories, and more gold miners clamoured for a route to these northern gold fields. 

“Anderson was the only person in the area around Portland who was known to have been to those places. So many Americans came to him for information that he wrote a book, called Guide to the Goldfields of the Fraser’s and Thompson’s River, which included a map.

“This map was printed off by the thousands and sold to all the American gold miners who flooded north and east towards Spokane House and Thompson’s River. In late 1857 gold was rumoured to be found on the Fraser, and in spring 1858 thousands of San Francisco gold miners sailed north to Fort Victoria. However, because of the seasonally high water along the Fraser River north of Yale, none of the miners could make their way into the gold fields north of the Fraser River canyons.

“Thousands of miners were stuck in Victoria, and the poor fur traders had no idea what to do with them. They thought of Anderson; John Work wrote a letter that tempted Anderson north, and when he arrived there, James Douglas put him to work.

“Anderson suggested that a good trail could be built over the route of his first expedition of 1846 — the route he had been guided over could never have worked for the fur traders who needed either a good horse road, or a safe river route. However, Anderson judged that his trail would work well for the gold miners, who would reach the Fraser River north of its barrier of rapids and falls [Hell’s Gate & Black Canyons] and who could pack in their supplies and provisions.

“So Governor James Douglas put Anderson to work supervising the building of the first trail into the gold fields of the upper Fraser River. Note: this was not the Fraser Canyon road: the Harrison Lillooet Trail led up the Fraser River to Harrison River & Lake, and the lake’s north end where the new town of Port Douglas sprang up.

“So, Anderson’s map brought thousands of gold miners north to British Territory, and his trail took them over the mountains that separated Fort Langley from the upper Fraser River. At this same time the walls of old Fort Victoria were still standing, but the first government officials were coming from England to run the two new colonies — Vancouver’s Island, and the separate colony of British Columbia being set up across the water, with its headquarters at New Westminster.

“For a few months, Anderson was acting-Collector for the Colony of British Columbia, in the absence of the official Collector. He had kept no separate set of books for British Columbia, and so all of Anderson’s records for the two colonies were handed to the new British Columbia Collector, Wymond Hamley…

“From The Pathfinder: “With limited means and no experience as an accountant, Anderson had set up the Customs House books by himself, and they had worked efficiently during the first busy months. However, Anderson had learned his bookkeeping in the fur trade, where no money existed to tempt men to steal. His system did not allow for dishonesty, but Hamley’s examination of the books revealed that eight permits issued by the Deputy Collector Charles Angelo had not been entered in the Customs House books, and the money had disappeared.”

“All hell broke loose among the new arrived British colonists! Angelo was arrested and thrown in jail and Anderson was reported to be responsible for the mess. He was removed from office, but before that was done he arranged with lawyer Henry Crease [later Judge Crease] that One hundred and fifty dollars be paid from the Custom House funds to Angelo’s wife, who was now penniless and could not feed her children. “I do this on my own responsibility,” Anderson said, “and to satisfy my own scruples on the score of humanity, for it has been intimated to me that for any payment made under present circumstances I shall be held responsible.”

“He was held responsible. This payment — much of which was owed to Mrs. Angelo — would return to haunt him many times over the years. The fur traders no longer ran the colony; the new immigrants from England did. Anderson lost his job and there was no other employment he would have considered. He was a partner in a new shipbuilding enterprise and owned farmland in North Saanich on which he was having a new house built. He made plans to move out to that remote region in the spring; in the meantime he imported a herd of 60 cattle from Oregon and put them out on the grasslands of his farm to feed.

“Anderson kept himself busy trying to make a living, but he took time out of his busy schedule to work with his Saanich neighbours clearing land for the church they would construct in the spring. He would not, however, take part in the building of St. Stephens Church. The winter of 1861-62 blew in early with frigid temperatures and deep snow that covered the ground until spring. No one in the area was well enough established to have grown a crop of hay to sell. Cows do not forage under snow for feed, and at the end of the long winter only a few head of cattle remained alive.

“This was not all. The same cold winter weather froze the waters of the Fraser River all the way from Yale to the river mouth, and by the time the ice melted, Anderson’s steamship business was dead; his large, beautiful warehouse on Wharf Street gone. He was in crisis, with no job, no business, and now no income. The fur trade had not made him wealthy. He owned property in North Saanich on which he had a large mortgage, but no livestock and no way to support himself.

“He wrote for a living, though it brought him little money. At this time the government held writing contests for essays that encouraged immigration to the new colonies. 

“At the same time, the Royal Engineers were arriving in Victoria, and they needed information on the interior of the country where they were supposed to be building roads and bridges. They were sent to Anderson for that information, and he gave it to them. He took his old travelling maps and turned them into finished maps — for example, his old travelling map of the route up the Columbia River from Fort Colvile to Boat Encampment, was transformed into the beautiful finished map of the Columbia River and Athabasca Pass. 

“In North Saanich, Anderson became the representative of the people who lived there and in South Saanich, which was then the community along Mount Newton Crossroad and in Saanichton. Good roads had been a promise made by the Government of the time, and they were now reneging on that promise. There are many letters from Anderson in the records of the Lands and Works Department [BCA] wherein he asks for repairs to the rough roads and better bridges across the many deep creeks that flowed through the area. In The Pathfinder, I describe the road as a morass of tree roots and mudholes, and his son, Walter, later described West Saanich Road. 

“”The West Road to Victoria was slowly improving, though still a very bad road as roads go. At intervals along the road were wayside inns, it being an unwritten law that a stop should be made at each one of these and a little refreshment partaken of. The most northerly of these houses was Henry Wain’s, then after a seven mile drive came the Mt. Newton Hotel, at the junction of the Mt. Newton Crossroad…. Then came the Royal Oak at the junction of the West and East roads. Beyond that the road, instead of coming in Quadra Street, as now, diverged at the far side of Christmas Hill and skirted the shore of Swan Lake, at the far corner of which stood the Swan Lake Hotel, kept by a sister of Henry Wain, and her husband…. It may seem strange to many people in this age that stops should be made at all of these places, but I can assure them that it was a boon to be able to get a glass of wine or beer, or something stronger, and very comforting to warm oneself at the big log fire on a cold winter’s day while on a long wearying drive over rough roads such as we had then.”

“From The Pathfinder: “Even while he worked as a gentleman farmer in North Saanich, Anderson continued to contribute to Victoria organizations. In 1862, members of the Immigration Committee, which encouraged settlement in British Columbia, named Anderson to its committee… In 1864 he was appointed justice of the peace and acted as coroner for the district, investigating murders and accidental deaths for the colonial government. In 1865 Anderson was called as a witness for the British government in the British and American Joint Boundary Commission hearings held in Victoria, where he gave his occupation as “gentleman.” In 1866 the new editor of the Colonist newspaper approached Anderson for information on the route to the Big Bend gold fields which were then making the news — Anderson was one of the few people in Victoria known to have been to that out-of-the-way-place.

“I can add to this paragraph that he was one of the Saanich settlers who helped to organize the Saanich Agricultural Fair, which still runs today.

“In 1866, the Colonies of Vancouver’s Island and British Columbia merged, using the name “British Columbia.” In 1871, the province became a part of the Dominion of Canada, which now called for representatives to the House of Commons. Alexander Anderson announced his intention to run for office.

“One of his competitors was local brewer Arthur Bunster. The election itself took place in Harry Wain’s roadhouse with Anderson’s 10-year-old son, Walter, acting as returning officer. On election day, Bunster distributed free beer outside the hall while Anderson watched as the tide of voters turned against him. When one of his strongest supporters entered the hall to cast his vote for Bunster, Anderson stood up and, looking the man sternly in his eye, said, “And you, too, Mr. Blank?”

“”I had never properly grasped the significance of Caesar’s dying reproachful question till that moment,” young Walter later observed. “Well, the election was over, and Bunster’s beer won the day.”

“While he resided in North Saanich from 1862 to 1876, Anderson worked on improving the lives of the Natives who lived nearby, just as he had done when he was a fur trader. For many years he was their self-appointed Doctor. He encouraged the residents of the nearby Tseycum Reserve to cultivate their clayey soil, and some soon raised pigs and cattle or farmed smaller sections of richer soil. Anderson had a particularly strong interest in grafting fruit trees, and a few of his Native neighbours even learned this agricultural craft from him, and now owned small thriving orchards.

“Anderson’s son, James, said that: “In his management of the Indians he was singularly successful, always firm in his dealing with them, he was ever ready to accede to all their just demands, while sternly refusing to abate one jot of the rights of the whites, as understood by the then rulers of the land…. Often called upon to relieve sickness or distress he was ever willing to sacrifice his time to the wants of the Natives, and so endeared himself to them so that years after he had left the scene of his active life he was remembered and spoken of in affectionate terms, even by the younger generation who only knew him by tradition. Naturally it gives me a melancholy satisfaction to bear this testimony in the memory of my father.”

“The Natives in the Interior also remembered Anderson, the fur trader. In 1876 Alexander Anderson was appointed the Dominion Representative of the Indian Reserve Commission sett up that year to settle Indian Reserves on the Coast and in the interior. The other members of the Commission were Archibald McKinlay, retired fur trader now cattle rancher, and Gilbert Malcolm Sproat, an immigrant from England. The three Commissioners work the last part of 1876 on the coast, and in the spring of 1877 the Provincial Government hustled them into the interior to settle the tribes around Kamloops, who were reported to be almost in a state of war.

“When the Commissioners arrived in Kamloops, they found the Natives all over the region were threatening to go to war. The American Indians across the border were already battling the United States Army, and Native chiefs rode north from the Spokane area to incite their Okanagan cousins to join them in their insurgency!

The Image I then showed is in my book — a coloured version of the picture of Tsilaxitsa, on page 203. “As nephew of the powerful Chief Nkwala, after whom the Nicola Valley is named, Tsilaxitsa had by 1877 become the most prominent Okanagan chief of his time. A few days after the three man Commission’s arrival in Kamloops, Anderson reported that:

“”Tsilaxitsa, the chief of the Okanagans, who when a young man travelled with me a good deal…. visited our camp to pay his respects to the Commissioners. He afterwards visited me privately at my tent, and after a good deal of conversation imparted to me the [news] … of what has recently transpired among the natives at the General Councils that have been held… He said that, in talking to me thus privately, he wished to forewarn me, for old friendship’s sake, that an unsatisfactory feeling was abroad, but that he would address the Commissioners, as a body, only after we should have visited his lands…

“”Tsilaxitsa is a man of much influence. Like the rest he is astute, and his words must be accepted with caution. Nevertheless, under the influence of an old friendship, he had probably been as frank with me, privately, as his nature will admit.”

“The private conversation between Tsilaxitsa and Anderson infuriated the third Commissioner, Sproat. But, as Anderson said, he had known Tsilaxitsa for many years. Thirty years earlier (in 1847) Tsilaxitsa and a Native I believe is his close relative, the son of Similkameen chief Blackeye, had been Anderson’s guides over what Anderson called the Similkameen Trail, up the mountainside east of modern day Boston Bar and across the plateau to the Nicola Valley. In later years it is likely that both these young chiefs acted as Anderson’s Native guides over the Coquihalla Brigade trail — as their uncle Nkwala had done for the fur traders who rode up and down the old Okanagan Trail. This was, after all, one of the long-standing traditions of the fur trade.

“The Indian Reserve Commissioners returned to Victoria at the end of 1877, and Anderson, who had two jobs for the Dominion Government, continued his work as Fisheries Inspector, travelling up and down the coast from the Nass River to the new canneries set up at the mouth of the Fraser River. In his work, Anderson protected both the fish resources, and the fishermen themselves — including the Natives and their traditional fisheries.

“Here is an example of his work: One year the canneries received so many fish they could not can them all, and the excess fish were discarded on the beach and left to rot. To prevent such waste in future years, Anderson arranged that if the canneries again had an excess of fish delivered to them, they would give the extra salmon to their Native neighbours to smoke and preserve for their winter supply.

“Anderson also collected and shipped to London, England, samples of cans of salmon now produced in British Columbia, and many pieces of Native art, canoes, and fishing gear. All items that survived the watery journey to England were exhibited in the massive International Fisheries Exhibition held in London in 1883. This Exhibition provided a tremendous boost for the British Columbia salmon canning industry, and the minister of the Canadian Marine & Fisheries Department reported to Anderson on the many gold awards the province won:

“”Some specimens certainly received much attention,” the Minister wrote. “The salmon for their huge size — the tinned salmon for the fine display made by the Government…. and the Indian fishing gear for its grotesque appearance. Our Indian from New Brunswick who has his birch bark canoe did not like the fancy cedar canoe you sent. I put him in it one day in his pond and he came near upsetting and could not paddle it like his own birch. He soon came ashore and said, “Only damn fool Indian use that kind of canoe.”

“How many of you from Victoria like to walk in Beacon Hill Park? Did you know that Alexander Anderson is one of the men responsible for preserving the park as it is — a non-commercial park? In 1883 Judge Matthew Baillie Begbie wrote the trust that outlined the rules for the use of the park, a trust which prohibited profit making activities, including the erection of sponsorship signs.

“Anderson’s son, James, said this about his father: “He was always in the front rank in raising his voice against any invasion of the rights of the public. Just prior to his death he warmly opposed the erection of an Agricultural Hall in Beacon Hill Park, which was being advocated by some ill-advised people, and he took up the question with the government.” On April 10th, 1884, the Daily Colonist published Anderson’s letter: In it he declared that constructing an agricultural hall in the park was “a barbarous proposal” that “will be strenuously opposed by many who have the improvement of the city and the conservation of its natural attractions sincerely at heart.”

“However, not everyone is happy about this today. I have an article from a 2005 newspaper titled: “The Land that Fun Forgot.” Again, a modern group is fuming because they cannot raise funds in the public park… So thank Judge Matthew Baillie Begbie, who drew up the original trust, and Alexander Caulfield Anderson, for keeping Beacon Hill Park a park. this is history: I have said this many times over. History does not just happen and go away: it’s always here. We are surrounded by it.

“I told you at the beginning that Alexander Caulfield Anderson was my great grandfather, and I wanted to know who he was. One of the questions I often asked was — was he a drunk? 

“You will remember the story of Anderson stopping at every road house for a restorative drink on his way into town from North Saanich. I have another that didn’t make it into the book, where Anderson tripped and fell on one of the rough boardwalks that Victoria had at the time. He suffered a bad cut on his face, and bystanders picked him up and carried him into a drinking house. Did he trip because he drank?

“I considered that because of his fur trade past, Anderson probably drank more than most of us today consider reasonable. Perhaps more than the new English immigrants considered wise — after all, Indian Reserve Commissioner Gilbert Malcolm Sproat criticized both McKinlay and Anderson for “being drunk in front of the Indians they represented” at Savona’s Ferry in 1877.

In the story that follows, I found the answer to that question. In the late 1870’s San Francisco historian Hubert Howe Bancroft came to Victoria to research the history of the territory, and interviewed many retired HBC men. Bancroft wrote of his Victoria visit later, and said of Anderson:

“”But more than to any other in Victoria, I feel myself indebted to Mr. A. C. Anderson, a man not only of fine education, but of marked literary ability, of poetic temperament, chivalrous in thought as well as in carriage, of acute observation and retentive memory he proved to be the chief and standard authority on all things relating to the country. He had published several works of value and interest, and was universally regarded as the most valuable living witness of the past. Tall, symmetrical, and very erect, with a long narrow face, ample forehead, well brushed white hair, side whiskers, and keen, light blue eyes, he looked the scholar he was. Scarcely allowing himself an interruption, he devoted nearly two weeks to my work with such warm cheerful and gentlemanly courtesy as to win our hearts… He took luncheon with us every day, smoked incessantly, and drank brandy and soda temperately.”

“It was my project to discover who Alexander Caulfield Anderson was, and I think I accomplished this. I found a man who cared for his Native neighbours, by ensuring they could grow food, such as potatoes, to support them when the salmon fisheries failed.

“As to the gold rush — his map brought the gold miners north and his trail took them into the gold fields, more or less in safety. Anderson ensured that a woman, whose husband was in jail and whose children would have starved without his interference, received money that was owed to her — enough money that would support her and her family if she were careful.

“In Saanich he helped to clear the land to build the local church, and acted for his Saanich neighbours in getting roads improved and burned out bridges replaced. He helped the Royal Engineers by drawing maps that led them into the interior that he knew well, and where they would build their roads and bridges. His later maps took a new batch of gold miners to the mines in the Omineca, or on the Big Bend of the Columbia River.

“He tried, unsuccessfully, to represent Vancouver Island district in Ottawa. I think he would have made a very good representative.

“As we know, relations between the Natives of today are not so friendly as they used to be, when the fur traders were in the Interior. Tsilaxitsa considered Anderson a friend — as far as it was possible for a Native man of his time to be friends with a white man that represented a government that was trying to take the land from his people. Anderson’s final neighbourly act still lives today in his defense of keeping Beacon Hill Park a park, rather than allowing agricultural buildings to be constructed in it. He died 129 years ago, only a month or so after he wrote this letter. He had no personal interest in whether or not Beacon Hill Park remained a park, and he would probably never walk through it again. But if you live in Victoria, you do — and you can remember that Alexander Caulfield Anderson helped to keep this park safe for you.