PREFACE

To My Readers:—

A preface is, as I understand it, an explanation, and maybe anapology, for what follows. If such is the case, I must explainseveral things contained in these "Reminiscences of Old Victoria" andits pioneers. Had I not been laid aside with the typhoid some eightyears ago, it is likely I should not have thought of writing downthese early memories, but many know what convalescing after asickness is—how one longs for something new, something to do. I wasat this time at the seaside, and all at once decided to pass my timein writing. Seated comfortably on the beach with my writing pad, Icommenced "A British Boy’s Experiences in San Francisco in the EarlyFifties," and so have continued on from time to time during the lasteight years.

I have been much encouraged, by pioneers and friends, to gather theresult of these pleasant labors together, and I feel I have succeededin a very imperfect manner; but, dear reader, consider how little Ishould be expected to know of book-making; therefore take faults andomissions in the product of my labors cum bona venia, forthere are sure to be many imperfections. There are repetitions ofwhich I am aware, and have decided to let them stand, as I think theyfit in in each case. Had I been a man of more leisure I should nothave had to apologize for so many of these imperfections.

p.4

I have to thank Mrs. Macdonald, of Armadale, the venerable BishopCridge, and Alexander Wilson, for valuable information, and also Mr.Albert Maynard and Reverend A. E. Alston for many photographs toillustrate the book. We all know that a book in these days is nothingwithout pictures. There are others who have helped me in other wayswho will accept my thanks.

With these explanatory remarks, and in fear and trembling, I submitthe book to your favorable consideration.

Dingley Dell,
   Christmas, 1911.

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A SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHY

All the Fawcetts I ever heard of from my father and mother came fromKidderminster. My father’s father was a maltster, and the sons, withthe exception of my father, the youngest, were carpet weavers. Thefamily were strict Nonconformists, and produced one or two noteddivines of George the Third’s day, one of whom preached before thatking. There was also a kinship with the Baxters of "Saint’s Rest"fame.

My mother was Jane Wignall, whose father was a Birmingham smallarmsmanufacturer in rather a large way of business, but who through thedishonesty of his partner was nearly ruined and brought tocomparative poverty. The daughters, who were all well educated, hadto take positions as governesses and ladies’ companions. My mother,in this capacity, lived and travelled in France and Spain, and spokethe languages of both countries. In a voyage to her home fromBarcelona she was wrecked in the Gulf of Lyons, but through thetimely assistance of a Spanish gentleman and his Newfoundland dog,who bore her up, she was brought to shore in little more than hernightdress. I have to-day a letter from the British consul atMarseilles which he gave to my mother, recommending her to

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