Rev. Robert Staines, Preacher, Teacher, Troublemaker
To his superiors he was a rebel, a troublemaker and a bore; to his students he was a stern taskmaster whose word was law and whose temper, uncertain at best of times, was to be avoided at all costs.
Still, he left his name on our maps.
Fort Victoria when the Rev. Staines was its schoolmaster. —Author’s Collection
Historians views the Rev. Robert John Staines as being something between a martyr for democracy and a pompous ass.
Whatever Staines’s true claim to fame there’s no denying that, during his brief and stormy tenure as chaplain and schoolmaster for the Hudson’s Bay Company, there were few dull moments in the Fort Victoria of 170-odd years ago.
A “Don Quixote in broadcloth,” as one writer has colourfully described him, Staines’s English background must have suggested anything but a rebel and “fomentor of mischief” to his new employer when he was accepted for duty in outpost Vancouver island, half a world away.
Thirty years of age, married, and a Cambridge graduate, his previous teaching experience had been gained at Derby Grammar School. Although a classical and brilliant scholar, Staines originally lacked the main requirement for the colonial posting: that he be a man of the cloth.
He easily surmounted this obstacle (thereby demonstrating himself to be a man of adaptability), by applying for and receiving holy orders. Thus armed, he obtained the dual position as HBC post chaplain (for 100 pounds annually) and as as schoolteacher to the children of the fort for 340 pounds per annum, the former stipend to be paid by the company, the latter to be the responsibility of the students’ parents.
As Mrs. Staines also was a qualified teacher, this arrangement included her instruction of the fort’s young ladies.
Little, unfortunately, is known of Staines’s background in the Old Country beyond the fact that he had proved himself a gifted scholar. Likely, his parents (“nothing of consequence,” according to one caustic historian,) were of limited means and status, the young Staines having had to earn his university entrance through hard work and high marks; perhaps his obvious abilities attracted the notice of a wealthy sponsor.
Whatever the case, he graduated from Cambridge University with honours and secured a teaching position at Derby Grammar School, the post he held when he learned of the opening in far-off Fort Victoria.
But if full particulars as to Robert Staines’s family and early career are lacking, it’s possible to form a vivid mental image of the 30-year-old preacher-teacher who eventually found his way to isolated Vancouver Island.
His actions and manner soon revealed him to be vain, arrogant and ambitious—in short, a man of limited means but of unlimited energy and great pretensions.
This isn’t to say, however, that he wasn’t a sympathetic figure. Rather, he has left the impression of a rather pathetic character unable to obtain the material and social rewards that he thought his education and abilities warranted, Continually thwarted in his attempts to achieve all that he was sure he was capable of—and entitled to—Staines’s adult life seems to have been one of frustration and, ultimately, tragedy.
Perhaps the most revealing glimpse at the real Rev. R.J. Staines was that provided during the voyage from England to Victoria, a humiliating episode which, we can imagine, never failed to amuse his critics in Victoria.
Despite the fact that they left outstanding debts in England, the Staines’s weren’t alone during the outbound voyage, being accompanied by two servants. Upon reaching the Hawaiian (or Sandwich) Islands, Staines decided that, like all good tourists, he’d like to meet “the king of the cannibal isles” and, for the occasion, outfitted his manservant in splendid new livery.
Dressed in conservative broadcloth, as befitted his ministerial calling, Rev. Staines and his brightly costumed servant announced themselves to the King’s court. Moments later, the good natured monarch appeared and, spotting the visitors, rushed forward to welcome them.
Almost two centuries later, one can imagine Staines’s disappointment and discomfort when the King, awed by the servant’s costume, hurried right by him to embrace the other!
To say the least, Staines was unhappy. Hurt by what he felt had been a deliberate snub, he must have sulked for the rest of the voyage to Victoria. His feelings, and those of his wife, weren’t revived by their first glimpse of their new home.
In fact, their arrival in Fort Victoria could only have been traumatic. Assured—in England by HBC officials—that comfortable quarters would be awaiting them at the trading post, they were distressed to find that Fort Victoria boasted of few of the amenities of the Old Country. In fact, their initial impression, as recorded by Chief Trader Roderick Finlayson years later, was one of “mud and mire”.
As there were no streets, the narrow tracks of mud that served as thoroughfares made sea boots the order of the day.
HBC Chief Trader Roderick Finlayson. —www.victoriaharbourhistory.com
As it was his duty to receive the couple Finlayson had the unenviable job of introducing them to their quarters. Although he felt little enough pity for Staines, he admitted to feeling “ashamed to see the lady come shore,” and saw to the laying of planks through the mud “in order to get them safely to the Fort”.
Once inside the stockade, the couple looked about in surprise and dismay at the “bare walls of the buildings...stating that the company in England had told them this and that and had promised them such and such”. But Finlayson could do no more than apologize for the spartan facilities and assure both that “their rooms were fitted as best could be done”.
Hudson’s Bay Co. Surgeon J.S. Helmcken and his fellow bachelors provided Staines’s students with one of their few pleasant distractions. —Wikipedia Commons
Their quarters and the schoolroom, recounted Dr. J.S. Helmcken who shared the same building, occupied a “large portion” of the two-storey log structure known as Bachelors’ Hall. This double occupancy led to some hectic moments for Helmcken, his roommate and guests as the students slept overhead, and “the little mischiefs used to play pranks, occasionally pouring water on us through cracks in the flooring. By the same token, our proceedings may have amazed them, too, for Bachelors’ Hall was pretty noisy.”
Regardless of distractions caused by the boisterous bachelors, Rev. And Mrs. Staines maintained a firm grip on their young charges from the very beginning. If nothing else, Staines was a strict disciplinarian, wielding his cane with energy for the slightest infraction. He was, according to one of his students, James R. Anderson, “of rather uncertain temper, and disposed to be unduly severe in administering corporal punishment,” a tendency towards violence that Anderson suffered firsthand more than once.
Particularly on those long, tedious summer afternoons when “learning the collects,” when, despite the hardness of his seat. Anderson found it impossible to remain awake—“and woe betide me” if Staines caught him sleeping.
Three-quarters of a century after, Anderson described Vancouver Island’s first classroom as spartan. Heated only by an old and ineffective box stove in winter (the older students hogging the warmer seats), and stifling in summer, the school had little to offer in the way of comfort.
Upstairs, the dormitory was little better equipped, the tedium and homesickness being relieved only by the antics of the bachelors Helmcken, McKay and company, whose “mild orgies,” as viewed through a piece of loose flooring, proved, as can be imagined, highly entertaining.
Between “orgies,” the students had to content themselves with catching rats, Staines having posted a bounty of a shilling for each dozen killed. Unfortunately, despite the fact the fort was overrun by vermin; Anderson ruefully recounted that the animals were cunning and hard to catch with the students’ home-made traps.
Consequently, few earned the shilling and many a night’s sleep was disturbed by the patter of little feet—sometimes across one’s face.
As for Staines, he’d sought his own diversion in the form of a 16-acre farm at Mount Tolmie then a 400-acre estate at Metchosin, Casually ignoring the fact that the HBC owned all of Vancouver island (and employed him), Staines was a squatter. Sure that the land must eventually be released for settlement, he refused to pay the company’s exorbitant rice and proceeded to raise pigs and cattle between classes. Then, as the farm demanded more of his time, the duties of school teacher descended more and more upon Mrs. Staines.
On Sundays, he couldn’t escape serving in the dual capacity of parson for the morning and afternoon services, and as schoolteacher in between. For his students, Sunday was the longest day of the week—“a day of terror”.
After a breakfast of bread and treacle and tea without milk, they attended the a.m. service. That over, they turned to lunch—potatoes, meat “and sometimes fish”--then suffered through the “collects”. Following an afternoon service, the students again had tea, bread and treacle before retiring to their hard beds consisting of a single blanket atop a board as mattress, and another for cover against the winter chill.
Amazingly, all survived, Anderson boasting, “We were hardy young beggars and did not mind it.”
Despite Staines’s ready temper and ready switch, Anderson conceded long afterwards that he was “nevertheless a good teacher”. Staines even proved himself to be more than a classroom czar when he organized occasional outings up the Gorge by Native canoe. Once out of the classroom, he became another man. A dedicated teacher of biology, he imparted his own enthusiasm for natural history to his charges.
At night, gathered about the fire, he led his students in song.
It was during such outings that Staines was able to relax, it seems, and be himself. At such times, said Anderson, he became quite likeable. But, once back in the classroom, he reverted to the tyrant of before.
Obviously, Staines found the same escape on his farm, taking more and more time away from his classroom duties and causing criticism to the effect that he preferred his pigs to his pupils. (Undoubtedly, if the truth were known, this was the case. As far as Chief Factor James Douglas was concerned, he was unquestionably violating his contract and neglecting his duties as teacher.)
Chief Factor (later Governor and Sir) James Douglas did not see eye-to-eye with his schoolteacher and minister. —Wikipedia
Actually, Douglas was thoroughly disgusted with his chaplain and schoolteacher although not strictly on grounds of dereliction of duty. Staines, between officiating at Sunday service, tutoring the post children and attending to the care and attention of his beloved pigs, had found time to involve himself in politics.
Despite the fact that the HBC reigned supreme over all of Vancouver Island, discouraged attempts at colonization by “independent settlers,” (this in direct violation of its royal charter), and was his employer, Staines blithely and vociferously championed the cause of open colonization, a pastime which could hardly be expected to win Douglas’s approval.
Their differences had begun with Staines’s performing the marriage ceremony for James Cathie and Maria Field, the staid Douglas reprimanding the minister for proceeding with the service when evidence indicated that Miss Field had been married before.
Usually—and with increasing frequency—the two—both headstrong and equally sure of the justice of his cause—differed on company policy.
With a growing number of independent settlers, Staines continually voiced criticism of the HBC’s efforts to discourage colonization. When, in 1852, he informed the British Consul at San Francisco of gold having been discovered on the Mainland, he again raised Douglas’s ire.
As head of the HBC on Vancouver Island, Douglas resented any such publicity which could lead to an influx of settlers; Vancouver island, the Company reasoned (charter notwithstanding) was for trading not farming.
Staines, Douglas penned with disdain, wasn’t performing to expectation: “Had I a selection to make [for teacher] he is not the man I would choose. But it must be admitted we might find a man worse qualified.”
Their differences came to a head when, with the resignation of Richard Blanshard as the first governor of of the Crown Colony of Vancouver Island, Blanshard agreed to carry with him to England, a petition urging representation which had been signed by the colony’s handful of residents who were un-associated with the fur company. Among the “independent settlers” whose names were on the petition was that of Rev. Robert Staines—preacher and teacher in the company’s employ.
Douglas accused him of being “a fomentor of mischief and I believe a preacher of sedition”.
Moreover, raged Douglas, “His time appears to be devoted to litigation and agitation. He is occasioning dissension between the colonists and the company.”
In other words, Staines didn’t seem to know on which side his bread was buttered; he was a traitor to the Company’s cause and with such annoying dissidents as Capt. James Cooper, a damned nuisance. Their petition, Douglas said, “slandered” the HBC.
When Staines bravely attacked the fur company’s trade monopoly, and continued to defy Douglas’s wrath, he was given notice that his services as schoolmaster wouldn’t be required as of June 1, 1854.
Finally, with the appointment of a Legislative Council, the rebels decided that their only recourse lay in taking their case directly to the Colonial Office. Perhaps because he was now a free agent, Staines was appointed as their “delegate.”
The noble assignment got off to an inauspicious start when he missed his boat and had to race to Sooke in hopes of overtaking it. Unfortunately, wind and tide beat him and he had to arrange passage on another vessel. Weeks passed, Mrs. Staines and his fellow petitioners confident that he was well on his way to the Old Country.
But when the master of the barque George Emery brought word of having boarded a waterlogged and dis-masted wreck off Cape Flattery, they knew it wasn’t to be; among the lost ship’s company was the Rev. Robert Staines.
But there were others to take up his torch. With the arrival of Amor de Cosmos and his publishing the British Colonist, Douglas, as governor, knew no peace. In the summer of 1859, de Cosmos recounted the struggle for representation and paid honourable mention to the pioneer efforts of Rev. Staines and company.
Today, Staines presents something of an anomaly to historians. On the one hand it can be argued that he was arrogant, irascible and disloyal to the company he had agreed to serve. Certainly, he was guilty of not having had the integrity to resign his position before campaigning for a cause directly opposed to the aims of his employer and benefactor.
Perhaps the career and character of the Rev. Robert John Staines have best been summed up by historian James K. Nesbitt who wrote, “...Mr. Staines, whatever his faults of character, could see plainly the need for reform if Vancouver Island and British Columbia ever were to prosper. Land reforms, but particularly an end to monopoly, were his aims.
“People said he was disloyal to the company, his benefactor and employer. But he was loyal to his principles.”
Many men have had worse epitaphs.
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Near the entrance to Cadboro Bay, opposite the Royal Victoria Yacht Club, is camel-humped Staines Island. Such as it is, it honours the memory of the province’s first clergyman, first schoolteacher and, perhaps, its first martyr.
Maps also show Staines Point, the southernmost reach of Trial Islands, off the Victoria Golf Course. Appropriately, the British Columbia Small Craft Guide advises boaters to give Staines Point a wide berth!
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