Flotsam and Jetsam
(Early Characters in B.C.’s Capital City.)
Many of the colourful transients who drifted into the capital city in the early days barely stayed long enough to guarantee themselves a place in the history books, but I recently discovered a few interesting examples.

One was Polish-born, carriage driver Billy Barlow. In 1863, he made the news several times by being fined five shillings for drunkenness in a public place and for failing to pay a court-ordered debt. He then sued an acquaintance for bodily assault. But it was Barlow’s hilarious antics and strange accent that drew crowds to court on the days when he made an appearance. After he died, it was discovered that his whole life was a hoax. He had once owned a respectable business in Sacramento selling lace and silk to high-class ladies – hardly the image of a man who enjoyed jostling with the law in Victoria, pretending poverty and drunkenness. He referred to himself as “Pilly Parlow” in an accent that mutilated the English language. To compound the mystery further, a letter to the editor of the Colonist dated August 6th, 1861, signed by “Billy Barlow, The Hermitage, Beacon Hill” was obviously written by a person who was both well educated and articulate.
Many other bizarre characters passed through the court system in those days; one was a First Nations person known as “Sacket” who came to court to give testimony in an 1895 trial dressed in a blueprint dress, a shawl draped over the shoulders and long hair tied in braids. During the trial it was discovered that Sacket was not really a woman as he/she appeared but simply preferred to dress in female clothing. Sacket was ordered to return the following day in man’s clothing. So, with long hair cut and a change of clothing, Sacket returned as a man, declaring that what he had been forced to do meant he would be eternally damned!
Chain gangs were a familiar sight on Victoria streets until well into the 20th century. One prisoner in a 1905 chain gang was William Miller, sentenced to 18 months hard labour for renting a bicycle with a cheque that bounced. Miller was apprehended, tried and sentenced. He hated prison life, and frequently told fellow prisoners that if he were ever placed in one of the outside chain gangs, he would escape. His opportunity came when a work party was assigned to Government House, and the gang would not be chained, nor would the guard be armed. Because of his record of good behaviour, Miller’s request to join this work party was granted. When the guard looked away, Miller slipped into the bushes and escaped. Although the Colonist reported that every attempt was made to capture him, Miller was never seen again
But by far the most interesting character in early Victoria was Bill Nye, whose real name was Thomas Chaplin. He could often be seen ambling along Kanaka Row (today’s Humboldt Street) on his way to the inner harbour. No one took much notice of him as he became a familiar sight in turn-of-the-20th century Victoria. Described as Victoria’s only “rag and bone man,” he lived a rough life in a water-logged shack on Kanaka Row. He had arrived in the city in 1892 and seemed content to spend his days living with memories from his past travels around the world. With his gunnysack slung over one shoulder, a single gold earring swinging in the breeze, and his well-worn coat tied with twine, Nye would head down to the James Bay Flats on most days scouring for salvageable ‘treasures.’ To do this, he combed the mud flats in an old barrel using his hands for paddles. Following his death in 1944, rumours abounded. He had taken the name “Bill Nye” from the American humourist Edgar Wilson’s character and was really a man of great wealth who owned property in both Australia and England. Unfortunately, the truth was never known and accompanied him to his grave.
It was a rare day indeed when reporters in early Victoria were at a loss for ideas, for these characters, like flotsam and jetsam, provided all the colourful material needed for a good story.
