Sir William Beauvoir, Bart., whose lamented death has just occurred at
Brighton, on December 28th, was the head and representative of the
junior branch of the very ancient and honourable family of Beauvoir, and
was the only son of the late General Sir William Beauvoir, Bart., by his
wife Anne, daughter of Colonel Doyle, of Chelsworth Cottage, Suffolk.
He was born in 1805, and was educated at Eton and Trinity Hall,
Cambridge. He was M.P. for Lancashire from 1837 to 1847, and was
appointed a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber in 1843. Sir William married,
in 1826, Henrietta Georgiana, fourth daughter of the Right Honourable
Adolphus Liddell, Q.C., by whom he had two sons, William Beauvoir and
Oliver Liddell Beauvoir. The latter was with his lamented parent when he
died. Of the former nothing has been heard for nearly thirty years,
about which time he left England suddenly for America. It is supposed
that he went to California, shortly after the discovery of gold. Much
forgotten gossip will now in all probability be revived, for the will of
the lamented baronet has been proved, on the 2d inst., and the
personalty sworn under L70,000. The two sons are appointed executors.
The estate in Lancashire is left to the elder, and the rest is divided
equally between the brothers. The doubt as to the career of Sir
William's eldest son must now of course be cleared up.
This family of Beauvoirs is of Norman descent and of great antiquity.
This is the younger branch, founded in the last century by Sir William
Beauvoir, Bart., who was Chief Justice of the Canadas, whence he was
granted the punning arms and motto now borne by his descendants--a
beaver sable rampant on a field gules; motto, "Damno."
Extract from the "Sunday Satirist," a journal of high-life, published
in London, May 13th, 1848:
Are not our hereditary lawmakers and the members of our old families the
guardians of the honour of this realm? One would not think so to see the
reckless gait at which some of them go down the road to ruin. The D----e
of D----m and the E----l of B----n and L----d Y----g,--are not these
pretty guardians of a nation's name? Quis custodiet? etc. Guardians,
forsooth, parce qu'ils se sont donnes la peine de naitre! Some of the
gentry make the running as well as their betters. Young W----m B----r,
son of old Sir W----m B----r, late M.P. for L----e, is truly a model
young man. He comes of a good old county family--his mother was a
daughter of the Right Honourable A----s L----l, and he himself is old
enough to know better. But we hear of his escapades night after night,
and day after day. He bets all day and he plays all night, and poor
tired nature has to make the best of it. And his poor worn purse gets
the worst of it. He has duns by the score. His I.O.U.'s are held by
every Jew in the city. He is not content with a little gentlemanlike
game of whist or ecarte, but he must needs revive for his especial use
and behoof the dangerous and well-nigh forgotten pharaoh. As luck
would have it, he had lost as much at this game of brute chance as ever
he would at any game of skill. His judgment of horseflesh is no better
than his luck at cards. He came a cropper over the "Two Thousand
Guineas." The victory of the favorite cost him to the tune of over six
thousand pounds. We learn that he hopes to recoup himself on the Derby,
by backing Shylock for nearly nine thousand pounds; one bet was twelve
hundred guineas.
And this is the sort of man who may be chosen at any time by force of
family interest to make laws for the toiling millions of Great Britain!
WEDNESDAY.--This day, like its predecessor, opened with a cloudless sky,
and the throng which crowded the avenues leading to the grand scene of
attraction was, as we have elsewhere remarked, incalculable.
The Derby Stakes of 50 sovs. each, h. ft. for three year-olds; colts, 8
st. 7 lb., fillies, 8 st. 2 lb.; the second to receive 100 sovs., and
the winner to pay 100 sovs. towards police, etc.; mile and a half on the
new Derby course; 215 subs.
Lord Clifden's b.c. Surplice, by Touchstone.......... 1
Mr. Bowe's b.c. Springy Jack, by Hetman.............. 2
Mr. B. Green's br.c. Shylock, by Simoon.............. 3
Mr. Payne's b.c. Glendower, by Slane............... 0
Mr. J.P. Day's b.c. Nil Desperandum, by Venison...... 0
* * * * *
Paragraph of Shipping Intelligence from the "Liverpool Courier" of June
21st, 1848:
The bark Euterpe, Captain Riding, belonging to the Transatlantic
Clipper Line of Messrs. Judkins & Cooke, left the Mersey yesterday
afternoon, bound for New York. She took out the usual complement of
steerage passengers. The first officer's cabin is occupied by Professor
Titus Peebles, M.R.C.S., M.R.G.S., lately instructor in metallurgy at
the University of Edinburgh, and Mr. William Beauvoir. Professor
Peebles, we are informed, has an important scientific mission in the
States, and will not return for six months.
Paragraph from the "N.Y. Herald" of September 9th, 1848:
While we well know that the record of vice and dissipation can never be
pleasing to the refined tastes of the cultivated denizens of the only
morally pure metropolis on the face of the earth, yet it may be of
interest to those who enjoy the fascinating study of human folly and
frailty to "point a moral or adorn a tale" from the events transpiring
in our very midst. Such as these will view with alarm the sad example
afforded the youth of our city by the dissolute career of a young lump
of aristocratic affectation and patrician profligacy, recently arrived
in this city. This young gentleman's (save the mark!) name is Lord
William F. Beauvoir, the latest scion of a venerable and wealthy English
family. We print the full name of this beautiful exemplar of "haughty
Albion," although he first appeared among our citizens under the alias
of Beaver, by which name he is now generally known, although recorded on
the books of the Astor House by the name which our enterprise first
gives to the public. Lord Beauvoir's career since his arrival here has
been one of unexampled extravagance and mad immorality. His days and
nights have been passed in the gilded palaces of the fickle goddess,
Fortune, in Thomas Street and College Place, where he has squandered
fabulous sums, by some stated to amount to over L78,000 sterling. It is
satisfactory to know that retribution has at last overtaken him. His
enormous income has been exhausted to the ultimate farthing, and at
latest accounts he had quit the city, leaving behind him, it is shrewdly
suspected, a large hotel bill, though no such admission can be extorted
from his last landlord, who is evidently a sycophantic adulator of
British "aristocracy."
Certificate of deposit, vulgarly known as a pawn-ticket, issued by one
Simpson to William Beauvoir, December 2d, 1848:
=John Simpson,
Loan Office,
36 Bowery,
New York.=
Dec. 2nd, 1848,
One Gold Hunting-case Watch and Dolls. Cts.
Chain 150 00William Beauvoir
Not accountable in case of fire, damage, moth, robbery, breakage, &c.
25% per ann. Good for 1 year only.
Letter from the late John Phoenix, found among the posthumous papers of
the late John P. Squibob, and promptly published in the "San Diego
Herald":
OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA, Jan. 3, 1849.
MY DEAR SQUIB:--I imagine your pathetic inquiry
as to my whereabouts--pathetic, not to say
hypothetic--for I am now where I cannot hear the
dulcet strains of your voice. I am on board ship.
I am half seas over. I am bound for California
by way of the Isthmus. I am going for the gold,
my boy, the gold. In the mean time I am lying
around loose on the deck of this magnificent
vessel, the Mercy G. Tarbox, of Nantucket, bred by
Noah's Ark out of Pilot-boat, dam by Mudscow out
of Raging Canawl. The Mercy G. Tarbox is one of
the best boats of Nantucket, and Captain Clearstarch
is one of the best captains all along shore--although,
friend Squibob, I feel sure that you
are about to observe that a captain with a name
like that would give any one the blues. But
don't do it, Squib! Spare me this once.
But as a matter of fact this ultramarine joke of
yours is about east. It was blue on the Mercy
G.--mighty blue, too. And it needed the inspiring
hope of the gold I was soon to pick up in nuggets
to stiffen my back-bone to a respectable degree
of rigidity. I was about ready to wilt. But
I discovered two Englishmen on board, and now I
get along all right. We have formed a little temperance
society--just we three, you know--to see
if we cannot, by a course of sampling and severe
study, discover which of the captain's liquors is
most dangerous, so that we can take the pledge
not to touch it. One of them is a chemist or a
metallurgist, or something scientific. The other
is a gentleman.
The chemist or metallurgist or something scientific
is Professor Titus Peebles, who is going out
to prospect for gold. He feels sure that his professional
training will give him the inside track in
the gulches and gold mines. He is a smart chap.
He invented the celebrated "William Riley Baking
Powder"--bound to rise up every time.
And here I must tell you a little circumstance.
As I was coming down to the dock in New York,
to go aboard the Mercy G., a small boy was walloping
a boy still smaller; so I made peace, and walloped
them both. And then they both began heaving
rocks at me--one of which I caught dexterously
in the dexter hand. Yesterday, as I was
pacing the deck with the professor, I put my hand
in my pocket and found this stone. So I asked the
professor what it was.
He looked at it and said it was gneiss.
"Is it?" said I. "Well, if a small but energetic
youth had taken you on the back of the head
with it, you would not think it so nice!"
And then, O Squib, he set out to explain that he
meant "gneiss," not "nice!" The ignorance of
these English about a joke is really wonderful. It
is easy to see that they have never been brought
up on them. But perhaps there was some excuse
for the professor that day, for he was the president
pro tem. of our projected temperance society, and
as such he head been making a quantitative and
qualitative analysis of another kind of quartz.
So much for the chemist or metallurgist or
something scientific. The gentleman and I get on
better. His name is Beaver, which he persists
in spelling Beauvoir. Ridiculous, isn't it? How
easy it is to see that the English have never had
the advantage of a good common-school education--so
few of them can spell. Here's a man don't
know how to spell his own name. And this shows
how the race over there on the little island is degenerating.
It was not so in other days. Shakspere,
for instance, not only knew how to spell his
own name, but--and this is another proof of his
superiority to his contemporaries--he could spell
it in half a dozen different ways.
This Beaver is a clever fellow, and we get on
first rate together. He is going to California for
gold--like the rest of us. But I think he has had his
share--and spent it. At any rate he has not much
now. I have been teaching him poker, and I am
afraid he won't have any soon. I have an idea he
has been going pretty fast--and mostly down hill.
But he has his good points. He is a gentleman
all through, as you can see. Yes, friend Squibob,
even you could see right through him. We are
all going to California together, and I wonder
which one of the three will turn up trumps first--Beaver,
or the chemist, metallurgist or something
scientific, or
Yours respectfully, JOHN PHOENIX.
P.S. You think this a stupid letter, perhaps,
and not interesting. Just reflect on my surroundings.
Besides, the interest will accumulate a good
while before you get the missive. And I don't
know how you ever are to get it, for there is
no post-office near here, and on the Isthmus the
mails are as uncertain as the females are everywhere.
(I am informed that there is no postage on
old jokes--so I let that stand.)
Extract from the "Bone Gulch Palladium," June 3d, 1850:
Our readers may remember how frequently we have declared our firm belief
in the future unexampled prosperity of Bone Gulch. We saw it in the
immediate future the metropolis of the Pacific Slope, as it was intended
by nature to be. We pointed out repeatedly that a time would come when
Bone Gulch would be an emporium of the arts and sciences and of the best
society, even more than it is now. We foresaw the time when the best men
from the old cities of the East would come flocking to us, passing with
contempt the puny settlement of Deadhorse. But even we did not so soon
see that members of the aristocracy of the effete monarchies of despotic
Europe would acknowledge the undeniable advantages of Bone Gulch, and
come here to stay permanently and forever. Within the past week we have
received here Hon. William Beaver, one of the first men of Great Britain
and Ireland, a statesman, an orator, a soldier and an extensive
traveller. He has come to Bone Gulch as the best spot on the face of the
everlasting universe. It is needless to say that our prominent citizens
have received him with great cordiality. Bone Gulch is not like
Deadhorse. We know a gentleman when we see one.
Hon. Mr. Beaver is one of nature's noblemen; he is also related to the
Royal Family of England. He is a second cousin of the Queen, and boards
at the Tower of London with her when at home. We are informed that he
has frequently taken the Prince of Wales out for a ride in his
baby-wagon.
We take great pleasure in congratulating Bone Gulch on its latest
acquisition. And we know Hon. Mr. Beaver is sure to get along all right
here under the best climate in the world and with the noblest men the
sun ever shone on.
Bonegulch sits in sackcloth and ashes and cools her mammoth cheek in the
breezes of Colorado canyon. The self-styled Emporium of the West has
lost her British darling, Beaver Bill, the big swell who was first
cousin to the Marquis of Buckingham and own grandmother to the Emperor
of China, the man with the biled shirt and low-necked shoes. This curled
darling of the Bonegulch aristocrat-worshippers passed through Deadhorse
yesterday, clean bust. Those who remember how the four-fingered editor
of the Bonegulch "Palladium" pricked up his ears and lifted up his
falsetto crow when this lovely specimen of the British snob first
honored him by striking him for a $ will appreciate the point of the
joke.
It is said that the "Palladium" is going to come out, when it makes its
next semi-occasional appearance, in full mourning, with turned rules.
For this festive occasion we offer Brother B. the use of our late
retired Spanish font, which we have discarded for the new and elegant
dress in which we appear to-day, and to which we have elsewhere called
the attention of our readers. It will be a change for the "Palladium's"
eleven unhappy readers, who are getting very tired of the old type cast
for the Concha Mission in 1811, which tries to make up for its lack of
w's by a plentiful superfluity of greaser u's. How are you, Brother
Biles?
William Beaver, better known ten years ago as "Beaver Bill," is now a
quiet and prosperous agriculturalist in the Steal Valley. He was,
however, a pioneer in the 1849 movement, and a vivid memory of this fact
at times moves him to quit his bucolic labors and come in town for a
real old-fashioned tare. He arrived in New Centreville during Christmas
week; and got married suddenly, but not unexpectedly, yesterday morning.
His friends took it upon themselves to celebrate the joyful occasion,
rare in the experience of at least one of the parties, by getting very
high on Irish Ike's whiskey and serenading the newly-married couple with
fish-horns, horse-fiddles, and other improvised musical instruments. Six
of the participators in this epithalamial serenade, namely, Jose Tanco,
Hiram Scuttles, John P. Jones, Hermann Bumgardner, Jean Durant
("Frenchy"), and Bernard McGinnis ("Big Barney"), were taken in tow by
the police force, assisted by citizens, and locked up over night, to
cool their generous enthusiasm in the gloomy dungeons of Justice
Skinner's calaboose. This morning all were discharged with a reprimand,
except Big Barney and Jose Tanco, who, being still drunk, were allotted
ten days in default of $10. The bridal pair left this noon for the
bridegroom's ranch.
Great uneasiness exists all along the Indian frontier. Nearly all the
regular troops have been withdrawn from the West for service in the
South. With the return of the warm weather it seems certain that the red
skins will take advantage of the opportunity thus offered, and
inaugurate a bitter and vindictive fight against the whites. Rumors come
from the agencies that the Indians are leaving in numbers. A feverish
excitement among them has been easily to be detected. Their ponies are
now in good condition, and forage can soon be had in abundance on the
prairie, if it is not already. Everything points toward a sudden and
startling outbreak of hostilities.
The Sioux near here are all in a ferment. Experienced Indian fighters
say the signs of a speedy going on the war-path are not to be mistaken.
No one can tell how soon the whole frontier may be in a bloody blaze.
The women and children are rapidly coming in from all exposed
settlements. Nothing overt as yet has transpired, but that the Indians
will collide very soon with the settlers is certain. All the troops have
been withdrawn. In our defenceless state there is no knowing how many
lives may be lost before the regiments of volunteers now organizing can
take the field.
LATER.
THE WAR BEGUN.
FIRST BLOOD FOR THE INDIANS.
THE SCALPING KNIFE AND THE TOMAHAWK AT WORK AGAIN.
The Indians made a sudden and unexpected attack on the town of Coyote
Hill, forty miles from here, last night, and did much damage before the
surprised settlers rallied and drove them off. The red skins met with
heavy losses. Among the whites killed are a man named William Beaver,
sometimes called Beaver Bill, and his wife. Their child, a beautiful
little girl of two, was carried off by the red rascals. A party has been
made up to pursue them. Owing to their taking their wounded with them,
the trail is very distinct.
Letter from Mrs. Edgar Saville, in San Francisco, to Mr. Edgar Saville,
in Chicago:
CAL. JARDINE'S
Monster Variety and Dramatic Combination.
ON THE ROAD.
G.W.K. McCULLUM,
Treasurer
HI. SAMUELS,
Stage Manager.
FNO. SHANKS,
Advance.
No dates filled except with first-class houses.
Hall owners will please consider silence a polite negative.
SAN FRANCISCO, January 29, 1863.
MY DEAR OLD MAN!--Here we are in our
second week at Frisco and you will be glad to
know playing to steadily increasing biz, having
signed for two weeks more, certain. I didn't like
to mention it when I wrote you last, but things
were very queer after we left Denver, and "Treasury"
was a mockery till we got to Bluefoot
Springs, which is a mining town, where we showed
in the hotel dining-room. Then there was a
strike just before the curtain went up. The house
was mostly miners in red shirts and very exacting.
The sinews were forthcoming very quick my
dear, and after that the ghost walked quite regular.
So now everything is bright, and you wont
have to worry if Chicago doesn't do the right
thing by you.
I don't find this engagement half as disagreeable
as I expected. Of course it aint so very nice
travelling in a combination with variety talent but
they keep to themselves and we regular professionals
make a happy family that Barnum would not
be ashamed of and quite separate and comfortable.
We don't associate with any of them only
with The Unique Mulligans wife, because he beats
her. So when he is on a regular she sleeps with
me.
And talking of liquor dear old man, if you knew
how glad and proud I was to see you writing so
straight and steady and beautiful in your three
last letters. O, Im sure my darling if the boys
thought of the little wife out on the road they
wouldnt plague you so with the Enemy. Tell
Harry Atkinson this from me, he has a good kind
heart but he is the worst of your friends. Every
night when I am dressing I think of you at
Chicago, and pray you may never again go on the
way you did that terrible night at Rochester.
Tell me dear, did you look handsome in Horatio?
You ought to have had Laertes instead of that
duffing Merivale.
And now I have the queerest thing to tell you.
Jardine is going in for Indians and has secured six
very ugly ones. I mean real Indians, not professional.
They are hostile Comanshies or something
who have just laid down their arms. They
had an insurrection in the first year of the War,
when the troops went East, and they killed all the
settlers and ranches and destroyed the canyons
somewhere out in Nevada, and when they were
brought here they had a wee little kid with them
only four or five years old, but so sweet. They stole
her and killed her parents and brought her up for
their own in the cunningest little moccasins. She
could not speak a word of English except her own
name which is Nina. She has blue eyes and all
her second teeth. The ladies here made a great
fuss about her and sent her flowers and worsted
afgans, but they did not do anything else for her
and left her to us.
O dear old man you must let me have her!
You never refused me a thing yet and she is so
like our Avonia Marie that my heart almost breaks
when she puts her arms around my neck--she calls
me mamma already. I want to have her with us
when we get the little farm--and it must be near,
that little farm of ours--we have waited for it so
long--and something tells me my own old faker
will make his hit soon and be great. You cant
tell how I have loved it and hoped for it and how
real every foot of that farm is to me. And though
I can never see my own darling's face among the
roses it will make me so happy to see this poor
dead mothers pet get red and rosy in the country
air. And till the farm comes we shall always have
enough for her, without your ever having to black
up again as you did for me the winter I was sick
my own poor boy!
Write me yes--you will be glad when you see
her. And now love and regards to Mrs. Barry and
all friends. Tell the Worst of Managers that he
knows where to find his leading juvenile for next
season. Think how funny it would be for us to
play together next year--we havent done it since
'57--the third year we were married. That was
my first season higher than walking--and now I'm
quite an old woman--most thirty dear!
Write me soon a letter like that last one--and
send a kiss to Nina--our Nina.
Letter from Messrs. Throstlethwaite, Throstlethwaite and Dick,
Solicitors, Lincoln's Inn, London, England, to Messrs. Hitchcock and Van
Rensselaer, Attorneys and Counsellors at Law, 76 Broadway, New York,
U.S.A.
January 8, 1879.
Messrs. HITCHCOCK & VAN RENSSELAER:
GENTLEMEN: On the death of our late client, Sir
William Beauvoir, Bart., and after the reading of
the deceased gentleman's will, drawn up nearly
forty years ago by our Mr. Dick, we were requested
by Oliver Beauvoir, Esq., the second son of the
late Sir William, to assist him in discovering and
communicating with his elder brother, the present
Sir William Beauvoir, of whose domicile we have
little or no information.
After a consultation between Mr. Oliver Beauvoir
and our Mr. Dick, it was seen that the sole
knowledge in our possession amounted substantially
to this: Thirty years ago the elder son of
the late baronet, after indulging in dissipation in
every possible form, much to the sorrow of his respected
parent, who frequently expressed as much
to our Mr. Dick, disappeared, leaving behind him
bills and debts of all descriptions, which we,
under instructions from Sir William, examined,
audited and paid. Sir William Beauvoir would
allow no search to be made for his erring son and
would listen to no mention of his name. Current
gossip declared that he had gone to New York,
where he probably arrived about midsummer,
1848. Mr. Oliver Beauvoir thinks that he crossed
to the States in company with a distinguished
scientific gentleman, Professor Titus Peebles.
Within a year after his departure news came that
he had gone to California with Professor Peebles;
this was about the time gold was discovered in the
States. That the present Sir William Beauvoir
did about this time actually arrive on the Pacific
Coast in company with the distinguished scientific
man above mentioned, we have every reason
to believe: we have even direct evidence on the
subject. A former junior clerk who had left us at
about the same period as the disappearance of the
elder son of our late client, accosted our Mr. Dick
when the latter was in Paris last summer, and informed
him (our Mr. Dick) that he (the former
junior clerk) was now a resident of Nevada and a
member of Congress for that county, and in the
course of conversation he mentioned that he had
seen Professor Peebles and the son of our late
client in San Francisco, nearly thirty years ago.
Other information we have none. It ought not to
be difficult to discover Professor Peebles, whose
scientific attainments have doubtless ere this been
duly recognized by the U.S. government. As
our late client leaves the valuable family estate in
Lancashire to his elder son and divides the remainder
equally between his two sons, you will
readily see why we invoke your assistance in discovering
the present domicile of the late baronet's
elder son, or in default thereof, in placing in our
hands such proof of his death as may be necessary
to establish that lamentable fact in our probate
court.
We have the honour to remain, as ever, your
most humble and obedient servants,
THROSTLETHWAITE, THROSTLETHWAITE & DICK.
P.S. Our late client's grandson, Mr. William
Beauvoir, the only child of Oliver Beauvoir, Esq.,
is now in the States, in Chicago or Nebraska or
somewhere in the West. We shall be pleased if
you can keep him informed as to the progress of
your investigations. Our Mr. Dick has requested
Mr. Oliver Beauvoir to give his son your address,
and to suggest his calling on you as he passes
through New York on his way home.
Letter from Messrs. Hitchcock and Van Rensselaer, New York, to Messrs.
Pixley and Sutton, Attorneys and Counsellors at Law, 98 California
Street, San Francisco, California.
Law Offices of Hitchcock & Van Rensselaer,
70 Broadway, New York,
P.O. Box 4078.
Jan. 22, 1879.
Messrs. PIXLEY AND SUTTON:
GENTLEMEN: We have just received from our
London correspondents, Messrs. Throstlethwaite,
Throstlethwaite and Dick, of Lincoln's Inn, London,
the letter, a copy of which is herewith enclosed,
to which we invite your attention. We request that
you will do all in your power to aid us in the
search for the missing Englishman. From the letter
of Messrs. Throstlethwaite, Throstlethwaite and
Dick, it seems extremely probable, not to say certain,
that Mr. Beauvoir arrived in your city about
1849, in company with a distinguished English
scientist, Professor Titus Peebles, whose professional
attainments were such that he is probably
well known, if not in California, at least in some
other of the mining States. The first thing to be
done, therefore, it seems to us, is to ascertain the
whereabouts of the professor, and to interview
him at once. It may be that he has no knowledge
of the present domicile of Mr. William Beauvoir--in
which case we shall rely on you to take such
steps as, in your judgment, will best conduce to a
satisfactory solution of the mystery. In any event,
please look up Professor Peebles, and interview
him at once.
Pray keep us fully informed by telegraph of your
movements. Yr obt serv'ts,
Telegram from Messrs. Pixley and Sutton, Attorneys and Counsellors at
Law, 98 California Street, San Francisco, California, to Messrs.
Hitchcock and Van Rensselaer, Attorneys and Counsellors at Law, 76
Broadway, New York.
SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
Jan. 30.
Tite Peebles well known frisco not professor
keeps faro bank.
Letter from Tite W. Peebles, delegate to the California Constitutional
Convention, Sacramento, to Messrs. Pixley and Sutton, 98 California
Street, San Francisco, California.
SACRAMENTO, Feb. 2, '79.
Messrs. PIXLEY & SUTTON:
San Francisco.
GENTLEMEN: Your favor of the 31st ult., forwarded
me from San Francisco, has been duly
rec'd, and contents thereof noted.
My time is at present so fully occupied by my
duties as a delegate to the Constitutional Convention
that I can only jot down a brief report of my
recollections on this head. When I return to
S.F., I shall be happy to give you any further information
that may be in my possession.
The person concerning whom you inquire was
my fellow passenger on my first voyage to this
State on board the Mercy G. Tarbox, in the latter
part of the year. He was then known as Mr. William
Beauvoir. I was acquainted with his history,
of which the details escape me at this writing.
He was a countryman of mine; a member of an
important county family--Devonian, I believe--and
had left England on account of large gambling
debts, of which he confided to me the exact
figure. I believe they totted up something like
L14,500.
I had at no time a very intimate acquaintance
with Mr. Beauvoir; during our sojourn on the
Tarbox, he was the chosen associate of a depraved
and vicious character named Phoenix. I am not
averse from saying that I was then a member of a
profession rather different to my present one,
being, in fact, professor of metallurgy, and I saw
much less, at that period, of Mr. B. than I probably
should now.
Directly we landed at S.F., the object of your
inquiries set out for the gold region, without adequate
preparation, like so many others did at that
time, and, I heard, fared very ill.
I encountered him some six months later; I
have forgotten precisely in what locality, though I
have a faint impression that his then habitat was
some canon or ravine, deriving its name from certain
osseous deposits. Here he had engaged in
the business of gold-mining, without, perhaps,
sufficient grounds for any confident hope of ultimate
success. I have his I.O.U. for the amount
of my fee for assaying several specimens from his
claim, said specimens being all iron pyrites.
This is all I am able to call to mind at present
in the matter of Mr. Beauvoir. I trust his subsequent
career was of a nature better calculated to
be satisfactory to himself; but his mineralogical
knowledge was but superficial; and his character
was sadly deformed by a fatal taste for low associates.
I remain, gentlemen, your very humble and
obd't servant,
TITUS W. PEEBLES.
P.S.--Private.
MY DEAR PIX: If you don't feel inclined to
pony up that little sum you are out on the bay
gelding, drop down to my place when I get back
and I'll give you another chance for your life at
the pasteboards. Constitution going through.
Extract from the New Centreville [late Dead Horse] "Gazette and Courier
of Civilization," December 20th, 1878:
"Miss Nina Saville appeared last night at the Mendocino
Grand Opera House, in her unrivalled specialty of Winona
the Child of the Prairies; supported by Tompkins and Frobisher's
Grand Stellar Constellation. Although Miss Saville
has long been known as one of the most promising of California's
younger tragediennes, we feel safe in saying that the impression
she produced upon the large and cultured audience
gathered to greet her last night stamped her as one of the
greatest and most phenomenal geniuses of our own or other
times. Her marvellous beauty of form and feature, added to
her wonderful artistic power, and her perfect mastery of the difficult
science of clog-dancing, won her an immediate place in
the hearts of our citizens, and confirmed the belief that California
need no longer look to Europe or Chicago for dramatic
talent of the highest order. The sylph-like beauty, the harmonious
and ever-varying grace, the vivacity and the power of the
young artist who made her maiden effort among us last night,
prove conclusively that the virgin soil of California teems with
yet undiscovered fires of genius. The drama of Winona, the
Child of the Prairies, is a pure, refined, and thoroughly absorbing
entertainment, and has been pronounced by the entire
press of the country equal to if not superior to the fascinating
Lady of Lyons. It introduces all the favorites of the company
in new and original characters, and with its original music,
which is a prominent feature, has already received over 200
representations in the principal cities in the country. It abounds
in effective situations, striking tableaux, and a most quaint and
original concert entitled 'The Mule Fling,' which alone is worth
the price of admission. As this is its first presentation in this
city, the theatre will no doubt be crowded, and seats should be
secured early in the day. The drama will be preceded by that
prince of humorists, Mr. Billy Barker, in his humorous sketches
and pictures from life."
We quote the above from our esteemed contemporary, the Mendocino
Gazette, at the request of Mr. Zeke Kilburn, Miss Saville's advance
agent, who has still further appealed to us, not only on the ground of
our common humanity, but as the only appreciative and thoroughly
informed critics on the Pacific Slope to "endorse" this rather vivid
expression of opinion. Nothing will give us greater pleasure. Allowing
for the habitual enthusiasm of our northern neighbor, and for the
well-known chaste aridity of Mendocino in respect of female beauty, we
have no doubt that Miss Nina Saville is all that the fancy, peculiarly
opulent and active even for an advance agent, of Mr. Kilburn has painted
her, and is quite such a vision of youth, beauty, and artistic
phenomenality as will make the stars of Paris and Illinois pale their
ineffectual fires.
Miss Saville will appear in her "unrivalled specialty" at Hanks's New
Centreville Opera House, to-morrow night, as may be gathered, in a
general way, from an advertisement in another column.
We should not omit to mention that Mr. Zeke Kilburn, Miss Saville's
advance agent, is a gentleman of imposing presence, elegant manners, and
complete knowledge of his business. This information may be relied upon
as at least authentic, having been derived from Mr. Kilburn himself, to
which we can add, as our own contribution, the statement that Mr.
Kilburn is a gentleman of marked liberality in his ideas of spirituous
refreshments, and of equal originality in his conception of the uses,
objects and personal susceptibilities of the journalistic profession.
Local Item from the "New Centreville Standard," December 20th, 1878:
Hon. William Beauvoir has registered at the United States Hotel. Mr.
Beauvoir is a young English gentleman of great wealth, now engaged in
investigating the gigantic resources of this great country. We welcome
him to New Centreville.
Programme of the performance given in the Centreville Theatre, Dec.
21st, 1878:
HANKS' NEW CENTREVILLE OPERA HOUSE
A. Jackson Hanks.....................Sole Proprietor and Manager.
FIRST APPEARANCE IN THIS CITY OF TOMPKINS & FROBISHER'S GRAND
STELLAR CONSTELLATION,
Supporting California's favorite daughter, the young American
Tragedienne,
MISS NINA SAVILLE,
Who will appear in Her Unrivalled Specialty,
"Winona, the Child of the Prairie."
THIS EVENING, DECEMBER 21st, 1878,
Will be presented, with the following phenomenal cast, the accepted
American Drama,
WINONA: THE CHILD OF THE PRAIRIE.
WINONA.................................................... Miss
FLORA MacMADISON..................................... BIDDY
FLAHERTY........................................... OLD AUNT DINAH
(with Song, "Don't Get Weary").............Miss NINA SALLY
HOSKINS............................................. SAVILLE (With
the old-time melody, "Bobbin' Around.") POOR JOE (with
Song)...................................... FRAULINE LINA
BOOBENSTEIN................................. (With stammering song,
"I yoost landet.") SIR EDMOND BENNETT (specially
engaged)................E.C. GRAINGER WALTON
TRAVERS.........................................G.W. PARSONS GIPSY
JOE..................................................M. ISAACS
'ANNIBAL 'ORACE 'IGGINS................................BILLY BARKER
TOMMY TIPPER.....................................Miss MAMIE SMITH
PETE, the Man on the Dock................................SI HANCOCK
Mrs. MALONE, the Old Woman in the Little House.... Mrs. K.Y. BOOTH
ROBERT BENNETT (aged five)......................Little ANNIE WATSON
Act I.--The Old Home. Act II.--Alone in the World. Act III.--The
Frozen Gulf: THE GREAT ICEBERG SENSATION. Act IV.--Wedding Bells.
"Winona, the Child of the Prairie," will be preceded by
A FAVORITE FARCE,
In which the great BILLY BARKER will appear in one of his most
outrageously funny bits.
New Scenery......................by....................Q.Z. Slocum
Music by Professor Kiddoo's Silver Bugle Brass Band and Philharmonic
Orchestra.
Chickway's Grand Piano, lent by Schmidt, 2 Opera House Block.
AFTER THE SHOW, GO TO HANKS' AND SEE A MAN
Pop Williams, the only legitimate Bill-Poster in New Centreville.
Extract from the New Centreville [late Dead Horse] "Gazette and Courier
of Civilization," Dec. 24th, 1878:
A little while ago, in noting the arrival of Miss Nina Saville of the
New Centreville Opera House we quoted rather extensively from our
esteemed contemporary, the Mendocino Times and commented upon the
quotation. Shortly afterwards, it may also be remembered, we made a very
direct and decided apology for the sceptical levity which inspired those
remarks, and expressed our hearty sympathy with the honest, if somewhat
effusive, enthusiasm with which the dramatic critic of Mendocino greeted
the sweet and dainty little girl who threw over the dull, weary old
business of the stage "sensation" the charm of a fresh and childlike
beauty and originality, as rare and delicate as those strange,
unreasonable little glimmers of spring sunsets that now and then light
up for a brief moment the dull skies of winter evenings, and seem to
have strayed into ungrateful January out of sheer pity for the sad
earth.
Mendocino noticed the facts that form the basis of the above
meteorological simile, and we believe we gave Mendocino full credit for
it at the time. We refer to the matter at this date only because in our
remarks of a few days ago we had occasion to mention the fact of the
existence of Mr. Zeke Kilburn, an advance agent, who called upon us at
the time, to endeavor to induce us, by means apparently calculated more
closely for the latitude of Mendocino, to extend to Miss Saville, before
her appearance, the critical approbation which we gladly extended after.
This little item of interest we alluded to at the time, and furthermore
intimated, with some vagueness, that there existed in Kilburn's
character a certain misdirected zeal combined with a too keen artistic
appreciation, are apt to be rather dangerous stock-in trade for an
advance agent.
It was twenty seven minutes past two o'clock yesterday afternoon. The
chaste white mystery of Shigo Mountain was already taking on a faint,
almost imperceptible, hint of pink, like the warm cheek of a girl who
hears a voice and anticipates a blush. Yet the rays of the afternoon sun
rested with undiminished radiance on the empty pork-barrel in front of
McMullin's shebang. A small and vagrant infant, whose associations with
empty barrels were doubtless hitherto connected solely with dreams of
saccharine dissipation, approached the bunghole with precocious caution,
and retired with celerity and a certain acquisition of experience. An
unattached goat, a martyr to the radical theory of personal
investigation, followed in the footsteps of infantile humanity, retired
with even greater promptitude, and was fain to stay its stomach on a
presumably empty rend-rock can, afterward going into seclusion behind
McMullin's horse-shed, before the diuretic effect of tin flavored with
blasting-powder could be observed by the attentive eye of science.
Mr. Kilburn emerged from the hostlery without Mr. McMullin. Mr. Kilburn,
as we have before stated at his own request, is a gentleman of imposing
presence. It is well that we made this statement when we did, for it is
hard to judge of the imposing quality in a gentleman's presence when
that gentleman is suspended from the arm of another gentleman by the
collar of the first gentleman's coat. The gentleman in the rear of Mr.
Kilburn was Mr. William Beauvoir, a young Englishman in a check suit.
Mr. Beauvoir is not avowedly a man of imposing presence; he wears a seal
ring, and he is generally a scion of an effete oligarchy, but he has,
since his introduction into this community, behaved himself, to use the
adjectivial adverb of Mr. McMullin, white, and he has a very
remarkable biceps. These qualities may hereafter enhance his popularity
in New Centreville.
Mr. Beauvoir's movements, at twenty-seven minutes past two yesterday
afternoon, were few and simple. He doubled Mr. Kilburn up, after the
fashion of an ordinary jack-knife, and placed him in the barrel,
wedge-extremity first, remarking, as he did so, "She is, is she?" He
then rammed Mr. Kilburn carefully home, and put the cover on.
We learn to-day that Mr. Kilburn has resumed his professional duties on
the road.
Account of the same event from the New Centreville "Standard" December
24th, 1878:
It seems strange that even the holy influences which radiate from this
joyous season cannot keep some men from getting into unseemly wrangles.
It was only yesterday that our local saw a street row here in the quiet
avenues of our peaceful city--a street row recalling the riotous scenes
which took place here before Dead Horse experienced a change of heart
and became New Centreville. Our local succeeded in gathering all the
particulars of the affray, and the following statement is reliable. It
seems that Mr. Kilburn, the gentlemanly and affable advance agent of the
Nina Saville Dramatic Company, now performing at Andy Hanks' Opera House
to big houses, was brutally assaulted by a ruffianly young Englishman,
named Beauvoir, for no cause whatever. We say for no cause, as it is
obvious that Mr. Kilburn, as the agent of the troupe, could have said
nothing against Miss Saville which an outsider, not to say a foreigner
like Mr. Beauvoir, had any call to resent. Mr. Kilburn is a gentleman
unaccustomed to rough-and-tumble encounters, while his adversary has
doubtless associated more with pugilists than gentlemen--at least any
one would think so from his actions yesterday. Beauvoir hustled Mr.
Kilburn out of Mr. McMullin's, where the unprovoked assault began, and
violently shook him across the new plank sidewalk. The person by the
name of Clark, whom Judge Jones for some reason now permits to edit the
moribund but once respectable Gazette, caught the eye of the congenial
Beauvoir, and, true to the ungentlemanly instincts of his base nature,
pointed to a barrel in the street. The brutal Englishman took the hint
and thrust Mr. Kilburn forcibly into the barrel, leaving the vicinity
before Mr. Kilburn, emerging from his close quarters, had fully
recovered. What the ruffianly Beauvoir's motive may have been for this
wanton assault it is impossible to say; but it is obvious to all why
this fellow Clark sought to injure Mr. Kilburn, a gentleman whose many
good qualities he of course fails to appreciate. Mr. Kilburn,
recognizing the acknowledged merits of our job-office, had given us the
contract for all the printing he needed in New Centreville.
Advertisement from the New York "Clipper" Dec. 21st, 1878:
WINSTON & MACK'S GRAND INTERNATIONAL MEGATHERIUM VARIETY
COMBINATION. COMPANY CALL.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Company will assemble for rehearsal, at
Emerson's Opera House, San Francisco, on Wednesday, Dec 27th, 12 M
sharp. Band at 11. J.B. WINSTON EDWIN R. MACK--Managers. Emerson's
Opera House, San Francisco, Dec. 10th, 1878. Protean Artist wanted.
Would like to hear from Nina Saville. 12-11.
My Dear Mr. Beauvoir--I was very sorry to
receive your letter of yesterday--very sorry--because
there can be only one answer that I can
make--and you might well have spared me the
pain of saying the word--No. You ask me if I love
you. If I did--do you think it would be true
love in me to tell you so, when I know what it
would cost you? Oh indeed you must never
marry me! In your own country you would
never have heard of me--never seen me--surely
never written me such a letter to tell me that you
love me and want to marry me. It is not that I
am ashamed of my business or of the folks around
me, or ashamed that I am only the charity child
of two poor players, who lived and died working
for the bread for their mouths and mine. I am
proud of them--yes, proud of what they did and
suffered for one poorer than themselves--a little
foundling out of an Indian camp. But I know
the difference between you and me. You are a
great man at home--you have never told me how
great--but I know your father is a rich lord, and I
suppose you are. It is not that I think you care
for that, or think less of me because I was born
different from you. I know how good--how
kind--how respectful you have always been to
me--my lord--and I shall never forget it--for a girl
in my position knows well enough how you might
have been otherwise. Oh believe me--my true
friend--I am never going to forget all you have
done for me--and how good it has been to have
you near me--a man so different from most others.
I don't mean only the kind things you have
done--the books and the thoughts and the ways
you have taught me to enjoy--and all the trouble
you have taken to make me something better than
the stupid little girl I was when you found me--but
a great deal more than that--the consideration
you have had for me and for what I hold best in the
world. I had never met a gentleman before--and
now the first one I meet--he is my friend. That is
a great deal.
Only think of it! You have been following me
around now for three months, and I have been
weak enough to allow it. I am going to do the
right thing now. You may think it hard in me if
you really mean what you say, but even if everything
else were right, I would not marry you--because
of your rank. I do not know how things are at
your home--but something tells me it would be
wrong and that your family would have a right to
hate you and never forgive you. Professionals
cannot go in your society. And that is even if I
loved you--and I do not love you--I do not love
you--I do not love you--now I have written it you
will believe it.
So now it is ended--I am going back to the line
I was first in--variety--and with a new name. So
you can never find me--I entreat you--I beg of
you--not to look for me. If you only put your
mind to it--you will find it so easy to forget me--for
I will not do you the wrong to think that you
did not mean what you wrote in your letter or
what you said that night when we sang Annie Laurie
together the last time.
Items from San Francisco "Figaro" of December 29th, 1878:
Nina Saville Co. disbanded New Centreville. 26th. No particulars
received.
Winston & Mack's Comb. takes the road December 31st, opening at Tuolumne
Hollow. Manager Winston announces the engagement of Anna Laurie, the
Protean change artiste, with songs, "Don't Get Weary," "Bobbin' Around,"
"I Yoost Landet."
Bill sent to William Beauvoir, United States Hotel, Tuolumne Hollow,
Cal.:
Tuolumne Hollow, Cal., Dec. 29, 1878.
Wm. Beauvoir, Esq.
Bought of HIMMEL & HATCH,
Opera House Block,
JEWELLERS & DIAMOND MERCHANTS,
Dealers in all kinds of Fancy Goods, Stationery and Umbrellas, Watches,
Clocks and Barometers.
TERMS CASH. MUSICAL BOXES REPAIRED.
Dec. 29, One diamond and enamelled locket......... $75.00
One gold chain........................................... 48.00
-------
$123.00
Rec'd Payt.Himmel & Hatch,
per S.
Letter from Cable J. Dexter, Esq., to Messrs: Pixley and Sutton, San
Francisco:
NEW CENTREVILLE, CAL., March 3, 1879.
Messrs. PIXLEY & SUTTON:
GENTS: I am happy to report that I have at last
reached the bottom level in the case of William
Beaver, alias Beaver Bill, deceased through Indians
in 1861.
In accordance with your instructions and check,
I proceeded, on the 10th ult., to Shawgum Creek,
when I interviewed Blue Horse, chief of the Comanches,
who tomahawked subject of your inquiries
in the year above mentioned. Found the Horse
in the penitentiary, serving out a drunk and disorderly.
Though belligerent at date aforesaid,
Horse is now tame, though intemperate. Appeared
unwilling to converse, and required stimulants
to awaken his memory. Please find enclosed
memo. of account for whiskey, covering extra
demijohn to corrupt jailer. Horse finally stated
that he personally let daylight through deceased,
and is willing to guarantee thoroughness of decease.
Stated further that aforesaid Beaver's
family consisted of squaw and kid. Is willing to
swear that squaw was killed, the tribe having no
use for her. Killing done by Mule-Who-Goes-Crooked,
personal friend of Horse's. The minor
child was taken into camp and kept until December
of 1863, when tribe dropped to howling cold
winter and went on government reservation. Infant
(female) was then turned over to U.S. Government
at Fort Kearney.
I posted to last named locality on the 18th ult.
and found by the quartermaster's books that, no
one appearing to claim the kid, she had been duly
indentured, together with six Indians, to a man
by the name of Guardine or Sardine (probably the
latter), in the show business. The Indians were
invoiced as Sage Brush Jimmy, Boiling Hurricane,
Mule-Who-Goes-Crooked, Joe, Hairy Grasshopper
and Dead Polecat. Child known as White Kitten.
Receipt for Indians was signed by Mr. Hi.
Samuels, who is still in the circus business, and
whom I happen to be selling out at this moment,
at suit of McCullum & Montmorency, former partners.
Samuels positively identified kid with variety
specialist by name of Nina Saville, who has
been showing all through this region for a year
past.
I shall soon have the pleasure of laying before
you documents to establish the complete chain of
evidence, from knifing of original subject of your
inquiries right up to date.
I have to-day returned from New Centreville,
whither I went after Miss Saville. Found she had
just skipped the town with a young Englishman
by the name of Bovoir, who had been paying her
polite attentions for some time, having bowied or
otherwise squelched a man for her within a week
or two. It appears the young woman had refused
to have anything to do with him for a long
period; but he seems to have struck pay gravel
about two days before my arrival. At present,
therefore, the trail is temporarily lost; but I expect
to fetch the couple if they are anywhere this side
of the Rockies.
Awaiting your further instructions, and cash
backing thereto, I am, gents, very resp'y yours,
MY DEAR BOY: In the sudden blow which has
come upon us all I cannot find words to write.
You do not know what you have done. Your
uncle William, after whom you were named, died
in America. He left but one child, a daughter,
the only grandchild of my father except you.
And this daughter is the Miss Nina Saville with
whom you have formed so unhappy a connection.
She is your own cousin. She is a Beauvoir. She
is of our blood, as good as any in England.
My feelings are overpowering. I am choked by
the suddenness of this great grief. I cannot write
to you as I would. But I can say this: Do not
let me see you or hear from until this stain be
taken from our name.
Advertisement under head of "Marriages," from the New York "Herald,"
April 30th, 1879:
BEAUVOIR--BEAUVOIR.--On Wednesday, Jan. 1st, 1879, at Steal Valley,
California, by the Rev. Mr. Twells, William Beauvoir, only son of Sir
Oliver Beauvoir, of Chelsworth Cottage, Surrey, England, to Nina, only
child of the late William Beauvoir, of New Centreville, Cal.
Extract from the New York "Herald" of May 29th, 1879:
Among the passengers on the outgoing Cunard steamer Gallia, which left
New York on Wednesday, was the Honorable William Beauvoir, only son of
Sir Oliver Beauvoir, Bart., of England. Mr. Beauvoir has been passing
his honeymoon in this city, and, with his charming bride, a famous
California belle, has been the recipient of many cordial courtesies from
members of our best society. Mr. William Beauvoir is a young man of
great promise and brilliant attainments, and is a highly desirable
addition to the large and constantly increasing number of aristocratic
Britons who seek for wives among the lovely daughters of Columbia. We
understand that the bridal pair will take up their residence with the
groom's father, at his stately country-seat, Chelsworth Manor, Suffolk.
