by Dorothy Dodds ¹

Mary Ann Gyves wife of Michael Gyves

Michael Gyves Snr came to New York to join his brother John Gyves, to look for [gold?]

Mary Anne Gyves of Cowichan Indian Band. Indian name was Tu-wah-wiye [Tuwahwiye'], her father Chief Tzouhalem’s name was Tsuwhilúm [ Tousilum].² The oldest son of the reigning chief was first in line to succeed the Chief of The Cowichan Indian Band.³ The elders of the band chose the wife for the succeeding Chief. That’s the way the Chief’s wife was chosen.

When the English foreigners came to Canada’s west coast, they sold their names to the Indians for 50 cents. They didn’t know what English name to give to Chief Tzouhalem [ Tousilum]. They said, “Since you are Chief you should have a Royal name.” The reigning monarch of England was from the George line, so they said we will call you George so Chief Tzouhalem’s [ Tousilum’s] family surname became George. After the first family Chief Tzouhalem [ Tousilum] was allowed more wives so Mary Ann Gyves’ half sister on S.S.I. was Mrs. Trage.

Life was hard for the early pioneers as they had to help clear land and build fences also build their homes. Michael Gyves Sr pre-empted land in Burgoyne Valley Fulford harbour as it was well-forested with tall cedar trees which he fell and made shingle which he sold to Victoria customers. The Indians transported the shingles by canoe to Victoria.

Chief Tzouhalem, [Tousilum] father of Mary Ann Gyves. Mother’s name Taltanaat. She was Chief Tzouhalem’s [Tousilum’s] first wife of Chief Tzouhalem’s [Tousilum] first family from which the succeeding chief was chosen from. The elders of the Cowichan Band chose the first wife of the succeeding chief. In those days you were allowed to have as many wives as you wanted, but you had to be rich or a good Indian Doctor, a good hunter and a good provider. With the coming of the white man, the ways of the Cowichan Band were changed to white man’s ways. The chief of the band was selected by majority vote. The chiefs were no longer selected as hereditary chiefs. The Indians conformed to white man’s religion and marriage laws. This came about after the reign of Chief Tzouhalem [Tousilum]. His son Peter was the last hereditary chief. Chief Tzouhalem in the first family with wife Taltanaat. There were three children all grew to be adults, Mary Ann Gyves (née George) Indian name Tu-wah-wiye, sister and one son Peter. I believe that Chief Tzouhalem’s [Tousilum’s] son will succeed his father on the death of Chief Tzouhalem [Tousilum]. He became Chief. My Dad always called him my Uncle. Dad’s sister Mrs. Edward Akerman née Ellen Gyves called him her Uncle. Ellen Akerman was 21 years old when my Dad Michael Gyves Jr was born. Mrs. Ernest (Mary) Brenton née Mary Gyves, my Dad’s youngest sister.

Taken from an interview with a Cowichan Band elder. The interviewer didn’t sign her name. She said she wrote the elder’s words down as he spoke of Chief Tzouhalem.⁴

Tsuwhilúm [Tousilum] had the power to hypnotize animals or human. Tsuwhilúm [Tousilum] was well over 6’ tall and well built. He had a big head and a hunch on his back. He had several wives. One of his daughters married a white man, an Irish man John Maxwell. He was lucky in panning gold during the Cariboo Gold Rush. The miners returning from the cariboo gold rush mostly came back to the BC coast. Some chose to remain behind. Pa Gyves returned to Victoria. He wasn’t lucky in panning money for gold so he returned to his carpentry trades. He made more money building for the miners who chose to stay behind.

After Pa Gyves returned to Victoria he met up with John Maxwell. The miners there camped with their own nationality. John Maxwell was also an Irish man. Pa Gyves was always interested in buying land to homestead but land in Victoria district, Saanich was too expensive. John Maxwell lived on Salt Spring Island. So he told Pa Gyves that land was going cheap on Salt Spring and invited Pa to go back to SSI with him with the view of pre-empting land. John was over in Victoria to buy supplies, transportation was by Indian canoe. Pa accompanied John Maxwell back to SSI. The Indians paddled their canoes with them back to SSI. Pa Gyves was very taken by the tall cedars growing in Burgoyne Valley, Fulford Harbour. Cedars were over 120’ tall. It was exactly what he needed to make shingles from. He could then transport them by canoe via Indians for sale in Victoria as the builders desired shingles for their buildings. Other people made shakes but the buyer preferred Pa Gyves’ manufactured shingles. So he did well with the sale of shingles. He also built barns for the local homesteaders and some on Vancouver Island.

One day a tragedy occurred. Pa Gyves and Mary Ann his wife had gone to church. To their horror they saw smoke rising from their cedar stands. It was arson. They knew it was a set fire but they didn’t have any proof as to who had done it. They thought that they knew some family who was jealous of Pa Gyves’ success. Pa lost his means of trade so he decided to clear the land and fence and go farming. He and his wife Mary Ann cleared the land with the help of oxen. Mary Ann was a very strong woman. She took on the job of hook tending for Pa. It took them 30 years to clear land and fence with the help of Indians, ready for farming. Later they purchased horses. Granny looked after the cows and made butter for sale in Victoria.

Next evening (after the cedar stand was burned) when Michael came in he said very quietly to Mary Ann, they think it (the fire that burn the cedar stand) was set on purpose. John Maxwell saw it when it started for he was up on the hill looking for a steer that had strayed, and these are the signs that make us think, then Michael looked at Mary Anne, with the Good Lord’s help he said we will turn this evil into a blessing he said for the land is still there, and it is good, and we will build such a fine farm out of these ashes, good pasture for the cattle and fine fields of hay and grain. Mary Ann knew that this was no idle dream.

Michael had just finished when they heard a step, and Peter stood in the door. He looked at Michael, “Your enemy has done this” she said, “You and I will punish that man.” Michael saw the agony on Mary Ann’s face, then he turned and spoke quietly to Peter. “It is not for you and I to do this,” he said, “for we are but mortal men and be wrong in our judgements, many times we only know part of what took place and form our own ideas on this. We will leave this up to the Lord,” he said, “and rest assured that he will take care of it.” Mary Ann said softly, “You are a good man Michael.”

“Michael is a great man”, Peter said, “for only a truly great man would have thought such thoughts at a time like this”. He turned to Michael, “I shall do as you say, for there is much wisdom in your words,” he said. Then he sat down by the table and Michael told him of their plans. “With the Good Lord’s help”, he said, “such fine fields we will clear and we will grow fine crops for the land is of the best,” and Michael soon had Mary Ann and Peter seeing in their mind’s eye what he could see. There was much hard work to be done and Michael knew how good his friends were, for when he must fall the large standing cedars — they were burnt and dead — one of them would be there to help him.

The dead cedars made into excellent rails for his snake fences around the fields, for the men of those days were forward looking men and split rails and built snake fences around their fields, then as they made the fields larger they split more rails and moved their fences out. Some of the stumps were very large and Michael knew that it would be next to impossible to get them out with his two oxen, so he would cut off the roots close to the stump and remove just that part of the root that branched out into the field; he could easily plow around the stumps he knew.

He and Mary Anne were up early and finished their chores, then off to the land clearing. Mary Anne was the hook tender and what a difference this made, Michael thought, for she was a good and speedy worker, and having such a happy cheerful little person around to help made the work seem like nothing, and together they shared the joy of watching their dreams become a reality.

It was hard work, but what a fine work, he thought. You had to be patient for it was a slow process and he couldn’t give it his undivided time, for he must also earn a living until such time as he got his farm established, but there wasn’t too much need for money, for he and Mary Anne grew much of their food now, and Michael could always shoot a deer for meat whenever he wanted, and there were quantities of pheasants and grouse to be found. Then Mary Anne made fine quilts filled with sheep’s wool and spun much wool for warm sweaters and socks, then she would tan the hides of the deer for warm mats and covers — but still Michael thought, you always need some money.

The years had passed and Michael and Mary Anne had a grown up family now, two daughters and a son. One fine spring morning Michael stood watching his son plow one of the fine fields that he and Mary Anne had cleared. He saw how fine and straight his furrows were. He was a master craftsman with his horses, Michael thought, for it was horses now instead of oxen. The oxen are slow and clumsy, the boy had argued, and Michael had decided the boy was right and his oxen must make way for the team of horses that the boy had a chance to get. The boy was a born horseman, Michael thought, and cared for his horses as he himself had cared for his oxen.

The fields were large now and grew fine crops. They had put some drains in some of the low land, and this grew exceptionally good crops. Michael was a good farmer and he cared for his land and his stock. The boy was the same, Michael thought, and it was good to have such a fine strong son to help him, for there was much to do now that the fields had increased in size, and they had more stock to care for. Well, he must not just stand here for he and Mary Anne must start planting the beans up on the hillside that the boy had plowed and harrowed for them about a week ago. He had over a hundred lbs of seed beans that he had saved, and this should grow enough beans for their own use this winter, and still leave a good surplus to sell for the land was good and just right for beans.

Michael was very busy but very happy and contented. Of course there were some things that annoyed him, for the island was developing now and some of the new ideas that certain newcomers tried to push were not for the good of all the people, just for the profit of a favoured few, and sometimes they pushed these ideas across if you didn’t watch them, for they had time and knew influential people. They were not like the early settlers, but thank the Good Lord there were not too many of those kinds of people, and they didn’t stay very long. Most of the newcomers were good hard-working people, like the early settlers had been, and Michael liked and respected them.

So Michael and Mary Anne prospered on the fine farm that Michael had visualized so many years ago. And now Michael was older, and long hours of hard work had taken their toll, and finally his strength had left him, and worn out, he was called to his rest. Mary Anne didn’t say anything, but she was devastated, and couldn’t reconcile herself to his being taken. It was over a month since he was gone and Mary Anne knew she must come to grips with her great loss. The children wanted her to stay with them, but she thought she might find her peace of mind back in the cabin by herself, and they let her have her way.

It was evening and she sat quietly thinking of Michael. They were sad thoughts. Then she heard a step and there stood her brother Peter in the doorway. Mary Anne got him a pot of tea, and Peter came in and stood, sipping his tea. Then he looked at Mary Anne. “You feel a great loss, my sister,” he said, “and so you will, for Michael was a fine and good man, but he had finished all the tasks that the Good Lord had set for him to do. You and I know he did these tasks well, and now the Good Lord has taken him home, but you and I must still have some tasks left to do, and we must try to do as well as Michael has done. We are not told what these tasks will be, so we must do each task as it is given to us to do. And I think one of your tasks might well be imparting your great store of knowledge and wisdom to your grandchildren.” Then he sat down and they talked about Michael. Peter spoke of his fine hunting companion and good friend. “He had a good and mighty spirit,” he told Mary Anne, “I have seen this often in my good friend,” he said. And Mary Anne knew this was so. Michael would storm and rage at small things, but faced with bigger things, he was always calm, steady and resourceful. And now Mary Anne told Peter of the many generous things Michael had done, and as she and Peter talked together, Mary Anne felt peace coming to her. Peter stood up and Mary Anne knew he must go, and catch the tide to take him home.

After Peter was gone, Mary Anne sat thinking about her past life, how good it had been with Michael by her side. Oh, there had been bad times, and Mary Anne remembered sadly when they had lost their baby son, James, with pneumonia. There had been a priest, who insisted he must have a hot meal brought to him, no matter what the weather. It was a cold windy day with a downpour of mixed rain and snow. Mary Anne had wrapped her babe well in a heavy sweater, and a quilt, and had delivered the hot meal to the priest, but she and the babe were soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone by the time they got home, and the babe sickened and died. Michael had supported her strongly and said very little, but that evening after the babe’s funeral, Michael had suddenly started to pace the floor, and he very softly cursed the priest. His oaths were very terrible. Mary Anne had said nothing, but she trembled, for it was a wicked thing to speak so of a priest, but the Good Lord must have understood the grief of a father, for nothing happened to Michael. Michael had sat quietly down, and now Mary Anne thought it would have been better if she could have done the same, for she had felt a great bitterness against the priest for a long time. Then there was the loss of Michael’s cedars, but together with the help of the Good Lord they had turned that evil into a blessing, for a look at the fine farm they had now, and a fine son to help them, Mary Anne thought on for a time but she was at peace now. After a while she went to sleep and slept gently well into the morning, and she was ready to face the day without Michael, and Mary Anne thought her brother Peter had done one of his tasks well.

So Mary Anne was able to pick up the threads of her life again without Michael and the years ahead were busy, for she had her garden to tend to and sometimes would ask her son to get her a good deer hide, and she would tan it and work it. Then there were her grandchildren and what a joy they were, and she must impart all her knowledge and wisdom to them, for there was so much that the years had taught her, and these were things that only a grandmother could tell them, and they would listen. She sometimes took her grandchildren over to camp on the Indian Reserve in Fulford Harbour, and how good it had all been, for there were the tales of long ago to tell them, how in times long past, they would station their fastest runners up on the hilltop, to keep watch for their enemies coming in great canoe loads to raid them. And at the warning the women and children would go off to hide up in the hills. They would take along a good supply of clams with them to eat, and to this day you would sometimes come across some of their clamshells up in the hills.

Then there was the time when they had their beautiful and valuable masks with them, and they were warned of the approach of their enemies and a strong man had taken their treasure up Maxwell Mountain to hide it and he had hidden it well, but when the danger was past, they couldn’t find them, and to this day they would be somewhere up on Maxwell Mountain. Then Mary Anne would tell them things about the early settlers, Johnny Sparrow who they knew, had been a famous runner, and one day he had run all the way up to the top of Mount Bruce, and then run down again, just to see if he could. The years past, Mary Anne and Michael and the early settlers have gone to their rest, but we must never forget them, and must always remember that it was they who laid the foundation for this fine way of living that we are able to enjoy.

A Memorable Camping Trip by Doreen Dodds (2002)

Well, since I was copying how to cook salmon on an open outdoor fire (See Eric Aki’s Times Colonist, August 9, 2002) I thought I would finish this off by telling you of my own experience when I went camping with Granny Gyves, my grandmother, her sister and brother, all three, Chief Tzouhalem’s [Tousilum’s] first family.⁵ Granny’s brother, Peter was also a Chief at the time while Granny was an Indian princess. Chief Tzouhalem [Tousilum] and his wife Tahtano [Tahtahnat] had passed on.

We camped at Indian Charlie’s reserve at one end of Fulford Harbour. There was a nice spring close to the beach. Granny and I arrived during the day. What a glorious holiday, the best holiday I ever had, except I found it hard to fall asleep as I only had a blanket over the rocky beach. I think I felt every stone (small) under me. Also Granny and her sister talked into the wee hours of the morning. I couldn’t understand. They talked for hours and hours. At last I became so exhausted I fell asleep. The women had a tent, I joined them. I don’t know where the brothers slept. It was wonderful to have no chores, no cheeky young sisters who cheeked me back and absolutely refused to help with the many chores that my older sister Val and I shared.

Early in the morning Granny’s brother and sister were up to catch the slack tide. The salt water is supposed to be purest just before the tide changes. They fetched salt water for cooking. The brother gathered wood to make a large fire that was built over fairly large boulders. When the boulders were red hot, the brother pulled the boulders away from the now low embers. He had gathered wet seaweed to lay over the hot rocks. Steam flew everywhere that he laid the clams on — he and his sister had collected the day before and laid them on the steaming seaweed. Then he layered the clams with more seaweed. Still lots of steam escaping. When the clams opened their shells they were cooked. They were the most delicious clams I ever tasted. Granny’s sister also made biscuits, like our baking powder biscuits with the fresh saltwater. I can’t remember how she cooked them. But all she had was the open fireplace. The buns were done to a turn. After feasting we all climbed into the canoe and went to small islands so Granny Gyves’ brother could dig more clams. We also went to visit Mrs. King. She lived on the seashore of Beaver Point facing east but that’s another story. She had a beautiful flower garden. Granny said “What’s the use of flowers? You can’t eat them.” She answered, “You have to have something for the soul.” I would love to have that camping trip all over again. Granny always took Val on her expeditions as Val was older and able to walk long distances. Granny said I wasn’t strong enough to walk long distances.

Granny always called us “honey”. All young people were “honey”. And she always made tea for Val and me, no matter how young we were. We, Val and I, thought that we were so big drinking tea with Granny in front of the fireplace. We weren’t allowed to drink tea at home.

Granny’s brother Peter and sister couldn’t speak English but you knew they loved you by their tender smiles. We were most welcome to visit them when they paddled from Cowichan to Burgoyne to visit their sister Granny Gyves, bringing lots of presents, food that they preserved such as sacks of smoked fish, dried clams, etc. They also picked berries for jams. Burgoyne Valley was rich in berries, salal, black caps. Happy times. Not a cloud on the horizon. No chores. No brats to look after. Ah me, such was the life!