The Fantastic Tale Of Frances Rattenbury

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Speaking of frozen in time, here in the log house, I have been sitting back with a book about the more famous characters in historic Victoria.

There is the story of a wealthy woman who never went outside and left a fortune to her parrot, a ghost that haunts the golf course - her shoes found stuffed into the pockets of her husband rolling dead in the surf, and then there is the strange tale of Francis Rattenbury. He was swashbucklingly handsome, and I suspect debonair, and his life was charmed, a British architect who was given fantastic commissions, for one, the famous landmark that is the Victoria Parliament. He was renowned and respected and lived in a handsome mansion on the waterfront of Oak Bay. But here we go - his marriage was dull and it was not enough. He wanted more.

Debonair Frances Rattenbury

 

Alma, a beauty. 

He pursued Alma, a beautiful concert pianist. They moved into the marital home, his horrified wife and children huddled on the upper floor.  Much to his surprise, the new couple were reviled by Victorian society and life became difficult.

When a business partner drowned on the Titanic, a speculative venture was sunk and more bad decisions around money with investments in the Klondike gold-rush that went awry left Rattenbury crippled. Already prone to depression, he turned increasingly to drink. 

With a move to England, Alma, who perhaps found this all very trying, took up with the gardener, a much younger man. In a fit of jealous rage the gardener killed Francis Rattenbury. The concert pianist stabbed herself six times in the breast and threw herself into the River Stour. The gardener served time in jail and was freed years later. 

So there you have it. A big mess when all should have been perfectily splendid, lemonade with cucumber sandwiches, and cricket with white gloves.

Victoria Parliament designed by Rattenbury.