1883 - July - 6

In late July 1883, a Spectator reporter went on a tour of inspection, checking out conditions at two of Hamilton’s public institutions located on Barton Street East. The jail and hospital officials were had been contacted to show him around their facilities.
          Through the kindness of Captain Henery, who supervised the 26 prisoners at the Barton Street Jail, an arrangement was made for Jailer Morrison to show the reporter through the building:
          “Mr. Morrison led the reporter first into the kitchen, where two able-bodied prisoners, arrayed in degrading prison livery, were firing up under two immense coppers – one containing potatoes and the other a mixture of oatmeal. In the morning, the prisoners are regaled with gruel; at midday, they have meat and potatoes, or bread and potatoes on alternate days; at night they have bread. There was a time when porridge was the chief diet, with trimmings of salt and a drink of water, but through the Government who raised the diet at the suggestion of Mr. Langmuir, inspector of prisons, the prisoners are allowed the solace of a potato now and then, just to remind them of outside luxuries. Spring chicken, plum pudding and strawberry pie have no meaning in the jail.”^1
1 “A Visit to the Jail : Employment Required for the Prisoners”
Hamilton Spectator. July 23, 1883.
          Out in the jail yard, the reporter recognized one of the prisoners who was in jail, convicted of selling liquor without a license:
          “It is surprising what a change the prison garb makes in a man. It seems to retain, in a concentrated form, all the vileness of former owners, which it immediately imparts to the wearer. Go down to one of the clubs or hotels and take the most fashionable dude that can be found. Bring him up to the jail, cut his hair, and put him in a jail suit, jerry hat and all, and a hardened, devil-may-care look will come over him in a short time, and anyone who does not know him would pronounce him a dangerous fellow.”¹
                Back inside the jail, the reporter recognized another one of the prisoners. It was the infamous Mr. Livingstone, the veteran drunk, who was in an apartment which housed a miscellaneous collection of paint pots, bottles of oil and brushes :
          “He laughed and nodded as the jailer passed the usual civilities. Livingstone is the jail painter, and he is scarcely ever out of a job. It is sad to think that this poor, old man has spent the best part of his life in jail because he has not the resolution, nor the will, to overcome his low habit.”¹
                In a separate part of the jail, the reporter observed the female portion of the jail population, the most of whom had been in the ranks of the drunk and dissolute on the outside:
          “It is to be regretted that no employment has been furnished for the inmates. Lolling in the window seats or walking idly in the yard does not improve morally or physically, and some means of occupying the time, which seems to hang heavily upon them, should be devised.”¹
                Before the reporter left, the jailer showed him the balls and chains which, in former times, had been used when prisoners did outside work.
          When the reporter called at the hospital, neither the resident physician, nor any of his aides, were available to take him on a tour of the facilities:
          “But, through the courtesy of a matron, a light-footed young lady, showed him over the building, pointing out such features as would prove interesting to him:
          “There were between 50 and 60 patients now in the institution. In one of the wards, eight or ten men were in bed, while one, who seemed to be suffering from general weakness, sat with his head leaning on a table. Here and there, flowers were to be seen, and the rooms were made as light and airy as possible. An apartment at the end of the male ward is set aside for the use of convalescent patients, several of whom were engaged in reading and playing draughts.”^{2
                2}“In the Hospital : A Few Remarks About the Barton Street Institution:
          Hamilton Spectator.  July 23, 1883.
                The reporter was of the opinion that Hamilton’s hospital facilities were of the highest order:
          “Everything in and around the building gives evidence of careful management. All the appliances which science has devised for the treatment of disease and for the alleviation of human suffering have been taken advantage of in furnishing the hospital. The medical attendance is the most efficient, and the matron and nurses are said to take rank with those of any similar institution in Canada. Many people are prone to look on the hospital as they look upon the workhouse – the last resort for needy people and think it is something in the nature of a disgrace to seek admission to one. This is a very fallacious view to take. Hospitals are now excellently conducted that patients admitted to them receive as good if not better treatment and attendance as they would in their own homes. ”²
          The reporter concluded his brief article by declaring that “a visit to the hospital in this city will convince anyone that it is well-equipped for the purposes for which it is intended. If there one charitable institution which requires more than another generous support at the hands of the public, it is the General Hospital”²