1883 - June - 3

        A visitor to Hamilton in June 1883, identified only as Mr. Trevellick, visited Hamilton and was given a tour of the city. He later spoke with a Spectator reporter and a portion of the conversation follows :
          “ ‘I drove today with one of your aldermen,’ said Mr. Trevellick last night, ‘to the top of the mountain, and though I have visited many cities in both the old and new worlds, I never saw such a beautiful and grand panorama of lovely nature as was unfolded to my eyes today from your mountain top. But I can’t see why your people have such glorious surroundings should allow their streets to be in the abominably dirty and disgraceful condition that they are in today. Although the surroundings are beautiful, you cannot be happy with them, for our happiness depends not only on the use of things, but where to use them and how to use them, and you do not use your surroundings right or you would have your streets harmonize with them.”¹

¹ “Hamilton and Its Streets : What Mr. Trevellick Thinks After a Tramp Around Town and a Visit to the Mountain Top.”

Hamilton Spectator.  June 27, 1883

On Wednesday June 27, 1883, the Spectator published an extensive history of the strip of land known as the Beach Strip.

The article focused on the period from 1823 to 1883 :

“The beach in 1823 was the same narrow strip of land that now divides Lake Ontario from Burlington Bay; but, it was then covered by low scrubby oak and undergrowth, the only path through which was an Indian trail leading to the camps of the Six Nations Indians, which were pitched at different points along the beach. The vicinity of the bay was then swarming with game of all kinds, and it was no trouble for a man to go out before breakfast and procure enough game to last for several weeks. At that time, there was no white inhabitant at the beach, and in Hamilton itself, there were only three brick houses built.”²

² “Burlington Beach : A Few Interesting Facts in Its History”

Hamilton Spectator.  June 27, 1883.

Around 1823, a number of fishermen, emigrating from Nova Scotia, took up settlement on the beach strip, including the Dynes, Shabaneaugh, Corey and Fish families. In the early 1820s, it was necessary for area residents to go to York (Toronto) to get their corn ground:

“As this was a great inconvenience, John Dynes procured a grant of land from the Government on the promise that he would establish a mill to grind corn for the neighbors, which he continued to do for many years.”²

Also, early in the 1820s, there was no connection between the lake and the bay, except for a small outlet which dried up in the summer. All freight destined to Hamilton on lake freighters had to be landed at the Beach, carried across the strip of land, and then taken across the bay in scows.

In 1829, a five year project to construct a canal across the Beach strip was begun:

“That canal was 22 feet wide, 500 yards long and 8 feet deep, and it was provided with a wooden swing bridge for the accommodation of foot passengers and vehicles, but as this bridge was only a few feet above the water line, it was carried away one night on the decks of a small schooner and deposited in the bay. After this accident, a ferry was provided, and a man procured to run it across the canal for the convenience of the fishermen.”²

The ferry was first operated by Captain Thompson who ran it for 18 years at a salary of $600 a year, paid by the Marine and Fisheries and Inland Revenue departments. As the ferry did not average more than one trip per month, it was quite easy for one man to carry all the responsibilities of both ferryman and lighthouse keeper.

In 1844, the canal was enlarged and the piers were rebuilt, making the canal 170 feet wide at the lake entrance and 126 feet wide at the bayside, with a total length of 100 yards. The depth of the canal varied between 18 and 25 feet, except for an obstruction, a sandbar running across the channel which was only 12 feet 9 inches below the surface.

By 1852, the traffic across the canal was up to an average of five vehicles a day, necessitating the hiring of a ferryman who was paid out of the lighthouse keeper’s salary.

In 1877, the Dominion government leased the beach property to the city of Hamilton for a summer resort. The Beach road was then clayed and graveled. Then the Hamilton and Northwestern railway was laid across the strip of land, making it convenient for city residents to reach the area.

Summer residences began to be constructed :

“Within the last three years, 1880-1883, 78 beautiful summer residences have been built within a quarter mile from the canal, the ferry has been run from daylight to dark, the two lighthouses have been attended to with the strictest regularity, and the whole of the Government property is being well looked after and is in good condition.”²

“ ‘If this rain don’t stop right smart,’ said a reporter going home about 12:30 last night to a policeman, who was keeping out of the rain from a veranda on John street, ‘there’s going to be some fun before morning.’ The scribe’s prophecy was right. There was some fun before morning.”³

³ “Rain on the Rampage : Wednesday Night’s Storm and the Disasters It Caused”   Hamilton Spectator. June 28, 1883

The heavy rainfall of Wednesday, June 27, 1883 began about 7 p.m. and kept increasing in severity as the night progressed.

The main problem caused by the vast amount rainfall occurred in the southwestern portion of the city where the water running down from the mountain caused considerable flooding. Damage was extensive to many properties in the area.

Around 1877 or 1878, a pipe drain had been built on the mountain top by the city authorities. It’s purpose was to accommodate any heavy overflow in severe rain events, overflows which had regularly flooded the cellars of many homes near the escarpment.

Early in 1883, part of the earthwork under the drain had given away, and the matter had not been repaired by the city.

Water which should have been running through the drain was simply spreading over the fields :

“Wednesday night’s heavy rain filled the drain almost to overflowing, but the water soon found an outlet in this hole, and came rushing across the fields in a small stream at first, but gradually increasing in volume until a perfect torrent wound its way along. The course of this stream was in a zig-zagy direction, but it finally reached the barn of the Mountain View hotel, poured over the stone edge by it, came around in front of the barn and into a large pond that has been dug out in Jocelyn’s quarry.”³

As the water filled the pond, it bypassed a drain which formerly used to handle the overflow. The water rushed down the road in that vicinity in a great torrent towards the toll gate and the John street steps ending up near an embankment where it went over the edge with a roar:

“As an eye-witness said to a reporter this morning, it looked like a miniature Niagara Fall. For fully 60 feet along the side, it poured over in a perfect torrent. In a few minutes, the steps looked as if they had been struck by lightning. Some of them went sailing down John street.”³

Below the mountain brow, the rampaging torrent of water caused great damage, particularly to a house owned by Mr. E. Brown, where two immense gullies were carved out:

“These gullies are about fifty feet apart, and both are fully 30 feet deep. The water rushed down through the yard and around the house creating great destruction as it went. Stone fences were thrown down, the yards flooded and the gravel paths swept of their gravel. The cellar is flooded with water. Near the coach house a small shanty stood that was swept away. All around the premises, the ravages are fearful to look at. Huge stones were carried along and deposited in heaps around. Immediately at the back of the premises, a deep gully was cut, through which the water poured down with frightful velocity.”³

After damaging the grounds of Arkledun, the stream split in two, part of it headed towards James street through the property of Mrs. McLaren’s home, Oakbank, causing great damage. The other part of the stream headed straight down John street :

“Great pieces of stone were whirled around here and flung along the roadside. All the flotsam and jetsam of a sea shore are strewn along here. Planks from sidewalks, fences and wood from the John street steps are scattered along.”³

Farther down John street, the torrent of water caused much havoc:

“Probably the first place flooded on John street was the little frame house occupied by Jimmy Hiscox, the chimney sweep. Jimmy’s sign still hangs out there. But the house is empty. It is a wretched little place. Here the water fairly poured in. All down the street, houses were flooded and cellars filled. Drains choked up and the water kept flowing down, utilizing every available outlet. A woman living above the wood market had a hen sitting on some eggs in her cellar. This morning she found both hen and eggs floating around in several feet of water.”³

Where the great stream of water went after it reached Main street, nobody could find out:

“Probably with its bulk reduced through frequent splitting, and by failing into the drains, it gradually died away.”³