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“The weather yesterday, to have been acceptable to Hamilton people, should have been the proverbial Queen’s weather. But it was not. The day opened with indications of rain, and before it was far on, the lowering clouds began to discharge their contents. This spoiled the contemplated procession. It spoiled everything. Pipers, who a few moments before were anxious for a good blow, were paralyzed by the rain fall. There was nothing for it but to go up to the park and risk a drenching, or stay downtown and miss a big procession.”¹

¹ “Hamilton’s Holiday : How the Event Was Observed Yesterday.”

Hamilton Spectator.   August  21, 1883.

The damp weather of the early morning hours of Hamilton’s Civic holiday, Friday, August 20, 1883, had the effect of spoiling the holiday for many Hamiltonian’s, but only at the start of the day.

The grounds of Dundurn were left very moist long after the rain clouds had passed on:

“The order was ‘keep off the grass; no reporters or anyone else carried free.’ It was religiously carried out. Nevertheless, there was a fair turnout of the newspaper gang and they took their fate like real martyrs. It was a good day for the tailors and the laundrys.”¹

Around the noon hour, the weather, which had been threatening all morning, broke again:

“It was not the kind of rain which the poet sings of :

“ ‘Tis the golden gleam of an autumn day,

   With the soft rain falling as if in play,

   And a tender touch upon everything

   As if autumn remembered the days of spring.’

“It was heavy. It was fierce. It came down in chunks. The reporter was so wet that he wanted to take to the swamp to disrobe. But he held it out. Everybody else was else and that gave him some consolation. The conductor on his car was abnormally sober and sorry for it. But a cheery soul began to sing:

‘Wait till the clouds roll by, Jennie

 Wait till the clouds roll by,

 Jenny, my own true loved one,

 Wait till the clouds roll by.’

“This enlivened the proceedings, and sure enough, the clouds did roll by and give us such weather as must have delighted the hearts of all. The sun broke through the murky mass, and beamed with old-time brilliancy on the mud bespattered streets, and the rain-begrimed raiment of the promenaders and processionists. The storm was over, and the fun began.”¹

Once the storm was played out, the delayed procession made its appearance, and proceeded to Dundurn park where, over the afternoon, a crowd of 4,000 had gathered:

“In one quarter, the games were in progress, in another dancing was going on; over there, the strolling musicians gathered an audience, and the soft-eyed Italian girl held her listeners spellbound by the mystic magic of her sweet contralto; the refreshment booths were surrounded by a big throng; the dancing platform was well-patronized, and altogether the people seemed to enjoy themselves to the full.”¹

 

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The military band of the Thirteenth Battalion Band was not only useful and highly efficient as regards providing martial music for marching drills, it was an extremely popular musical organization, hired for non-military events.

In the summer of 1883, the federal leadership of that volunteer militia ruled that the members of the Thirteenth Band could no longer wear their striking scarlet uniforms at non-military events.

In response to that ruling, a Spectator reporter conducted the following interview with a member of the band:

          “ ‘And so you can’t wear your military uniform to Rochester,’ remarked a Spectator reporter to a bandsman the other night, as together they wended their way towards the drill shed

          “ ‘It seems not,’ replied the bandsman, giving his coronet a shake. ‘I suppose those Ottawa people think we wouldn’t be loyal to the Queen if we did so, but never mind, we are going to fix things up to suit ourselves, and don’t you forget it.’

          “ ‘If the colonel or someone else don’t sit on you,’ put in the reporter.

          “ ‘Well, it is just like this; for a long time back there has been kicking and grumbling both in and out of the battalion, and even in the band, about the restrictions the band is placed under. You would think we were all little boys who didn’t know how to take care of ourselves the way orders are laid down to us. Now we can take care of ourselves, and we are going to do so. At a business meeting of the band the other night, we decided to buy new suits for ourselves; a complete military uniform that will lay away anything in the military line in this country. When we get that we can go where we like and play for whom we please, Orangemen, Emeralds, and any party or person who will pay us.’

          “ ‘But how about the instruments? Don’t they belong to the officers of the battalion?’

          “ ‘Yes, they do, but that does not make much difference. As long as we do our duty in the battalion, the officers won’t object to letting us have the instruments; at least, they never have objected yet, and if they should take such a notion into their heads, we can easily raise enough to get instruments of our own also.’

          “ ‘When you get these rigs, you will be able to advertise as the Thirteenth battalion band?’

          “ ‘ Yes, I guess we will, and if we can’t, we will devise some scheme by which we will be known as the Thirteenth.’

          “ ‘When will the suits be ready; in time to be worn this season?’

          “ ‘Oh, yes, when the Thirteenth battalion band decides on anything, you may look for it in short order. In the meantime, we must be satisfied to play for those the order allows.’ ”

          “The Thirteenth Batt. Band : the Men to Get New Suits and Play for Whom They Please.”

          Hamilton Spectator.  August 20, 1883.

         

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During a hot August afternoon, in pursuit of material for a column, a Spectator reporter was allowed to escape the heat of the city and go to the Beach. 

His column follows:

          “Quite a crowd of city folks visited the Beach yesterday afternoon, driven out by the heat to the cool and exhilarating breezes coming across the lake. As one sat on a bench before the Ocean House, and looked out on the stretch of yacht-dotted blue waters to where the azure arc met them, he was reminded of a little verse:

          ‘There’s a white, white sail in the distance,

           Over the sea it comes to me;

          There are sweet June flowers blossoming,

          Who shall gather them? We?

           We who gathered a year ago

           Blossoms which paled with winter’s snow,

           Buds which promised a blossoming fair,

           But scattered their petals on summer air.’

          “It was a day in a thousand. In the sunshine, the fierce light which beat on one’s head unprotected by an umbrella was unendurable, but in the shade, with the wind coming in frequent puffs, and the sound of the surf making music in the air, it was quite different. The verandahs were crowded with guests and visitors. In one of the parlors a piano was awakened by master hands, and many voices joined in the melody evoked from the instrument. The players were William Rule and George Lee, the songs were appropriate to the day and situation. Mr. George Smith, a baritone of splendid capacity, led in nearly all the selections.

“At the Beach”

Hamilton Spectator.    August  20, 1883.

         

        

       

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          On Friday evening, August 17, 1883, the summer residents of the Beach decided to hold an ‘at home’ collectively, with most residents agreeing to illuminate their cottages for the occasion:

“The Beach looked beautiful. Not at any time in its history has it looked so beautiful. All along, the rows of cottages were brilliantly illuminated by thousands of Chinese lanterns, both on the lake and bay sides. The effect was magnificent. From Hamilton, the long row of soft, mellow light could be dimly seen, and as the Beach was approached from the bay, and drew nearer and nearer, the radiance of the white light waving to and fro on the gentle evening breeze was reflected a thousand times over in the tiny, laughing, foam-crested wavelets.

“The affair was in every way a great success. The weather was glorious, the Thirteenth band eclipsed itself to do justice to the occasion Beach was honored as it has never been honored before by a vast assemblage of youth, beauty, wealth and wisdom.”¹

¹”The Beach Last Night.”

Hamilton Spectator.  August 18 1883

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On Monday, August 13, 1883, an excursion of  residents of Tonawanda, New York came to Hamilton. Later in the week, the following impression of the City of Hamilton was published in the Tonawanda Herald:

“To those who visited Hamilton two years ago, not a word of praise or explanation is necessary to induce them to recommend the trip to their friends and acquaintances. All who patronized the excursion are loud in their praises of the manner in which they were treated while in that attractive city. The place of rendezvous for all who compose the excursion this year will be Dundurn Park, than which no lovelier spot has ever been visited by our people in their annual outings. It is on the site of what was Burlington Heights, where brave Indian Chief Brant and his warriors encamped. It is an historic and romantic place. Dundurn Castle was the residence of the late Sir Allan Macnab, at one time Prime Minister of the Canadian government, an opulent and highly influential as well as respected public man. He made Dundurn his principal place of residence during his respite from public affairs, especially during the summer months, and is visited everyday by hundreds of people for recreation. The mountain in the rear of Dundurn furnishes a grand view of the city below, the bay, Lake Ontario, and for miles on all sides. No ever regretted going up the mountain that overlooks Hamilton. To those fond of water, Burlington Beach offers every attraction. The Beach is a delightful resort, and hundreds of people will be found there at all times enjoying its beautiful surroundings, refreshing breezes and genuine seaside comforts and appointments. It has been appropriately styled the Long Branch of Canada.”¹

¹ “As Others See Us”

Hamilton Spectator.    August 13, 1883.