1883 - August 7

Four days later, on August 7, 1883, the Spectator carried the result of an investigation into the conditions of another  problematic alley:

“Complaints have been made of the bad condition of the alleyway running between Main and Jackson streets from Spring to John streets,

“A reporter took a walk through this alleyway yesterday morning and found that the reports concerning it had not be exaggerated. The alleyway is not very wide, and heaps of rubbish piled on each side have given growth to flourishing beds of burdocks, thistles and other weeds, which are more annoying than ornamental, and have completely blocked up any track for a vehicle which might have once existed. Now it is with difficulty that one can pick his way through without cutting his boots on broken bottles and old tin ware.

“There are, in several places, large manure heaps standing in the middle of the road, and as these places are made the receptacles for other matter, they are not very pleasant additions to the alley.

“There is one poster in the alley to warn people against depositing rubbish, dirt, vegetable or animal matter in that place, but as anyone wishing to read it has to climb up over a heap of manure, it is not perused much.”¹

¹ “Model Alley No. 2 : Points for the Board of Health”

Hamilton Spectator.  August 7, 1883.

Walking a little further east, the reporter came upon an exceptionally offensive portion of the alley:

“From Walnut to Cherry street, the alleyway was kept in fair condition, except near the Cherry street end where the odors that assail a pedestrian give him to understand that he is near a city farm. The person who keeps this assemblage of horses, cattle, pigs and fowls should see that the drains on his premises are in proper working order, as to all appearances the rain has washed a good deal of manure and other refuse matter into the public alleyway.

“From Cherry street to Spring street, where it ends, the alleyway is in very bad condition; very foul and disgusting smells arise from water-closets, and stables alongside of it, and putrefying heaps of garbage, with the usual compliment of old boots, tinware, bones, dead chickens and other rubbish lie stinking in every corner. From one house in this part of the alley all the dirty water and slops are emptied into the road, where it forms a rill of sewerage down the only path that the piles of rubbish and the too luxuriant growth of weeds will permit.”¹

 

(To Be Continued)

1883 - August 3aa

 

As part of its ongoing focus on the unhealthy state of many of the alleys in the city, the Hamilton Spectator, on August 3, 1883, carried a report on the condition of an alley which ran parallel to Market and York streets, between Park and McNab streets :

“The whole of the ground of the alleyway is covered with all kinds of decaying vegetable matter, filthy rags, and manure. The manure, which is piled up high against the fences of other citizens’ yards comes from Ten Eyck’s stables, and that, in the first instance, the public object to. Connected with the stables is a cow house and pig pen belonging to Mr. Thomson. The neighbors would not object to him keeping pigs and cattle in the alleyway if the law allows him to do so, but they decidedly object to it if they are obliged to put up with the noxious odors which arise from these places.¹

¹ “A Model Alleyway : What the Health Inspector Might Look After.”

Hamilton Spectator.   August  03, 1883.

It was learned that the alleyway in question had been recently used as a location to kill and dress three pigs. The refuse matter from that operation had been thrown on a dung heap and left uncovered. Later, a dog was shot and the carcass thrown on Ten Eyck’s manure pile causing anther stench:

“When the reporter it (the alley), there was the manure heap one one hand, a pile of lumber on the other, and a cesspool in the center of the road, leaving very little room even for a man to pass.

“In fact, every person living near who has a dead animal of any kind, a lot of decayed fruit or vegetables, or anything else that would be likely to cause an annoying smell, deposits it in this public alleyway, despite the notices posted up to the effect that all social evil doers will be prosecuted.”¹

 

(To Be Continued)

1883 - August 3a

Around the noon hour, Wednesday August 1, 1883, Mrs. James Foster, 182 Hughson Street North, opened the top of an unused cistern below her bedroom window:

“She saw what she thought was a couple of eggs on top and noticed a dark mess dimly in the water below. She called to the servant girl, ‘Come here. There’s a body of a dog or something in this cistern.’

“The servant girl came and touched the object with a pitchfork, when the horror and surprise of both the women, the body of a child rolled around in the water and sank again.”¹

¹ “Found in a Cistern : Horrible Discovery By Mrs. Foster.”

Hamilton Spectator.   August  01, 1883.

Later that afternoon, after the police had been notified and the body removed to the city hospital for examination, a Spectator reporter interviewed Mrs. Foster who recounted the story of an affair involving a young Irish girl, Maria McCabe. Maria had applied for work as a servant girl, even though, only a few weeks before she had given birth to a boy:

“She had no place to go. The young man in this city whom she alleged was the father of her child, either could or would not contribute towards her support, and out of pure kindness of heart, more than for any other reason, Mrs. Foster took the girl in.”¹

Mrs. Foster bought clothes for the child and gave Maria spare cash. All was fine until the previous April when the child disappeared. Maria could not give a satisfactory reason for the child’s absence. Mrs. Foster was convinced that the partially-decomposed body was that of Maria McCabe’s son.

Later that afternoon, Maria McCabe had been located by the Hamilton police and placed under arrest. She was brought to Chief Stewart’s at No. 1 station in the City Hall where she confessed to having drowned her baby :

“She was sick of it, she said, and wanted to get rid of it. She succeeded in getting rid of it. But retribution is sure to come on evil-doers, and it has come to Maria, although as time worn on she had doubtless grown firm in her belief in immunity from the consequences of her crime.”¹

Later in the evening of August 1, 1883, an inquest was held on the body of the child. A jury was empaneled and taken to No. 3 Police Station to view the body, after which they were returned to the court house to listen to testimony about the child’s death. Mrs. Ann Foster told of discovering the body in her cistern. Chief Stewart testified that the girl, Maria McCabe, had been arrested at the Victoria Hotel and that she had voluntarily confessed to having thrown her child into the cistern:

“She said she was sorry for what she had done, and was willing to suffer for her crime, and she was glad it had been found out and the baby’s body found. She said she had killed the child because Mrs. Foster had turned her out of the house twice. She had no home and no place to go. She felt miserable and sad and saw nothing but trouble and disgrace in the future for herself and her little one. When she appealed to the father of the child, who is well-known in business circles in this city, he laughed at her and refused to give her any help.”²

² “The Infanticide Case : Maria McCabe Makes a Full Confession.”

Hamilton Spectator.    August 2, 1883.

The last witness was Dr. Leslie who had examined the child’s body and testified that the corpse was in such an advanced state of decomposition that it was impossible to determine the cause of death.

The jury returned a verdict indicting Maria McCabe for causing the death of her child. The girl was held in custody for an appearance at Police Court.

On Thursday morning, August 2, 1883, Maria McCabe was brought to police court and committed to trial :

“The girl is slimly built, wears a pink dress and a black Gainsborough hat, and is rather plain in appearance. Her hair is brown; her eyes a bluish gray. Her mouth is full, and there are hard lines about it. Her eyes were red with weeping.”²

After Magistrate Cahill read the charge to her, Maria nervously whispered, ‘I did so, I did so.’

While Chief Stewart presented his evidence, the young woman broke down and burst into tears:

“Crying, she was led into the cells. The sound of her loud, heart-rending cries came floating up from the cells into the court room. She appeared to be in a perfect paroxysm of grief. Her cries grew louder and louder. Then the door was shut and only the occasional smothered yell told what was going on below.”³

³ “That Child Murder : Maria McCabe Committed for Trial”

Hamilton Spectator.   August 2, 1883.

The day after Maria McCabe had been formally charged with the murder of her baby, the following editorial appeared in the Hamilton Spectator:

“A young, unmarried woman of this city has confessed to having murdered her infant child. She is now in prison awaiting trial, and with the legal aspect of the case, we have at this time nothing to say. But there are certain things about this sad affair which call for careful consideration.

“Maria McCabe came to this country not long since from Ireland, a country renowned for the purity of its women. She is not an educated woman, but is possessed of average intelligence, and in the absence of evidence to the contrary, must be adjudged a pure woman when she left home. But in an evil hour, she listened to the voice of a tempter and fell, losing all that makes life worth having.

“It is terrible to think that a mother could so far overcome the natural love she must have had for her offspring as to deliberately compass its death, but it showed that she was not altogether lost to a sense of shame, and the wonder is that she did not also make away with herself. But her crime was discovered, and she now finds herself in a prison cell, an outcast from society. The lesson is soon taught. The young women of this day are as pure as those of any former generation, but the fate of this girl should not be without its effect upon those who need such a warning.

But Maria McCabe was sinned against; and what of the man through whose instrumentality she fell ? There should be no halfway measures. The officers of the law should seek him out and bring him before the bar of justice; and the people of Hamilton will not be true to themselves if, when he is discovered, they do not treat him with all the scorn and contempt his cowardly conduct deserves. Society is too prone to condone the offense of the man and make the woman suffer. Justice requires that he who tempts a woman to commit a wrong should be punished as a co-partner in her guilt; and if the law cannot reach him, he should be made to feel that the people of this city have no sickly sentiment to waste upon such as he.”⁴

⁴ “Maria McCabe”

Hamilton Spectator.   August 3, 1883.

(To be continued)

 

 

 

1883 - August 3

August 3, 1883 was the date chosen for the first annual Trades and Labor picnic. The locale chosen for the event the grounds was in the west end of the city, the Crystal Palace grounds.

An energetic committee had worked long and hard to finalize all the necessary arrangement to make the picnic a great attraction:

“The sports consist of a baseball match between the Primroses and the Baysides for the championship and $50; horse races, bicycle races, a lacrosse match and other games.

“A large attendance is hoped for, and if the weather turns out fine, it should be a great success.”¹

¹ “A Grand Affair : Hamilton Trades and Labor Demonstration on August 3, 1883.
          Hamilton Spectator.   July 31, 1883.

The demonstration committee had called for a “mass meeting” to be held at Larkin Hall on July 30, 1883.

As the well-attended meeting began, Fred. Jones, was chosen chairman and he started proceedings by noting that the object of the meeting was “to give an invitation to all laborers and unorganized branches of labor to join in the demonstration on Friday.”²

² “Labor Demonstration : Mass Meeting of Workmen at Larkin Hall.”

Hamilton Spectator.    July 31, 1883

The first speaker, Robert Coulter, said that the idea for a demonstration was set in motion by a certain group of organized laborers, but that it was hoped that all classes of labor would cooperate to make the day a success.

The Next speaker was Mr. F. Allen :

“He thought that the workmen had too many holidays sometimes, but just when they didn’t want them; for instance, there would be a cornerstone laying, or a Jumbo circus, and then the workingman must take a holiday so the capitalists could have a good time. Now the workingmen were going to take it in a more gentlemanly manner than the capitalist took theirs – they had first given due notice. He was glad that the committee had decided to prohibit the sale of intoxicating liquors on the grounds during the demonstration. The workingmen would show the citizens that they could have pleasure without having any liquor.”²

“Union is strength. This old adage was never more forcibly illustrated in Hamilton than yesterday afternoon, when the monster procession of the city’s artisans filed its way through the street. There has never before been an organized turnout en masse of the workingmen of Hamilton, and the present occasion will therefore long be recollected, marking as it does a memorable epoch in the history of trade unionism.”³

³ “Grand Labor Parade : Splendid Demonstration by Hamilton Workingmen.”

Hamilton Spectator.   August 4, 1883.

The date, August 3, 1883 had been chosen for the mass Hamilton Labor Demonstration because it was the birthday of Uriah Stephens, founder of the Knights of Labor.

A committee of the local chapter of the Knights of Labor had succeeded in uniting most, if not all, of the organized bodies of workingmen in the city with a large number of the city’s unorganized workers.

Over 2,000 people turned up for the start of the procession which had been scheduled to begin at 1 p.m. As so many people had come to take part in the procession, the parade marshals had some difficulty creating an organized line of march:

“The work of organizing a procession of 2,000 people and having it move in a particular order, and at a given moment is an achievement that has not yet been realize by any demonstration committee. Dealing with a score of bodies organized after different forms and having a varying system of official regulations, seeking to combine, in a harmonious whole, men who believe in organization, men who are indifferent to it and men who oppose it, was an undertaking that only a few of the most sanguine men would care to face.”⁴

⁴ “Labor’s Holiday : Grand Demonstration of the Hamilton Trades and Labor Societies.”

Palladium of Labor.   August 11, 1883.

The Palladium of Labor, the newspaper organ of the Knights of Labor, claimed that, despite the chaotic conditions at first, the procession started off only fifteen minutes after the time appointed.

The Hamilton Spectator had a different take on the matter:

“The start was announced for one o’clock, but it was about an hour later before order was evolved out of chaos, and the line of march taken up. To make matters all the worse, clouds gathered, and after lowering ominously for a while, began to discharge their moisture.

“There appeared to be some hitch in the arrangements and the marshals galloped to and fro in a state of great perplexity. People hardly knew the procession had started until it was fairly underway, the intention to follow out the program having to be abandoned.”³

An accurate count of the processionists was not made, but the procession took a full twenty-five minutes to pass a given point and when the head of the parade reached the entrance to the Crystal Palace grounds, the end of the parade was just starting out from the John and King street area at Gore park.

The parade was watched by large numbers of citizens all along the route:

“A dense crowd thronged the streets, numbers perched on verandahs and other available projections over looking the street, and every window along the line of march seemed to have a full complement of heads.”⁴

The Independent Band, numbering thirty-five players, led by Prof. Cotter, headed the parade and played a number of inspiring airs throughout the route of the parade. Brethren of the Knights of Labor locally, and from the nearby communities outside of the city, were given places of honor near the head of the procession, following the Independent Band. The largest out-of-city contingent was the 84 members of the Pioneer Assembly of the Brantford Knights of Labor. Following the Brantford visitors was what described in the Spectator as “a band of musicians in feathers and paint, all Tuscarora Indians, calling themselves the Grand River Band.”³

A notable float in the parade was that of the Longshoreman’s association – a ship on wheels, bunting flying and on her decks, shovels and tubs typical of the longshoreman’s work.

Large contingents from the Amalgamated Carpenters’ and Joiners’ association and the Cigarmakers’ union marched with the banners of the organizations. The firemen, under Chief Aitchison’s direction, also turned out in large numbers, accompanied by several pieces of fire-fighting apparatus. The members of the Typographical Union, No. 129, of Hamilton, marched, 75 in number, each carrying a Japanese parachute or carousel.

Unions and craft associations of all kinds were represented in the procession. Even some of the women laborers of the city took part:

“As if to prove that trades’ unionism is not confined to the sterner sex, some 68 young ladies took part in the demonstration; the committee, with true gallantry, placing hacks at their disposal. They are chiefly shoe operatives.”³

After the lady representatives of Hamilton’s work force came a few wagons decorated for the occasion:

“Gurney & Ware, the well-known firm of scale-makers, turned out, with their workmen, a decorated wagon with a handsome pair of platform scales and other of their wares. The Brickmakers had a wagon indicative of their trade, drawn by a four-in-hand.

“Hamilton, the hub of Canadian industries, is the only place in Canada that supports a workingman’s paper, and the PALLADIUM OF LABOR was the only journal in the city with sufficient interest in the printers’ art and the cause of labor to place a wagon in the procession. The wagon bore devices indicative of the press as the defense of labor and the medium of intellectual elevation of the masses, and distributed from the press a printed sheet with the motto of the journal, ‘The elevation of Labor is the advancement of the State.’ ”⁴

The procession ended up on the Crystal Palace grounds where it broke up, everyone proceeding to take in the events planned at that location.

Over 12,000 people entered the grounds for the afternoon and evening activities, which included a baseball match won by the Baysides over the Primroses:

“The batting throughout was pretty heavy, the fielding good, and the general style of play sharp and decisive. The boys felt happy over their victory and turned handsprings, threw up their hats and hurrahed in elegant shape.”

 There was a tug-of-war which pitted a team led by Fire Chief Aitchison against a team led by carter Tom Brick. The chief’s team won the first tug, but Tom Brick and his cohorts won the next two tugs, taking the $5 prize.

The lacrosse match was unfortunately hindered by the large crowd of spectators who swarmed all over the playing field:

“After a desperate effort to clear a space, which proved unavailing, the redskins plunged into the crowd with ball and sticks and a sort of stampede of the people from one position to the other was kept up while the game lasted. Innocent onlookers were unexpectedly knocked off their pins  or found their legs tangled in a lacrosse stick. The ball now and then struck a hard felt hat with a resounding thus, but for all this, the ground was not cleared and how the game was going, nobody could tell.”⁴

Throughout the afternoon and evening, scores of young people danced on an open platform to the music of the Meakins’ string band.

In the evening, another procession was formed around Gore Park for the march west to the Crystal Palace grounds:

“Every man in the procession carried a Chinese lantern on the end of a stick. The effect was beautiful. Loud expressions of admiration were heard on all sides as the procession wound its glittering way along. The crowd that lined the sidewalks and pressed around the procession was immense. A vast mob followed the band.”³

By 8:30 p.m., the procession had completed its trek. On an improvised platform, preparations for the evening’s meeting had begun:

“The platform was all lit up by Chinese lanterns, as was the interior of the building, in which was a great gathering of people of both sexes and all sizes, promenading or indulging in the pleasures of the mazy.”³

The finale of the day was a meeting which began with the singing of various labor songs by invited soloists, including Mr. Smithers Swanton, singing ‘The Hard Workingman’ and Mr. R. Coleman singing ‘The Nobleman and the Laborer.’

The meeting, indeed that day’s activities ended with a two-hour speech on labor by Mr. David Healey.

 

 

 

1883 - July 28

“The old Hamilton Hospital, now the House of Refuge stands at the foot of John street, fronting Myles’ Wharf. The situation is a pleasant one. The large red brick building stands high up in the air, and the fresh breeze that blows pure and sweet off the bay sweeps through it”

Hamilton Spectator.   July 28, 1883.

The reporter for the Hamilton Spectator followed up his visit to the Aged Women’s home with a visit to the House of Refuge, following up on an invitation by Superintendent William Gilles.

While being shown through the institution, the reporter had the opportunity of chatting with several of the inmates :

“George Roots, one of the oldest patients there is an old Hamiltonian and his memory goes back many years. He is afflicted with weak ankles and cannot walk, though otherwise he is hale and hearty. He recalls easily the time when Hamilton was nothing but a forest almost; when there was only one brick house here; and when the ox was roasted whole, in a cellar in the place where the Royal Hotel now stands.

“ ‘That was a jolly time, sur,’ said the old man. ‘It wur the time Sir Allan MacNab wur here, and wine and beer flowed as free as water, an’ anyone wot wanted a slice of ox cud go right up an’ cut it off.’

“ ‘Where was that sinle brick house?’

“ ‘That, sur, wur Dr. O’Reilly’s, and wur right by the corner of King and Mary. Yes, Hamilton wuz a queer place in them days, and many’s a strange thing I’ve seen. Why, I could fill up a whole book about Hamilton in them old days. There’s Ferguson avenoo, that’s named after old Ferguson, who used to have a farm wot run right back to Wentworth street from where the avenoo is. Yes, sur, that wur a big farm; and Ferguson wur a nice man. How do I like the place? Well, sur, well, Mr. Gillies wur a nice man. How do I like the place? Well, sur, well, Mr. Gillies here is a nice man, and the missus is a fine woman.’ ”¹

¹ “The House of Refuge : A Walk Through the Home of the Aged and Infirm.”

Hamilton Spectator.   July 28, 1883.

As Superintendent Gillies and the man from the Spectator toured the building, they met many of the institution’s 42 patients. The building, built in 1852 as the city hospital, had served as the House of Refuge, since the previous October 25^th.

The superintendent told the reporter that most of the patients  were cheerful and happy, but occasionally the ladies are jealous of one another:

“ ‘Jealous ! What of ? Of you?’

“ ‘Oh! dear me no ! Poor old bodies ! If one of them gets sick and the doctor gives her medicine, the others all think the doctor ought to give them medicine too, and they get quite jealous of the sick one. It is in that way, I mean,’ and Mr. Gillies laughed.”¹

The man from the Spectator ended his report on the House of Refuge as follows :

“The old people there with the bleared eyes, wrinkled sunken faces, and toothless jaws wag feebly when they talk, could tell some strange tales if they would. They could tell of venturesome journeys through life, of buried hopes and loves. And now that life is in its wintertime with them, they sit there and think of the past. Yet they go on quietly to the end – to the 31^st of some December, when it will all be over and they will go into eternity.”¹

House of Refuge

Image courtesy Local History and Archives, Hamilton Public Library

 

 

 

 

1883 - July 27

"There is certainly no class of people more deserving of a place of refuge – a place where they can rest in peace and feel assured that they have a home and will always receive every attention – than the aged, indigent woman. And the people of this city with their usual generosity have placed them in possession of a very model home”

Hamilton Spectator.   July 27, 1883.

On entering the gate of the Aged Women’s home on Wellington Street South, visitors are presented with a two storey building, surrounded with beautiful grounds:

“There is a fine orchard, and although the crop is not extensive this year, there is enough fruit hanging from the boughs to make the small boy peer wistfully through the cracks in the high board fence. The lawns are green and on a seat in the shade is an old lady quietly reading a paper. As the Spectator advances, she lays down the paper and willingly enters into conversation. She is over 80 years of age, and has been in the home since its opening in 1877. Beside her sits another old lady rapidly running her fingers over the pages of a peculiarly-looking blank book, and at the request of the matron she begins to read, for she is blind and is reading by raised letters – peculiar letters, all seeming to be put sideways, and not in the same shape as ordinary letters. She reads a few lines and the reporter recognizes the Vicar of Wakefield.”¹

¹ “Aged Women’s Home : How the City Supports Its Indigent Females.”

Hamilton Spectator.   July 27, 1883.

Inside the Aged Women’s home, the reporter met an elderly lady of 84 years of age, who had entered her second childhood. She asked repeatedly if her mother and father had been in to see her. In all, twenty women in the home were over 80. For every woman taken into the home, the board of directors would receive $100, a sum either raised by friends or family, by the churches or sometimes by the lady to be admitted herself.

As the reporter was about to leave the Aged Women’s home, he met an active old lady with rosy cheeks, and pleasant smile, coming into the grounds:

“What ! 80 years of age, and has walked to the end of the street railway track, King street, and is not the least bit tired, but goes around to see some of the younger and feebler one inside.

“The Spectator reporter walks over the lawn and down the gravel walk to the street in the bustle of the city, musing on the tenacity with which those who have apparently nothing to live for, cling to life.”¹

Aged Women's Home Image courtesy PreVIEW, Local History and Archives, Hamilton Public Library

 

 

 

1883 - July 26

For Hamiltonians in 1883 who were inclined to fish or hunt, the presence of the bay on the city’s doorstep was welcome. Although there were some signs of the water becoming polluted in some sections, it was generally believed that all fish pulled from the bay were edible.

During the morning of July 26, 1883, an interview was made a member of a local organization created with helping the hunting and fishing in the Hamilton vicinity from being exploited and even eradicated by illicit means:

“The Fish and Game Protective Association, of this city, said Mr. McKeand to a Spectator reporter this morning, has done good service for sportsmen in and around Hamilton. At present, it has a membership of from 160 to 180, comprising the best men of the community, and it is in a position to employ a number of game-keepers to look after pot hunters and others who offend against the law. Consequently, the honest sportsmen are protected from the poachers who sweep the waters with small-meshed nets, and snare game in the fields and woods.

“To encourage fishing, I offer a prize of $5 to whoever lands the largest bass or pike. So far, the heaviest caught has been one weighing 5 pounds, 4 ounces.

“Yes, fishing in the Bay is good at present, but it will improve as the season advances. There is very little fly-fishing done here, but bait fishing is one of the principal amusements of the people. The baits in use are crawfish, natural or artificial, grasshoppers, minnows and worms. I think the grass hopper bait is the most attractive at this time of year. However, there are differences of opinion.

“Trolling will not commence for some time yet as the weed s are now very high. The gunning season will open on August 1, when the close period for woodcock will end. The snipe and mallard, gray duck, black duck, wood and summer duck season will open on August 15. Sportsmen are getting ready for it now, and we may expect to hear some lively popping shortly.”¹

¹“Fishing in the Bay : The Season Said to be a Good One – Opening of the Gunning Season.”

Hamilton Spectator.   July 26, 1883.