1883-11-12wa

 “Sunday night’s storm at Burlington Beach was one which residents there do not wish to see repeated in a hurry.”

Hamilton Spectator.  November 12, 1883.

A storm in mid-November was not uncommon in the Hamilton of the 1880s, but the one on November 11, 1883 was particularly intense.

The Spectator carried two articles about the storm, the first using information gathered along the Beach Strip, including an interview with the lighthouse keeper, Captain Campbell :

“Speaking of the evening’s experience, Capt. Campbell said to a reporter :

“ ‘The Schooner Gulnair got in the piers about 5:30 last night from Cleveland, just ahead of the storm. No storm drum was up at 1:30. The schooner made fast to the piers, and at 7:30, a terrific squall came up from the west, the wind blowing at least 50 miles an hour.’

“The force of the wind as may be imagined was terrible, and the chimney was blown clean off Captain Campbell’s residence at the Beach. A large willow tree on the lake side of the Beach was blown down and carried the fence with it.

“Early in the evening, the captain of the Gulnair remarked of the beautiful sunset, that he liked its appearance, because it was a sign that there would be no wind at night. Captain Campbell replied that storm drum No. 4 was not for nothing, and he had better put out some strong lines. The commander of the Gulnair took the captain’s advice, and when the squall struck the boat, and she careened almost on her beam ends, and the water was blown out of the canal, so that she grounded for the time, he was glad he had done so.

“The propeller Canada had passed through the piers at 5 o’clock bound down the lake. The boat was probably off Toronto at the time the squall reached her. If she had passed Toronto, she would have a hard time of it, more especially as the wind had veered to the northwest.

“Three gentlemen, who were anxious for a Sunday evening constitutional, started to walk from the Ocean House to John Dynes. One of them is rather inclined to corpulence, owing possibly to his peculiar occupation, which, however, is not crooked. A friend advised them not to go, but they laughed at him to scorn. When they returned after the squall had got through with them, the laugh was on the other side. One was hatless, a second covered with mud, while the fat man had a rent in his inexpressibles, got while going over a fence in front of the wind. They tell it for a fact that the fat man was blown over the fence, another blown down the middle of the road, and the third lost his hat and only saved himself by clinging to a verandah at Glassco’s house. “¹

¹  “A Beach Scene : The Story of a Windy Evening – A Fat Man’s Fate”

Hamilton Spectator.   November  12, 1883.

Across the bay, the wind was somewhat lessened in velocity as the city was sheltered by the escarpment. Nevertheless, the wind did cause some damage:

“The high wind which struck the city suddenly yesterday evening, caused considerable damage to property in the city.

“The storm carried away the awning in front of M. E. Thorner’s bookstore on James street, and smashed the plate glass window of the store. Two brick houses on Erie Avenue, near Main street, being built by Mr. Thomas Evans, were struck by the storm and razed to the ground. One of them was nearly finished, the shingling only remaining to be done, the other was in an unfinished state, the brick work not being completed.

“About 8 o’clock, the fire department were informed a tower on the Ontario Cotton mill had fallen and crashed on a house; at the same time, a violent ringing of the alarm was heard, and the hook and ladder truck proceeded to the scene of the accident, but the men found it not so bad as reported. The flagstaff and roof of the northeast tower had blown off, and struck the fence adjoining Richard Williamson’s house. The wires of the department were found broken, which had evidently caused the alarm. The breakage was quickly remedied by the men.

“The wind caused a great many alarms to be sounded, which kept the firemen on the alert.

“The wind finally brought on a violent storm of sleet, which was very disagreeable to pedestrians.”²

² “A Violent Storm : Damage Done to City Property Last Night”

Hamilton Spectator.   November  12, 1883.

 

 

 

1883-10-25ux

Sometimes reporters found their stories in hotels, chatting with people who had tales to tell. Such was the case with a story which appeared on October 25, 1883 when a man from the Spectator dropped into the big hotel on James Street North and overheard a conversation involving traveling salesmen.

          Appearing under the headline, “Exchange of Clothes” the article, in full follows:

          “A party of five or six men, all commercial travelers, sat around the cheerful fire in the grate of the sitting-room at the Royal the other evening, talking about old times and expenses on the road.

          “ ‘Look here,’ said one, a representative of a Toronto wholesale house, ‘that hat of mine I would not exchange for any one in the room.’

          “A number of hats were produced by their respective owners and passed around for examination. Among them was a fine beaver, brand new, and a beautiful seal, but neither of these would the Toronto man take for his Christy, though it was not a very good one. After all the travelers had failed to guess why he would not exchange, the owner of the hat explained that the hat had been given to him by one of his best customers up north, in exchange for a scull cap, which had been made by his mother. The up north customer had been a schoolmate with the traveler’s mother, and the scull cap was looked upon him as a prize.

“ ‘And why do you value the cap he gave you so highly?’ asked a brother traveler. “Because when I go on the north route with it, I am sure to get a big order from the old man.

“Among young men, and some older men, too, there is a good deal of trading in clothes. It is a common thing for a man to go out wearing one hat, and return with another. The exchange is not confined to hats only, but to neckties, silk handkerchiefs, and sometimes even coats.

“There are men who have a mania for trading coats. The writer one Sunday afternoon observed two young men coming down John street mountain steps; when half way down, they suddenly stopped, laughed, said a few words and pulled off their coats. The reporter, thinking there was going to be a fight, drew near, but was surprised to see each attire himself in the other’s coat, and disregarding the fact that the garments did not fit, proceeded homewards and were seen at church the same evening still wearing the exchanged coats.

“Nobody takes any notice of a man changing a garment with another man, but just let a lady try the dodge, and within an hour, it would be all over town that Miss A. had been seen with Miss B’s bonnet on.

“A gentleman, a clerk in a bookstore not far from Hamilton, called at the Spectator office the other day and showed a hat that had been worn by two of his friends before he came into possession of it. The first lad hat left the city and gave the hat to the second for a remembrance, and the second gave it to the third when he (No. 2) left the city to take a situation with No. 1.

“And so it will ever be. Men can wear each other’s hats, neckties or coats, and nobody thinks anything wrong has been done; but just let one of those dear, darling creatures of ladies wear a friend’s hat, how she will be passed around from tip to tip and talked of as if she had done some ‘just awful.’ ” ¹

¹  “Exchange of Clothes : A Habit Among Men of Exchanging Garments : A Hat That Had Been Worn By Half-a-Dozen Men – Handkerchiefs and Neckties, and Sometimes Coats Swapped”

Hamilton Spectator.   October  25, 1883.

1883-10-24rr

“The advantages of public hospitals are certainly inestimable, and in large cities they are to a certain extent a preventive of the spread of diseases. But not too the poor alone are they of benefit. All who cannot at their own homes obtain that skillful care so necessary to the sick can in such institutions, at a small cost, obtain both care and medical treatment that they would not otherwise receive. So varied are the accidents, and so diversified the forms of suffering, that such institutions are indispensable.”

Hamilton Times.    October 24, 1883.

In 1883, hospitals were still regarded as places where only the poor got medical care, most people preferred to remain in their homes when seriously ill.      

In the not-too-distant past, hospitals were considered to be the last resort as the fear of disease, concerns re unsanitary conditions and the widespread opinion that woman who chose to be nurses were of less than respectable character.

On October 24, 1883, the Hamilton Times carried a lengthy article tracing the 36 year history of hospitals in Hamilton to that point:

“In 1847, the City Council considered it necessary that an institution of this kind should be established in Hamilton, and voted a sum of money for that purpose. In 1848, a piece of ground was purchased at the head of Cherry street, and suitable buildings erected thereon at a cost of $2,182.

“In the year 1852, this building was found to be too small, and the property and buildings situated at the corner of John and Guise streets were purchased at a cost of $5,000; but to make the buildings suitable for hospital purposes, extensive repairs were ordered, amounting to $5,248, which made a total cost of $10,248 for buildings and grounds.

“The actual number of beds for patients amounted at this time to thirty-five. The domestic management was placed in the hands of a superintendent and a matron. The city physician visited the hospital once daily to prescribe for the patients and to compound the medicines.

“In 1861, the City Council decided to appoint a resident physician, and to place the medical management under the control of a medical board, to consist of visiting and consulting physicians. The financial management was then, as now, under the control of the Hospital Committee, chosen annually by the City Council.

“In 1872, additional repairs were made which gave a capacity of sixty beds. This building also being found too defective for hospital purposes, land was purchased in the fall of 1879 for the purpose of erecting a new hospital after the most approved and modern plans. In the fall of 1880, the contracts were let, and on the 25^th of October 1882, the building was opened for patients.

“The total cost of ground, building and furnishing amounted to $53,360.76. The present capacity of the new building is 150 beds, not including private wards.

“Looking back at the financial history of the hospital, it is found how little the directors are indebted to the bounty of private individuals. No Bequests, annuities or donations of money to any considerable amount have ever been made to the institution. The whole responsibility, therefore, of meeting and defraying the annual expenses, with the exception of the Government grant, devolves upon the City Council.

“When it is stated that no donations or bequests have been made to the hospital, the Times does not mean to say that no one has taken an interest in hospital affairs, for the ladies of the city have always shown a great interest in the institution. These ladies have, from time to time, donated numerous and useful articles, among which the beautiful screens which have been sent by different ladies are worthy of special notice.

“The ladies of the Duffield Flower Mission have been exceedingly kind in their attentions, and since the month of June have visited the hospital regularly every Wednesday afternoon, and distributed fruit and flowers among the patients. On the 30^th of August, these ladies gave a garden party on the hospital grounds, and by their energetic efforts made it a great success. The proceeds were $137 and are to be devoted to the purchase of feather pillows, of which thirty have already been procured, and to procuring other comforts for the patients. This is the first and only public entertainment that has ever been given for the benefit of the hospital.”¹

 ¹  “The City Hospital : A Brief Sketch of the Excellent Institution : The Work of the Ladies”

Hamilton Spectator.   October  24, 1883.

1847 Hamilton Hospital

1882 Hamilton Hospital

1883-10-16yy

“Last night was the most memorable one in the history of the Hamilton Corps of the Salvation Army. The first anniversary of the arrival of the Army in Hamilton was celebrated in grand style.”

Hamilton Times.   October 16, 1883.

It had been a year of many Salvation Army meetings in Hamilton, but the one held on October 16, 1883 in the Drill Hall on James Street North was one of the most colorful and energetic of them all. As the Hamilton Times put it, “every ‘death and glory boy’ and ‘hallelujah lass’ in the city felt proud last night to wear the uniform or the badge that distinguished them as Salvationists.”¹

¹ “Salvation Celebration : The Hamilton Corps of the Salvation Army Have a Big Blow Out : Celebrating Their  First Anniversary”

Hamilton Times.   October 16, 1883.

Before the actual meeting began, the Salvation Army had an event between 5 and 8 o’clock in which tables filled with food and refreshments were set out, free for all who choose to attend. Over 800 people took advantage of the invitation, while many who wished to attend could not be accommodated.

Shortly after 8 p.m., the actual celebration began:

“A ring platform was constructed on the south side of the shed for the accommodation of the members of the Army. It was crowded; over two hundred soldiers and lasses having seats on it.

“Most of the hallelujah lasses were attired in their picturesque costume – dark dresses trimmed with red braid, blood-red tight-fitting jackets, and bonnets tied tightly under their chins.

“Many of them had tambourines which they jingled and pounded energetically in time to the music of the many songs that were sung, and those that could not muster tambourines at least had handkerchiefs to wave.

“The male soldiers were quite as enthusiastic as the lasses, and gave vent to their enthusiasm in the usual ejaculations expressive of strong religious emotion.¹

There were many characters in the Salvation Army at the anniversary. The most notable was an officer who expressed his excitement in a most energetic way:

“One soldier – an officer, indeed : ‘Happy Bill’ of London – displayed his feelings by dancing and writhing his body in surprising contortions, waving his red pocket-handkerchief, clapping his hands and shouting. He was a conspicuous figure in the celebration and was always bobbing up serenely when least expected.

“Happy Bill had shouted and sung himself hoarse, and his voice could not be heard many yards away; but he made up for his want of voice by eloquent, if violent, gesticulation. He was attired in a striped shirt and blue trousers – unlike the rest of the soldiers, who were mostly dressed in dark blue.”¹

          Besides the eminently noticeable Captain Cooper, known as ‘Happy Bill,’ there were other Salvation Army soldiers in attendance with colorful nicknames :

Captain Freer, of Lindsay was ‘the Sledge Hammer’; Captain Ludgate of the Hamilton Corps was ‘Happy Jack’; and Lieutenant Nellie Keizer, of Toronto was ‘Shouting Nellie,’

          Music and reacting to the music was a major component of the celebration:

“When all the soldiers and lasses sang their rousing choruses, the effect was very fine, each throat being used liberally, ‘for all it was worth,’ all the members of the chorus keeping time by the waving of hands and handkerchiefs, the pounding of tambourines and the swaying of their arms and bodies.

“Viewed from the outskirts of the crowd, the scene was picturesque in the extreme and quite unique.”¹

The key speaker at the centennial celebration was Major Moore, described as “a squarely built, English-looking man, with an iron grey beard and a pleasant, benignant manner.”¹

Major Moore focused on the joy and musicality that the members of the Salvation Army brought to the cities, including Hamilton, that they had entered:

“He advised his hearers to read the last two Psalms; in them, King David told what kind of religion was the best. Old King David evidently thought it was right to praise God with the timbrel (or tambourine) and dances with stringed instruments and every other kind of music., and so did the Salvation Army. They believed in having a good time.

“ ‘This jolly religion,’ said the Major, ‘is no new thing. Everyone that has the peace of God in his heart will feel jolly. No matter what men may say of us, if we are in the right, God will stand by us. Why, when I left England less than ten years ago, there were only seven musicians who belonged to the Army, now there are five thousand. (Shouts and cries of Hallelujah!).

“ ‘All these musicians are playing for the glory of God. There are in Great Britain tonight, five hundred army corps, embracing considerably over a million men and women enrolled in the Salvation Army. This is in Great Britain alone.

“ ‘But the Army is too good a thing to be kept in Great Britain. It has invaded nearly every civilized country in the world, and even in India, the idols of the heathen are coming down before the conquering tread.

“ ‘Oh, the religion of the army is good,’ said the gallant Major, enthusiastically, - ‘and it gets gooder and gooder.’ ” ¹

It was estimated that there were between three and four thousand people in the Drill Shed for the big meeting, “most of whom watched and listened to the proceedings with evident interest.

“There were some, however, who went there for the sole purpose of creating a disturbance, and they succeeded in annoying, by their rowdyism and mischief making, the respectable people on the outskirts of the crowd.”¹

1883-11-05yy

During a Saturday night in November, a number of Hamilton’s sporting fraternity gathered at a downtown hotel. One of their number had a sure fire get rich scheme which he wanted to promote.

A reporter from the Spectator was present and he shared the following account of what transpired:

“There is an individual in this city whose brain teems with ideas for the instant accumulation of am amount of money that would place him in the list of the millionaires of this continent. Up to date, his schemes have not proved successful, and yet he persists in believing that the ripe cherry does not hang too high for his reach. On Saturday night he arranged a meeting with a number of the sporting men in this city in one of the hotels, and breached a scheme, which was hailed with apparently unqualified delight by those who were to be enriched at the issue. A room was secured and a chair taken by the illustrious individual. Then the diabolical scheme was unfolded, and here it is : A company was to be formed and $3,000 capital raised at once. The originator of the dark deed was to pocket this sum of money, buy a ticket to Texas, and arrived there, he was to purchase 110 mustangs and bring them to Hamilton. Here they were to be thrown on the market, in the hopes that a confiding public would eagerly snatch the chance to buy a horse that could be ridden like the old-time velocipeds – with one’s feet paddling along the ground. The little animals were to be transported in two cars – and yes, they say sardine packers are cruel. The best part of the scheme was presented at the last – the agent was to have all his expenses paid, and secure one-seventh of the profits, and this without subscribing a cent to the enterprise.

“At this point in the proceedings, a man entered the room, drew a wheel from under his arm, threw a roll of bills on the table, and called play. The chairman could not find an ear in the assembly, and waxed impatient. No one would play, but wanted to see money change hands. The interruption was removed, and the schemer again became loquacious. A member of the assembly excited interest in the scheme by proposing to send an agent to Texas, empowered to lasso the first animal approaching in appearance to the mustang, and take the trail to Canada, meanwhile leading the captive. On the road, sympathizing mustangs would join their enslaved brother, and accompany him to the foreign land. By this means, probably, a thousand mustangs would be brought to Hamilton, and at a cost that a few newsboys could cover.

“Another member then drew a poker deck from his pocket, and made ready to deal. The attention of everyone in the room was drawn to the propsed game.

“Then a man rushed into the room and yelled that the Salvation Army and the police were fighting a big battle on the Market square, and the wounded were being carted off by the dozens. The room held but one occupant the next moment, and that lonely person was he who wanted to buy mustangs, and take one-seventh of the profits. The scheme busted. “¹

¹“Saturday Night Fun : A Meeting of a Number of Sports : With Designs on the Freedom of the Festive Mustang, Which Roams the Plains of Texas, and What Came of It’

Hamilton Spectator.    November 5, 1883