Monday, 23 July 2012

1903-07-25


As far back as fifty years ago, when Hamilton had only arrived at the dignified title of a city five or six years, it began to put on metropolitan airs and was on the lookout for a favorable location in which to spend the summer months away from the cares and frivolities incident to city life. No one then thought of the sandy strip that divided the bay from the lake as the future summer resort as only a few families of fishermen had squatted on the Beach. Capt. Thompson was the lighthouse keeper, and he and his family were compelled to live there. Old John Dynes and a Mrs. Badrey kept taverns for the convenience of amateur hunters and fishermen who wandered that far from home in search of game. The Charbonneaus and the Coreys made their living by feeding Hamilton with lake trout and salmon, and in filling up the bushels of the amateur fishermen who were as unfortunate as not to catch anything. During the season, wild duck were plenty along the Beach; and even in those long ago days, John Dynes had a reputation for being the best cook of duck and fish in the world, and the family still keeps up the record. Many of the old boys who went out from Hamilton in the past fifty years – and we hope many of them will come back to the carnival next month – will have pleasant memories of the boat rides and the fishing and the duck shooting in the bay and down to the Beach. Long John Martin moved down there at a later date, and divided the honors with John Dynes in furnishing liquid and substantial refreshments.

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          Things have changed at the Beach, and it has now become the summer home of scores of families who want to get away from the daily dress parade of city life and enjoy themselves without reference to what Mrs. Grundy may say. Handsome residences line the Beach from one end to the other, and a fashionable summer hotel is filled with guests from far and near. It is a gay place when the busy men leave their shops and counting rooms and factories in town and join their wives and children in the pleasant cottages down by the sad sea waves, where the mosquito works overtime. By and by, when the Radial railway company will divide its large receipts with the patrons of the road, who are now making millionaires of the stockholders, by hiring a band for summer night concerts, the thousands of Hamiltonians who cannot afford to own a cottage down by the sea, will blow in their old quarters and take a ride on the Radial, enjoy the lake and listen to the music, then will the Beach become what nature intended it to be – a summer resort for all the inhabitants of this blessed city. With the mountain, the bay and the Beach, what more does man or woman require to complete his or her happiness? It is the next thing to heaven, and probably the only heaven some of us may enjoy.

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          If it is given to those who have passed from this world to a more beatific condition – and the spiritualists hold out that promise – to mix in the scenes of the present, what a surprise it will be to old John Dynes and Long John Martin and Mrs. Baldrey, and to the Charbonneaus and the Coreys, and to the early fishermen who cast their nets seaward from the east shore of the Beach, to see the transformation that has taken place. Their wildest dreams could never imagine such handsome cottages, and the whirling across the sandy stretch of the steam and trolley cars; but, greater than all the modern and up-to-date concrete sidewalks from one end of the Beach to the other, and the long line of incandescent electric lamps to brighten up by night the dark and gloom that once ruled over the trackless waste. The world moves, and Hamilton’s unrivalled summer resort is in the advance of the procession. Yet all this availeth nothing as long as the pesky mosquito has a bill to present. Science and coal oil will come to the rescue. Sprinkling carts filled with crude coal oil will yet make a paradise of the Beach, when the roadways are sprinkled once or twice a month with coal oil, and the swamps along the shore with the same stuff. Then will the millennium come and the mosquito go.

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          Then another great need of the Beach is a summer hotel, where once stood the Ocean House and a first-class restaurant, where transient visitors could get a decent lunch without having to pawn their watches and jewelry. The large majority is not educated up to dollar dinners with wine on the side, but would rather enjoy two half-dollar lunches and wash them down with the health-giving waters of Lake Ontario. Band concerts, ice cream parlors, tasty lunches, the banishment of the mosquito, and cheaper trolley rates would make the Beach what nature intended it should be should be – the Garden of the Gods.

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          Half a century ago, John Wilson owned a fine form some ten miles east of Hamilton, along the lake shore. He conceived the idea of transforming his productive acres into a summer resort, and give his proposed village the name of Ontario. Streets were laid out straight and wide, and it was intended to plant trees. One of the inducements to intending purchasers of lots was the splendid view from the shore of Wellington Square, Bronte and Oakville, the distant spires of Toronto and the Burlington Bay canal, and as an enthusiastic writer said, “We know few more lovely scenes on a summer morning then we have enjoyed from Ontario.” Best and Green were the auctioneers, and the glowing description they gave of the location in the city papers would almost tempt one to leave Hamilton and buy a home for winter and summer, in the dream village of Ontario. Did you ever hear Tom Burrows describe, in his florid Milesian style, a piece of property he was trying to dispose of under the hammer? No? Then you have missed one-half the pleasure that is allotted to mortal man and woman as they journey though this vale of tears. Well, Tom can give you a song and dance that will make you bid whether you want to or not, but he is only a humble raconteur when compared with old man Best; and in telling this we are not deprecating Tom’s talents in the least, for next to Best the writer considers Tom Burrows the greatest auctioneer in Canada. Well, to get back to that advertisement of suburban lots in Ontario. The location was free from the heat and dust of summer. Not a bad beginning. Then there was no marsh, and a case of ague had not been known for fifty years. That was a solar plexus at the Dundas frog pond. The lake water was pure and the location afforded all the advantages of the sea-side for its cooling breezes and pleasant drives. But here was the greatest inducement of all – the owner would be free from the enormous taxation of the city, while its respectability would always afford agreeable society. The avenues and the streets were to be laid out, till the charming village of Ontario would vie in beauty with Cheltenham and other far-famed watering places in England. The historian does not tell the result of the sale, but from the fact that the village of Ontario has no place on the map, we must conclude that John Wilson’s dream was never materialized and that the avenues and villas did not materialize where the pumpkin vine and the cornstalks intertwined in such profusion. The picture was not changed. It is probable that Winona blossomed where Ontario was planted years ago.

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          At midnight on the 13th of September, 1854, a fire broke out in the engine house of McQuesten and Co’s foundry, on the corner of James and Merrick streets. In those days the fire department had to depend upon private wells and cisterns for water, there being only a few public cisterns in the streets, and as a consequence the fire gained rapid headway. In our Musings we have before referred to this matter, but since the organization of the Veteran Fireman’s association, the history of that fire has been discussed, each raconteur giving his recollection of it. In the veteran association, there are less than half a dozen who belonged to the department in 1854, and no two of them tell the same story. In order to get the straight of it, we have hunted up some old records and are thus able to give the facts. After the fire had been burning for some time, the alley wall of the main building fell in while a number of the members were hunting up the leather buckets and running a line of hose from James street through the alleyway to the rear of the building. The falling wall caught four of the boys, one of them being buried in the ruins, three severely hurt, one of whom died the next day. The killed were Lieut. William Henry Woods of No. 4 company, and Lawrence Powers of No. 3. William Omand of No. 3 and Second Lieut. Loftus Major of No. 4, were severely injured and barely escaped with their lives. One stranger was reported buried in the ruins. William Omand still lives to tell the story of the McQuesten fire. He is now superintendent of the government bridge and pier at the Beach, and is a member of the Veteran association.

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          An ingenious Englishman, fifty years ago, invented a shaving machine which was considered a success, but from some cause, it never came into general use. The victim was seated in an old-fashioned arm-chair. Four razors were fixed longitudinally on cylinders, at an angle of 60 degrees, with fine camel-hair brushes between each cylinder. The person was lathered and shaved at the same time, the lather being forced out from the hollow cylinders. The machinery was operated by the weight of the person being shaved, the seat gradually giving away under he reached the ground when the shaving was completed. As soon as the person got out of the chair, the seat raised again to its proper position, when it was ready for the next customer.

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          It was a greater crime to steal an umbrella fifty years ago than it was to steal money. At the November term of assizes in this city, a woman was found guilty of purloining an umbrella, and even though her daughter swore that the mother had bought it, the learned judge would not be convinced. The woman was sent to prison for six months with hard labor, and the daughter was taken into custody on the charge of perjury in trying to swear her mother out of the difficulty. Evidently, the judge’s heart was touched by the daughter’s loyalty, for the case against her was dropped. At the same time, there was more than a dozen convicted of stealing money and goods worth far more than the value of the umbrella, and they were let off with jail sentences of from ten days to three months. Somebody must have stolen the judge’s umbrella on a rainy day, and he had his revenge on that woman.

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