Tuesday, 11 September 2012

1904-07-09



Queer things happen in this old world of ours. Away back in the fifties, there lived in a country town within forty miles of Hamilton, a young Englishman who became acquainted with a girl of English parentage, and in due course of time they were convinced that if ever a love match was made in heaven, surely it was their. They married, and to better their condition in life, as the outlook in those days in the Canadian village was not very bright, they went west and settled in Illinois. Three or four children were born to them, and they were as happy as a family could be. The man worked at whatever presented, but, in an evil hour, he decided to go into the saloon business, where money could be made more easily than by the sweat of his brow. It was humiliating to his good wife, who was well-educated and a Christian, and she felt that it was a dragging down of herself and the children from a proper position in life. As he was one of his own best customers at the bar, the happy home was turned into confusion. The war broke out in 1861, and the man, having a chance to sell his saloon, availed himself of it, and he enlisted in the first cavalry regiment raised in Illinois under President Lincoln’s call for 75,000 men. Being an educated man, and well qualified for clerical work, he was appointed orderly sergeant of his company. The regiment was in one of the first battles, and had the misfortune to be captured, and nearly the entire regiment became prisoners of war. In the early days of the war, neither the union nor the confederate governments had any desire to hold prisoners, so the regiment was paroled and sent home under pledge not to again enter the service unless duly exchanged. While awaiting parole, the sergeant became infatuated with a young woman living in the southern town, and after returning to Illinois with his regiment for muster out of service, he visited his family, remaining only a few days, and when he left home, he said he was going to re-enlist under the old captain, who was then raising a regiment for the three years’ service. That was the last his wife or children ever saw or heard of him. No tidings coming back to them, and not knowing what regiment he might have enlisted in, the faithful wife had come to the sad conclusion after months of inquiry that her husband had either been killed in battle or had died from wounds or sickness in a hospital. The war came to an end, and the wife mourned for the soldier who did not return. That he was dead, she had no reason to doubt, for even in his worst moods he was never unkind to her or the children. The mother devoted herself to caring for the children, having to work early and late to provide them with food and clothing. The oldest boy, who was not more than eight years of age when his father left, helped his mother with the small wages he could earn, and at night and during spare hours in daytime, he laid the foundation of an education that in after years gave him a prominent position. The time came when this boy, grown to manhood, was able to relieve his mother from having to work for a living, but he also paid the expenses of educating a younger brother and his sisters. Some friends suggested to the widow that she should apply to the government for a pension, but when her claim was investigated, it was thrown out because there was no proof of how or when or where her husband died. In later years, the widow returned to the Canadian town where she had spent her girlhood days and where she had been married. The son, who was in Hamilton temporarily, told the writer the history, which resulted in another attempt to bring the case of the mother before the commissioner of pensions at Washington. At a preliminary hearing, it was deemed prudent to first write the captain of the company, who was then living in Chicago, to find any was that might lead up to the death of the husband, but he had no information beyond the mustering out of the regiment after the disastrous fight in Missouri, when it was gobbled up by the confederate forces under General Price. Pending the arrival of the letter from the captain, notice came from the pension department at Washington, that a man of the name of the husband was then drawing a pension for service rendered in 1861, in the same company and regiment of cavalry, and that man was then living in the city of Toronto. Like a thunder clap from a clear sky came this news to the son who for forty years had mourned for his father who he supposed had died on the field of battle. Here was that father living within fifty miles of where his mother had been making her home for years. What was he to do under the circumstances? His mother had almost reached the end of life’s journey, having completed the allotted years of three score and ten. All these forty years, she had mourned as dead the husband to whom she had plighted her life more than a half century before in the little Canadian town. Would it be wise to dispel the illusion in which she lived? The writer was in Toronto a short time after word came that the husband and father was there, and at the request of the son, he hunted up the man and found him living in comfortable circumstances with a woman he called his wife. When the son was fully satisfied with the perfidy of the father whose memory he had worshipped as having given his life on the field of battle, his reverence was turned to hatred and he registered a vow that he would never come in contact with him nor look upon his face. The aged mother is still living. Whether or not she has been informed that her husband lives within fifty miles of her home with another woman whom he calls his wife, the writer does not know. More than one incident of this kind has come under our personal knowledge during the seven years we have been in Hamilton.

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          The Burning Springs, in Barton township, five miles from Hamilton, were noted for their medical properties about the year 1850. There was not what now be called a large summer hotel on the property, which was for some reason allowed to run down and get badly out of repair.  An enterprising tavern keeper named J. Hayward, thought he saw a speculation in leasing the property and fixing it up for the accommodation of invalids, and he spent quite a bit of money in giving a through renovation. Water with a sulphurous taste and a smell like unto rotten eggs has always been supposed to have efficacious power in the curing of scrofulous or cutaneous tumors, rheumatism and kindred diseases of the blood, our forefathers having drank so eagerly of sulphur springs water as do the invalids of the present day. The other an aged Hibernian gentleman and his life partner were coming up James street, the wife carrying a large tin bucket that would hold a couple of gallons. They were strangers in Hamilton, but away back in their country home they had heard of the curative properties of the sulphur springs near Ancaster, and they came in order to get a bucketful to carry back with them to their home. The old gentleman and lady were pictures of health, and although they may have passed three score years and ten, yet their appearance indicated that the angel of death was not camping very close in their trail. Probably the waters from the Ancaster springs were intended to bring new life and hope to some loved one, and they cheerfully came on the pilgrimage with faith that some relief would come to the afflicted one. That old gentleman’s inquiry brought back to memory the number of noted springs that were within a half dozen miles of this city and that in the long ago were so eagerly patronized by those who thought their sands of life were fast ebbing away. A few weeks ago, in these Musings, we mentioned that Mr. Dalley kept a drug store in this city away back in the forties, that everyday he received from Ancaster a fresh supply of the health-giving and blood-purifying waters for the use of a large number of customers, who bought it by the jugful and drank it instead of well water. Now and then we hear of persons going to sulphur springs in the United States as well as the resorts here in Canada, who could get as effective treatment within an hour’s ride from Hamilton. A few days ago, a young man was sent from this city to a noted sulphur springs in Pennsylvania. He had been an invalid for a year or more from a disease of the stomach, and he became so reduced in strength that two members of an Oddfellows’ lodge in this city had to accompany him, the lodge bearing all the expense, for the poor fellow had spent his last dollar during his year of enforced idleness on account of sickness. Surely the old springs near Hamilton have not lost their medicinal qualities, and they might be found just as efficacious as they were half a century ago.

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          Baldheaded people are usually very sensitive to any reference to the absence of a capillary covering for their brain box; and how it makes one squirm to have a barber run his fingers through the thin locks and sarcastically ask if they don’t want their hair trimmed? A barber in the city of Washington had a baldheaded victim in his chair and thus decanted on a new remedy for the cure of baldness; “Take a dozen white potatoes,” said the barber, “and pare them lengthwise from end to end, instead of crosswise as usual. Boil them in a quart of water, and drain the water off into a bottle and add a teaspoon of salt. Rub this compound into the scalp three times a day, and it will change a thin, moth-eaten head of hair into a thick and vigorous crop,” said the barber, proudly rubbing his own head. “I used potato water three times a week for three months. Look at me now.” Ever since the days of the prophet Elijah, whom the wicked children jeered and shouted, “thou baldhead”, has poor bald-topped humanity been looking for a remedy that would restore the hirsute covering. They sent out bears to eat up the wicked children for making fun of the unfortunate old prophet, and many a baldhead would be glad could he set the bears on the barber who jestfully asks, “Do you want your hair trimmed?” There may be something in the remedy proposed by the Washington barber, and before bedtime this Saturday night, there will be many a pot of potato boiling in Hamilton, and heads soaked with the curative liquid.

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