For
the next three or four weeks Hamilton will be a beautiful picture to catch the
eye of the lover of nature. The trees are budding, and the wealth of foliage
and green lawns add to the beauty of the scenery. Painters are hard at work
brightening up residences and business houses with fresh color, and the
householders are doing their part in cleaning alleys and gathering up the
rubbish that collect in the streets and back yards. These vernal days
“belonging to youth, the spring of life,” makes the old young again and fill
all hearts with gladness. How easily one jogs through life when spring flowers
fill the air with perfume, the song birds make sweet music, and the weekly
income is a guarantee that the comforts of home will be provided. There is
another side to the picture, when sickness or misfortune hides the sunshine
from the heart, and the outlook is anything but cheering. But we will not dwell
upon that phase of life; rather look at the brighter.
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Half a century ago Hamilton was a
theme that inspired the pens of old-time dreamers. The Great Western had been
completed from the Falls to Detroit, but we had no railway between here and
Toronto, traffic and passengers from this city to Montreal and Quebec and the
intermediate points depending on the daily line of steamboats for
transportation. It was in the days before the waterworks, and when the gas
lamps in the streets were turned down at the hour of midnight, the belated
night owl having to grope his way home when the moon was off duty. Read what a
fancy pen was drawn then by a writer : “Hamilton, from its geographical
position, its peculiar natural advantages, and through the indomitable energy
and enterprise of its citizens, has, within the past few years, made rapid
advances toward becoming the chief commercial city in Canada.” The town had
less than 12,000 population, and its principal business was supplying the
retail market in the country west and south. Hear the dreamer again: “But a few
short years have passed away since the site on which now stands the crowded
city, with its stately edifices and its elegant residences, its thronged
streets, and its marts and factories teeming with life and business activity, was
a dense forest, the hunting ground of the Indian, and the home of wild animals
and beasts of prey.” What a vivid imagination it was that drew that picture,
for there had not been anything wilder than a squirrel in this vicinity for at
least a quarter of a century before that description was written. “It was not
many years ago that the waters of our beautiful harbor, which now bear upon
their bosom magnificent steamships and vessels of every grade, bringing to our
port the treasures of other lands, and conveying to eastern markets the
products of the west, were calm and unruffled, save when the red man launched
his bark upon the blue expanse, or when lashed to fury by the angry tempest.”
Now there is a bit of rhapsody that should be perpetuated in our school books
that the youth of coming generations may know what the early historians thought
of the sparkling waters of the bay, that in after years furnished ice to make
ten cent cream soda for a densely populated city. Fancy the stately edifices on
King street half a century ago, when the now beautiful Gore park a mud hole and the old town pump at
the west end of it. The history before us was equal to the pen of Munchausen.
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But here are some solid facts the
writer has handed down that will interest the old-time Hamiltonian. “Hamilton
was laid out in the year 1813,” – the same year the battle of Stony Creek was
fought, the memory of which has been resurrected from oblivion by the ladies of
the Historical society – “but for many years it progressed slowly, so that we
find, in the year 1837, the inhabitants only numbered 3, 567. From 1837 to
1841, it made no progress, the census of the latter year reporting a population
of 3,446, a decrease in the four years of 121. During the succeeding four
years, the population nearly doubled, and by the census of 1850, we find that
the number of inhabitants had increased to 10,248. From that period, the city
progressed with almost unexampled rapidity. The commencement of the Great
Western railway gave an impetus to all kinds of business. New and substantial
buildings took the place of those no longer sufficient for the increased amount
of business, and merchants and mechanics, who had accumulated ample fortunes,
employed their surplus means in improving their property. New streets were
opened and handsome edifices sprang up as if by magic in all parts of the city.
The population, which had reached 10,000 in 1850, had considerably more than
doubled,” the writer putting the figures at 25,000; and he held out the hope
that by 1860 the number of inhabitants would reach 40,000.
Hamiltonians were modest half a
century ago in their desires, and a two ot three story stone or brick business
house was a palace in the eyes of the old stagers. If those old boys could come
back from the misty past and see the handsome blocks owned by the Thomas C.
Watkins company, the T. H. Ptratt company, Oak Hall, the bank of Hamilton, the
G. W. Robinson company, the Spectator company and many others that might be
named, they could talk of palatial buildings. Those referred to stand out in
remarkable contrast from those by which they are surrounded. But times are
different now to what they were in the fifties, and business men can afford to
build finer blocks. Hamilton has become a great manufacturing city, with its
55,000 inhabitants, mainly dependent on brains and muscle, making good wages
and having plenty of money to spend on the comforts and even luxuries of life,
there is encouragement to merchants to pull down their old stores and build
larger and handsomer ones to accommodate the increased traffic.
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The visit of Lord Minto to Hamilton
reminds the writer of a former Governor-General of Canada. In 1846 Lord Elgin
was appointed Governor-General and for some cause the people did not take
kindly to him. Politics in Canada were in a chaotic condition, and an angel
from heaven would have stood a poor chance in some towns unless he suited the
local political element. The writer does not remember what political party Lord
Elgin leaned to, nor does it matter in connection with this story. In 1847 or
1848, Lord Elgin made a tour of Canada, in order that he might learn the
conditions and prospects of the country. The rebellion losses and clergy
reserve question created sore spots in those days, and there was a deal of
bitterness. Lord Elgin assumed the duties of Governor-General with a
determination that he would be a just ruler, and with the hope that by firmness
in the discharge of duty the discordant elements might be soothed and a better
feeling exist. The writer then lived in London, and remembers the preparations
made by those in loyal sympathy with the Governor-General to give him a royal
welcome. London was a small town then, but it was surrounded by a well-settled country,
and the farmers came by hundreds to see the representative of royalty. That was
in the days before railways, and the royal party made the trip in private
carriages, and the exact hour of arrival was uncertain. Long before the
expected time the crowd had gathered out by the turnpike gate on the plank
road, and there seemed to be an uneasy feeling that did not portend harmony in
the reception. Finally the Governor’s party arrived and the detail of regulars
received him with military honors and escorted him into town. After the formalities
of reception by the mayor and council, the party adjourned to the house of
Postmaster Goodhue for luncheon. In the afternoon the Governor and Mr. Goodhue
went out for a drive around town, and then pandemonium broke loose. The taverns
had been doing a prosperous business, and as a result all respect for the royal
representative was drowned in whiskey, and the maudlin crowd began hooting and
yelling at the Governor and using all kinds of epithets. To this time the
Governor’s trip through Western Canada was an ovation, for he had been treated
with the courteous consideration due his office, but this sudden and unexpected
turn of affairs completely took him by surprise, and orders were given to the
coachman to drive to Mr. Goodhue’s house at once. The crowd followed and a riot
was imminent, the better element of the town protesting against the cowardly
acts of the mob. In the hope of calming the exited people, Lord Elgin presented
himself on the front porch of Mr. Goodhue’s house and tried to make a speech,
but they would have none of it, and they yelled and hooted all the more. Some
level-headed man in the Governor’s party saw a Highland piper on the outskirts
of the crowd, and the thought came to him a diversion might be made by getting
the piper on the porch alongside of the Governor. He acted promptly, and the
piper was taken in at the back door, ushered through to the front, and to the
astonishment of the Governor as well as the crowd, the skirling of the bagpipes
was heard. In less than five minutes, the anger and hooting of the mob was
turned to cheers, and then all wanted to shake hands with the Governor. Lord
Elgin was a diplomat, and readily accommodated himself to the changed
conditions. He made a short speech, and the crowd separated. The next morning
when the vice-regal party was leaving London, the people cheered and thus
redeemed the town from the disgrace of the day before. That was not the first
time that the wild notes of the bagpipes had turned defeat into triumphant
victory.
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Lord Elgin’s term of office in Canada
was a stormy one, and no doubt he was rejoiced when the hour for his departure
came. On the 25th of April, 1849, terrible riots occurred in
Montreal, terminating in the burning of the Parliament house. The parliament
had passed the rebellion losses bill, which was the cause of the disturbance.
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In the summer of 1856, there came to
Hamilton from Michigan a good-looking shoemaker by trade. He was of pleasant
address and good habits, and soon became a general favourite among the young
people. The Good Templars was a strong organization in those days, and its
membership comprised both sexes. Henry was introduced and became a member of
the lodge. He also joined No. 2 fire company, and it was not long before he was
well-acquainted with the young people in town. Henry was of dark complexion,
dreamy eyes and a good dresser, and it was not to be wondered at that he became
a favourite with the girls. The truth of the matter is that he cut quite a
swath, and he did it in a modest way, so that he generally carried off the
prize, and the other poor fellows had to take what he left. Henry was so
popular that the boys envied him just a little bit, but they did not let the
green-eyed monster of jealousy weaken their friendship for him. When he was dressed
in a red shirt and a fireman’s helmet, he was an ideal firefighter, and the
girls had only eyes for him when No. 2 company was out on parade. But he met
his fate in the person of a sensible girl who was assistant forewoman in a
leading manufactory of the city. She had been looked upon as one of the prizes
that some lucky fellow would draw in the matrimonial lottery, and when Henry
became her recognized “steady” he received the hearty congratulations of his
friends. Time rolled on till 1857, when the happy pair were united in marriage.
Life’s dream was soon over for the bride, for one day Henry announced that he
would go over to New York and get a job where he could make better wages, and
in time he was able to start a shop of his own. That was the last his wife saw
or heard of him for months. Through some channel word came back that he was
about to be married to a handsome and wealthy young lady, the daughter of one
of the leading business men of the town. None of his friends, least of all his
wife, gave credence to the story, and it was not till it was confirmed by
further evidence that any steps were taken to head off Henry in his gay career.
A friend of the family was sent to the New York town, and fortunately arrived
on the day set for the marriage of Henry to the merchant’s daughter, and when
he told his story to the father, in the presence of Henry, the outraged father
would have put Henry out of the matrimonial business for all time to come had
it not been for interference of the friend and others. As it was Henry looked
as though he had passed through a threshing machine by the time the father was
taken off him. Henry was arrested, but as no crime could be laid to his charge,
he was set free, and he quickly fled to parts unknown. Inquiry was made in the
Michigan town whence he came to Hamilton, and another wife was living there. By
the time Henry’s history had been hunted up, it was found out that he had three
wives and two or three children to his credit, and all were living. He never
went through the formality of being divorced. His Hamilton wife applied for
legal separation, which was easily secured. She never married again. Some of
the old boys and girls who belonged to the Good Templars will remember the
story.
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