Five
weeks from next Tuesday, the Hamilton old boys and girls, from east, west,
north and south, will be crowding the streets, by scores and hundreds. Some of
them left thirty, forty, even fifty years ago, and all through their pilgrimage
have their hearts turned back to the days of their youth, when Hamilton was but
little more than a village and the cows and pigs roamed the streets at will,
because no board of aldermen had the courage to pass ordinances against live
stock running at large. People who had neither cows nor pigs had to put up with
the annoyance – the same as they have today to be afflicted with the dog
nuisance – and there was no redress. An alderman that would even think of
voting for a law of that kind would not be safe a minute in the celebrated
Corktown district. Even in this faraway day memory recalls the grunting of the
porkers wallowing in the gutters and the quacking of the geese as they wandered
up and down the streets. Well, the old boys and girls will hear none of that
now, but they will see a modern city, with all the up-to-date comforts to make
life one sweet song of contentment. The carnival committee is making great
preparations to welcome the coming guests and give them a good time. There will
be four days of jollifying, in which will be fitted some part of the programme
for every hour of the twenty-four. The first day will be devoted to one of the
finest floral displays ever seen in Canada. The ladies of the city are looking
after this part, and everyone who has a carriage, or even a wheelbarrow, will
join in the procession. Then the Veteran Firemen’s association will be in the
parade, dressed in the old-time shirts with an old piano hand-engine that did
service in this city more than half a century ago. There will be men in that
organization who joined the old volunteer fire fighters in Hamilton before the
Great Western railway was built and when people travelled in Canada by
steamboat or stage coach. There are not many of them left to tell the story,
but they will do their part in welcoming back to the old home the boys and
girls who have made homes elsewhere. What memories cling about the home of
one’s youth. “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”
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But we must not forget the programme. The
floral parade and the old fire fighters will only be a part of the attraction,
for other interests and organizations will help make the first day memorable as
the opening of the carnival. The whole day will be filled up, and when night
comes, “the rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting i8n air,” and the grand
illumination of sailing craft on the bay and of the homes down the beach, and
the bonfires at every point around the bay, it will be a picture that will live
in memory long after the carnival has passed. This will be the introduction and
the next three days will be as full of interest. There will be the street
parade of Hamilton’s manufacturing industries, which alone will be a feature
worth coming a thousand miles to see, and the great military parade, in which
several thousand well-drilled young soldiers will take part. Well, after the
old boys and girls see what Hamilton is in the opening years of the twentieth
century, they will come to the conclusion that “there’s no place like home.”
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When the Great Western was first opened for
passenger traffic through this city, the people living in the east end
petitioned the officers of the company to establish a way station at the foot
of Victoria avenue, which then ended at the railway crossing. They spoke of the
great convenience it would be to the folks living down there, and the great
advantage in the distant future when Hamilton would get a move on itself and
take in the entire acreage of Barton township into the corporate limits. The
railway officials could not see the necessity of a station there, and it was
never established. Now that the east end has become the important part of
Hamilton, and that more people are living within the corporate limits east of
Victoria avenue than there were in the entire city fifty years ago, would it
not be a good idea to again petition for a station? What sense is there in
compelling people to go a mile or two farther, especially on excursion trains,
when a stop for a couple minutes would probably accommodates scores of tired
people returning home. It was an unfortunate thing for Hamilton that the Great
Western located its depot where it did, for it has always been inconvenient;
and travelers passing through the city on cars must always have an unfavorable
opinion of the city, judging from the surroundings at the depot.
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The glory of Hamilton as a lake port has gone
glimmering with the years. Before the Toronto and Hamilton railway was built,
all the freight and passenger traffic was done by steamboat, and it was no
uncommon thing, especially during the summer season, to see ten or a dozen
steamboats loading and unloading at the wharves. Even as late as Nov. 19, 1853,
when insurance on lake vessels had run out for the season, the freight business
was so heavy that the vessel owners and captains took the risk of stormy
weather to reap the harvest. On that day, eight steamboats entered this port,
and four steamboats and one schooner cleared for their destinations. A glance
at the port list, and the names of the vessels and of the captains takes one
back to the days when people were not in a hurry in their journeys. It may
refresh the memory of the old stagers to call up the Arabian, with Capt.
Colcleugh, that coasted down the lake from Hamilton to Ogdensburgh; the Magnet,
Capt. Sutherland; the Cataract, Capt. Ertes; the City of Hamilton, Capt.
Gordon; the Experiment, Capt. Campbell; the Western Miller, Capt. Macgrave; the
Marion, Capt. Polly; and the Boston, Capt. Sinclair. The vessels and their
captains have long since gone out of commission. The merchants were in no hurry
to get their goods in those days, for everything came by boat. Now business is
done by telephone, telegraph and express, and if the train is not on time,
things are said that at times make the atmosphere lurid. The last steamboat
that season was the Magnet, with three locomotives for the Great Western.
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During the days of slavery in the United
States, when there was no a foot of soil in that country where an escaping
slave could breathe the air of freedom, that so much was said about in Fourth
of July orations, the underground railway did large business, the terminal
stations being the border towns in Canada. Here is a specimen of the bill of
lading that accompanied the human freight, and one can only wonder that less
than 50 years ago, such a system of slavery would exist on American soil.
U.
G. R. R. Office …. 1853
Bill of Lading
Freight ………………….. 145 lbs.
Valued at ………………… $1,000
Consigned
to the care of a kind Providence, for Canada.
Once the poor, hunted slave set foot on
Canadian soil, his shackles dropped and he was a man. Chatham was the black
man’s paradise, and away from there, he did not feel safe.
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The first regular passenger trains between
Hamilton and Niagara Falls began running on the morning of the 10th
of November, 1853. There were only two
trains a day each way, and it took two hours and forty-five minutes to make the
trip. The passengers crossed the Suspension bridge in omnibuses, as it was not
until some months later that the bridge was ready for train service. Time has
worked wonders, and now one can go from Hamilton to the Falls in 50 minutes by
either the Grand Trunk or the T. H. & B. roads, and have a choice of not
less than fifteen or eighteen trains a day. There were no Sunday trains in the
long ago.
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Thursday, Dec. 15, 1853, the Great Western
railway from Hamilton to London, a distance of 76 miles, was formally opened
for traffic, and the event was made a day of great rejoicing in London. At
every station between Hamilton and London, large crowds joined ranks, bands and
artillery salutes greeted the excursion train. Everybody and the fire
department in London were out on dress parade, and there were speechmaking and
music and rejoicing. The city council of London had voted to Mr. Adams, the mayor,
200 pounds, for his services representing the city on the board of directors of
the railway company, and this sum Mayor Adams turned over to the reception
committee of the city toward the expenses of the celebration. There are not
many of that kind of mayor living now. In the evening, there were a banquet and
speeches. Mayor Kerr represented Hamilton at the banquet, and proudly claimed that
his city was the first municipality to subscribe for the stock of the Great Western.
Robert Smiley, the editor of the Spectator, attended the celebration and wrote
an extended notice. He was very complimentary to the progressive and liberal
spirit of the London people, and took occasion to tell some wholesome truths
about his own city. Speaking of London, he said :
“No city or town in Canada has, in our
opinion, advanced so rapidly, and the result is almost entirely to be ascribed
to the enterprise and spirit of the prominent inhabitants. In Hamilton, the
principal land-holders are drones. Their property is increased in value by the
exertions of the business portion of their community, and their poorer neighbors,
and it is a melancholy, but well-known, fact that when asked for a subscription
for a philanthropic or patriotic purpose, they will button up their pockets,
and not infrequently insult those who subscribe themselves and fruitlessly
endeavor to obtain something from those who can far better afford it. The
spirit in London is very different, and the result is that the town advances
with rapid strides.”
Mr. Smiley evidently had the root of
bitterness in his heart that day, and yet the picture he drew would fairly
represent the stingy spirit that now prevails to some extent in Hamilton.
Wealth has flowed into the coffers of hundreds in Hamilton from 1853 down to
the present, and not a dollar has gone into any permanent public benefaction,
except in less than half a dozen cases. The names of the generous ones could be
engraved in large letters on the surface of a twenty-five cent piece and then
there would be space to spare.
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The Board of Education of this city is now
preparing a volume to represent the fiftieth anniversary of the opening of the Central
school. At the first public examination
of the pupils, held before the closing for the Christmas holidays in 1853,
there was a large attendance of prominent citizens. Mr. Robertson, of the
Normal School, Toronto, was present and made a congratulatory address on the
proficiency of the scholars, and the effective work of the teachers. At the
close of the exercises, on behalf of the pupils, a valuable lot of books and an
address were presented to J. H. Sangster, the popular headmaster of the school,
the address being signed by Donald Sutherland, Henry Walker, Richard Donnelly,
Fred Roper, Antony Cochrane, William Hamilton and George Robb. Mr. Sangster’s
reply was characteristic of the man filled with kindly expressions to the scholars
over whom he had presided for only a few months. A few sentences might not be
out of place. “Boys, remember that from among you the next generation must
obtain its statesmen, its lawyers, its divines. Bear in mind that after a few
more fleeting years have sped away, you must actively engage in the battle of
life; and seek now, while you have time and opportunity to enrich yourselves
with every kind of useful knowledge. Girls, you also have a high destiny to fulfill
and much of your future happiness or misery depends on the principles you now
embrace. Boys and girls, let the approach of this season remind us of the rapid
advent of the winter of life, and induce us to venerate and love those whose
heads are heavy and bowed with age.” Hundreds of the old boys and girls who
went out from the Central school during the past half century can attribute, in
a measure, their success in the battle of life to their faithful teachers, from
Dr. Sangster down to the present efficient head of our schools. On the old
school rosters will be found the names of men who have made themselves
reputations in the various callings in life. The industrious and those who have
lived prudently and free from the vices of the world have prospered; the
reckless and careless have gone out with the tide.
