Sunday, 22 July 2012

1903-07-18


Captain Armstrong, who was police magistrate in this city half a century ago, was an officer in the British navy during the War of 1812, and took part in the storming of Fort Erie and the taking of Chippewa, where he landed the crew of his vessel to assist the soldiers in their fight with their American cousins. At Fort Erie, the gallant captain led the forlorn hope for which he received the thanks of the governor and a commission as a lieutenant in the royal navy. In Hamilton and its vicinity, there was a large number of veterans of the War of 1812, and the old fellows would travel a good many miles in order to have Capt. Armstrong certify to their pension vouchers. The veteran sailor always took a day off to swap yarns with his old comrades, and strict orders were given the police not to interfere with the veterans should they drink once too often to the health of Victoria the Good. The old boys have long since been mustered out.

                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------

          In the month of January, 1854, a morning newspaper in this city advertised for four first class compositors, and none other need apply, to whom the fabulous sum of $8 a week would be paid. The poor fellows were expected to work from twelve to fourteen hours a day. There was less than half a column of telegraphic news set each night, the copy being mainly clipped from exchanges and the foreign papers. In the old paper before us, there is a column report of the proceedings of the City council, in which Brown and McDonald offered the city a large quantity of broken stone at a nominal price, as it was only rubbish and had to be moved from their quarries on the mountain. The poor old mountain was even then being deprived of its rugged beauty, for it not only furnished the stone for building purposes, but also for the lime kilns, of which there were a number along the brow. However, there was a thick growth of timber on the mountain side, which hid from view the work of the iconoclasts.

                   ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

          The greatest event in the city of Hamilton occurred on Jan. 19, 1854 when it celebrated the opening of the railway from Niagara Falls to Detroit. The opening of that road was the event in Canadian history, for it was the longest line of railway built in Canada down to that time. And here, as a matter of history, we will report the statement made once or twice before in the Spectator that the first railway built in Canada – and among the first built in the continent of America – was from La Prairie, opposite Montreal to the United States border, some twelve or fifteen miles distant. The Great Western was either the second or third road built in Canada. No wonder then that Hamilton should feel an interest in it, for was not Sir Allan Macnab the father of the project, and was it not through his unceasing efforts that English and United States capitalists were induced to put capital into the enterprise and push the road to completion. Three years from the time the first spade of earth was turned to begin the work of construction, the company had completed 228 miles of first-class road from the Falls to Detroit at a total cost of $10, 821,056. Niagara Falls celebrated the opening from the river to Hamilton, and London had its jubilee when the first passenger train reached that city, and it remained for Hamilton and Detroit to put on the finishing touches and make the grand through opening a memorable occasion. It was a three days’ junket, beginning at Detroit, and ending in Hamilton, and every town, village and hamlet along the entire line added its part. The council of Hamilton appropriated $30,000 to the entertaining of the city’s guests at a banquet and to pay the expenses of the council to Detroit. The fire department asked for $500 to defray the expense of entertaining visiting firemen from the cities along the Great Western line, and for two or three companies from Rochester and Buffalo, but the city fathers had to fight over it, and finally compromised by voting $396. With this amount, the firemen built a triumphal arch at the corner of King and James streets, hired a band, gave a banquet to 350 visiting firemen and finished the day with a torchlight parade. When the bills were audited, each company had to call on its members to make up the deficit. That is about the spirit in which the City Council of other days used to treat the old fire fighters. But the celebration was a success, and Hamilton was proud of the result. There was a grand procession in the forenoon, led by Capt. Booker’s artillery, followed by the police, the St. George, the St. Andrew and the St. Patrick societies. The Highlanders were out in uniform, but as a January day in Canada was a little too cool for bare legs, they had to wear tartan breaks. The greatest disappointment to the Highlanders was that they had to march to common, everyday band music, as Mr. Grant, the only piper in the city was sick in bed. Counting the visiting companies and the home department over 600 firemen were in the line of march, and they were the centre of attraction. In the carnival parade, on Aug. 17 next, less than half a dozen of the old fire-fighters who marched on Jan. 19, 1854 will be in line with the Veteran Firemen. They are grey-headed old boys now, but they are as young in spirit as when they manned the drag ropes half a century ago.

                             ----------------------------------------------------------

          In 1854, the City Council revised the schedule of official salaries, and gave each one a small advance. Prior to that time, some of the officers were paid by fees, but it was decided to put all on a regular salary basis. It may be interesting to compare the salaries then paid with what are paid now. The salary of police magistrate was fixed at $1,000 a year; chamberlain, $900; clerk, $900; high bailiff, $400 and a house, light and fuel; chief constable, $420; street inspector, $500; superintendent of cemeteries, $400; superintendent of hospital, $300; city messenger, $320; clerk of wood market, $400; policeman, $360. Poor salaries were paid, but some official made up the shortage in his pay by re-selling city debentures that had been redeemed but not cancelled. There was quite a breeze in the council when the stealing was made public; but the city had to lose the amount as the officer had never given an official bond. The only consolation one of the aldermen could offer was that the official did not steal more, having had large amounts of redeemed checks and certificates in his hands, which he failed to cancel. Life tenure of office is not always the safest. Occasional changes tend to a closer auditing of accounts.

                             -------------------------------------------------------------

          The firm of Lawson Brothers, the principal clothing manufacturers in Hamilton in the early ‘50’s gave employment to fifty or more tailors. When sewing machines first came into use in the tailoring trade, the Lawsons introduced them in Hamilton. The tailors would have none of them, and after repeated demands made to the firm to throw out the obnoxious machines, which were refused, they went out on strike. In those days, labor saving machinery was looked upon with suspicion by all classes of wage earners, the argument against them being that every machine would take the place of at least half a dozen men, and ruin and starvation be the result. The Lawsons advertised for “fifty tailors who are not afraid of machinery,” and one evening the required number came from the States by the Great western railway. The striking tailors were at the station to meet them, and when it was explained that a strike was on, the Yankee disciples of the goose and needle turned their faces toward the Stars and Stripes and left the Hamiltonians to fight it out with the Lawsons. The introduction of Sewing machines was fought to a finish, leaving the machine triumphant. If the clothing of the present day were all made by hand, it would be impossible to supply the demand. As it is, the manufacturers find it a difficult matter at times to fill orders. The journeymen tailors earn better wages now than they did half a century ago, and men dress better on less money.

                             ----------------------------------------------------------

          The first Printers’ union was organized in Hamilton on the 6th of March, 1854. Thomas Rolston was elected president; John Christian, vice-president; R. L. Gay, treasurer; James Nixon, D. G. Mitchell and W. F. Campbell, vigilance committee. Gay lives in Toronto and Cliff in Hamilton; the others are dead. This organization of printers was to secure a price for work, the rate of wages varying from $4 to $6 a week.

                   ----------------------------------------------------------------------

          The first cotton mill in Upper Canada was built at Newmarket in 1854. From a description given of the mill, it was 150 feet long, 50 feet wide, four stories high, with a capacity of 120 looms and 5,000 spindles. The estimated cost of the mill, machinery, repair shop, and twelve houses for the workingmen was $50,000, and the working capital $35,000. The output of the mill was estimated at 200,000 yards of 36 inch cloth, which was then selling at ten cents a yard. Even in that faraway day, Canada afforded a protection of 12 ½ per cent on cotton manufacturers, which was counted a great profit in those days.

                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------

          In the good old days of ’53, when corporations had not yet learned to dilute their stock, the fare from Niagara Falls to New York City was $7 first class, and if money was more an object than style, one could make the trip in a second class coach for $5. To Boston from Niagara Falls was $11, taking the Fall River line of boats at New York. It took about 32 hours to make the trip from the Falls to new York. There were no palace or sleeping cars, and when night came, if the cars were not crowded, the passenger curled upon the seat and spent long hours wishing for daylight. While passenger rates were low, the company made up the shortage by high rates on freight. For first class 86 cents a hundred was charged, second class 64 cents, and for third class 48 cents.

Saturday, 21 July 2012

1903-07-11


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.”

                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.”

                   --------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

                   ---------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

                   --------------------------------------------------------------

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.

                   --------------------------------------------------

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.

          ---------------------------------------------------------------

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.

                   ------------------------------------------------------------

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.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

1903-07-04


Forty-nine years ago today – July 4, 1854 – B. P. Leland, local agent in Hamilton for Phinney and Company, Booksellers, Buffalo, developed the first pronounced case of cholera that for the next seven weeks carried desolation and sorrow into the homes in this city. Mr. Leland was an American citizen, and was helping to prepare for a picnic in Land’s Bush in the afternoon, to celebrate the fourth of July. The day was very warm, and Mr. Leland drank a deal of ice water, which brought on cramps. He was removed to his home as speedily as possible, but within a few hours, he expired. On the 28th of June, a Norwegian emigrant died at the City Hospital after a few hours’ sickness, and, at the time, it was given out that he died from heat prostration. Several deaths following in quick succession from similar symptoms finally led the doctors to pronounce it cholera. During the first thirteen days in July there were 90 deaths, and in the same month, the daily death rate ranged from 9 to 24 – the 23rd of the month, the highest number in one day, reaching to 24. The epidemic raged for about six weeks, when the number of deaths began to diminish till, finally, on the 21st of August, the last known cholera case was the child of emigrant persons, who died at the emigrant sheds. The total number of deaths from July 1 to August 31, as reported by the board of health, was 531 and on the latter day, the board issued a proclamation congratulating the people that the epidemic was at an end.

                   ---------------------------------------------------------------------

          It was glad tidings to the afflicted city, as for seven weeks little attention was paid to business, for men and women were more interested in the health and lives of their families than in money-making. Every man in the city who could use woodworking tools was employed in the making of coffins. John Blachford and Arthur Snelgrove were the only undertakers in town, and it was impossible for them to bury the dead, or even to supply coffins, but their hearses were kept busy from early morning till late in the evening. Men, with horses and wagons, who could be tempted by high prices offered to attend to the funerals, supplied the places of the undertakers. It was a gruesome sight every afternoon to see the line of funerals passing out York and King street to the Burlington and Roman Catholic cemeteries, and one that has never been forgotten by those who lived in Hamilton during that terrible epidemic.

                   ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

          The second of August was set apart by proclamation of the mayor as a day of mourning, prayer and humiliation, and probably no day was ever more religiously observed in this city. Nearly every home had been invaded by the terrible scourge, and grim death had selected some loved one as his victim. Everything in the form of amusement was suspended, and Nickerson’s theatre, on the corner of John and Rebecca streets, was closed. The people were in too serious a frame of mind to think much of pleasure. Even the churches were deserted, as it was thought that there was danger of infection in promiscuous assemblies. The newspapers had but little to say about the prevalence of cholera in the city, and had it not been for the daily published reports of the board of health, no one outside would have known of the scourge that was bereaving so many homes.

                   --------------------------------------------------------------------------

          When the cholera first broke out, there were a number of emigrants in the sheds down on the bay front who had been reduced in health by the poor fare and long sea voyages that was the lot of the unfortunate poor who were coming to Canada in those days; and the streets and alleys were in a very unsanitary condition. Walter M. Wilson, the city editor of the Banner, who belonged to what was then called the new school of phrenological doctors, became very much excited from the first outbreak of the epidemic, and while he omitted the use of the word cholera from his articles, he devoted considerable space every day calling attention to the unsanitary condition of the streets and alleys. The Russian war was then going on, and Mr. Wilson got it into his head that the pestilence of cholera that was ravaging not only in Canada and the United States, but also other countries was a prelude to the millennium, and this doctrine he preached daily in his newspaper articles. He thought that only the wicked would engage in war and kill one another, and when there was none but the just left, then the reign of peace would begin. Wilson would never go from his home without a bottle of cholera mixture and his pockets filled with chloride of lime. He was a man of deep religious convictions and a total abstainer from the use of intoxicating liquors. He was probably the best writer and scholar connected with the daily press in this city at that time, but the terrors of the increasing death roll and the constant funeral processions seemed to unbalance his mind. Mr. Wilson had three bright little boys and the heart of the father was centered in them. The boys were taken down with cholera and their mother was with them day and night, till finally she was prostrated with the disease, and died within a few hours after the attack. The approaching dissolution of his wife made poor William frantic, and when the end came, he left the house and went to the hotel on the corner of James and Main streets – now occupied by the Victoria Insurance company – leaving his three sick children in the care of others. A. T. Freed was then working on the Banner, and when he heard of Mr. Wilson’s condition, he went to the hotel and remained with him during the night. Sometime during the next day Mr. Wilson died. The mother died on Sunday evening and that night, one of the boys also died. Two of the children recovered, and had it not been for the kind care of friends – for relatives, they had none – they might have suffered. It was one of the pathetic cases, of which there were many, during that terrible epidemic.

                             ------------------------------------------------------------------

          One morning, an Irish lady, aged about 80 years, died within a few hours from the time she was stricken down, and before sunset that evening, her remains were taken out to the cemetery for internment. On account of the number of deaths it was impossible to get the number of graves dug in time, and many of the coffins were stored in the chapel till the next day. The old lady’s son had read of people being buried alive during the time of great epidemics, and so impressed was he that he returned to the cemetery after the funeral and told the caretaker that he believed his mother was not dead, and asked that the coffin be opened to at least satisfy him. At first the caretaker tried to persuade the young man that if his mother was not dead when they put her in the coffin, she could not then be alive, for she would have smothered for want of air, but finding that he was bent on making the investigation, the coffin was opened. The mother was alive. As soon as a cab could be had the old lady was lifted from the coffin and brought back to her home. The family physician was called and he worked for several hours with restoratives, and by the next morning the lady was able tell the story of her returning to consciousness, when she found herself in the coffin. She tried to call out, but her voice was so weak that it doubtful if one could have heard her even though he had been in the chapel. When the coffin lid was taken off, she felt as if some great weight had been removed from her body and she swooned. The next she knew was when she was restored to consciousness and recognized her son and the family doctor. The old lady lived for many years after and finally died of good old age. The son is still a citizen of Hamilton and is now nearing four score. He never forgets the close call his mother had. There may have been others.

                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------

          Hamilton in 1854 had a population of less than 12,000 people; and when 44 out of each thousand died within seven weeks, it is no wonder that the people were excited. In New York City, with a population of 700,000 – numbering nearly seven times more people than Hamilton had at that time – only 1,807 deaths occurred from cholera, and not one hundred of those were adult Americans, the great majority being foreigners. In Barbados, the mortality from cholera, during six weeks of the same year was over 8,000. The science of medicine has progress since those days, and epidemics are of rare occurrence now. Sanitary laws are being enforced everywhere in civilized countries, and the people have learned how to eat if they would be healthy. Before the civil war in the United States, yellow fever visited New Orleans and other Southern cities as regularly as the year came around, and the mortality list was fearful to contemplate. No one remained in New Orleans during the fever season who could possibly get away. There were no underground sewers – nor are there any now, though they are arranging to begin a system – in New Orleans and the polluted sewage was carried off in surface drains by the constant flowing of water. When Gen. Butler took command of that city in 1863, the first thing he did was to organize a thorough system to clean the streets, and as a result, there were but comparatively fewer cases of yellow fever that summer. Before the union army evacuated New Orleans at the close of the war, the yellow fever was almost stamped out. The city government followed up the cleansing process, and such a thing as yellow fever epidemics is unknown in that city now, and that disease is about stamped out throughout the south. Cleanliness is the handmaid of godliness. Since the Spanish-American war, the cities in Cuba have been passing through a purifying process, and the city of Havana that was a perfect hotbed of yellow fever is now almost as free from the disease as is New Orleans. Filth produces disease, and the more energetic the board of health the less danger there is of epidemics.

                   ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

          Hamilton has done much along sanitary lines in its enlarged system of sewers and in scientific methods adopted for the final disposal of sewage. It is the only city in Canada that has adopted such a thoroughly scientific system, and there are less than a dozen cities in the United States with similar disposal works. As every Hamiltonian is supposed to know the principle involved in the sewage disposal system, it is not necessary to go into details; but for the ignorant outside world the statement is made that the sewage of this city passes through a purifying process in the two disposals works, the solids being separated from the liquids; and when the liquid passes into the bay it is free from smell and looks as clear and sparkling as spring water. The bay is no longer polluted by the outflow of filth being emptied into it from the sewers. Hamiltonians can feel a just pride that there home city was the first and only city in Canada to stop the pollution of its bay and of Lake Ontario. The time will come when it will be criminal to pollute the lakes and rivers and streams with the filth from the cities and towns along the banks. There is one thing yet for Hamilton to do to make a perfect sanitary system, and that is to compel the connection of all water closets and cesspools with the sewers. When that is done, contagious diseases will be almost unknown in this city.