Page Contents
LIFE IN THE EARLY 1900'S: PRESERVING FOR THE WINTER
After he had departed, I couldn't help thinking how different our way of life must be to the days about which he was curious. What did the people do in work and in diversion in their idle moments? As far as work is concerned, the line of work of the average working man would be different. One must remember that at that period of our existence, we were not officially a Town, at least, we did not have a Railway, we had no Street Lights, no Waterworks, no Sewers, no Paved Roads. There were no Radios, no Television, and no Picture Shows. There were no Comic Books, no Ice Cream, nor Cones. Candy was a very simple thing. There were no Daily Papers coming into Town. When I was a boy, as we had not much communication with Toronto once the Boats stopped in the fall, we read more Buffalo papers. In fact, two of my brothers peddled Buffalo papers for quite a while.
In food too, there has been a great change from that time. Our Butchers bought their meat supplies from the farmers direct and did their own butchering. There were practically no canned goods to be had. Usually, the working people had to lay in much of their own provisions for winter, such as potatoes, apples, salt fish, pork and beef. Many a weary hour I put in peeling and stringing apples to dry. These would be hung in festoons from the kitchen ceiling. It didn't matter about a few flies and some considerable quantities of the dust that would accumulate on them. To be sure, the good housewife would give them a good wash before cooking them. Of course, no boy could resist the impulse to help himself to a handful or two of the dainties when mother was not looking. If you have never munched a mouthful or two of these dried apples, you can have no idea how tasty they could seem along in midwinter. Of course, one had to partake of them in moderation, if one did not wish to enjoy a decided pain under his pinnie.
Read more about it!
I don't propose to tell you ladies what women do when they meet together. I do suppose that hats, dresses, and hairdos take up all their time. They would never discuss other women in their absence of course. As far as my family was concerned, we took one weekly paper. And it was common practice to pass papers along to the neighbours. There were few books to be had in those days and it was during that period that our Public Library began to be of use. You must know that we had a Library in 1800 and while it was ruined when Uncle Sam playfully lit a match to our Town, it bobbed up again. During the winter, there would be sleigh riding and skating, and snow fights. What a cheerful sound the sleigh bells gave forth. Much more musical than the blast of a horn or the loud exhaust of some of the motor vehicles that pass along our streets.
Snow birds were snared in the same way. There used to be plenty of them around. I wonder how many have seen a flock of snowbirds in flight. They have a curious wavy, up and down flight, different from any other birds that I know of. Then there are always lots of Ducks around the River and Lake and the Ponds along the Lake furnished roosting places for them. And there were thousands of Coweens. These birds used to fly up the river in the morning and in the evening, they returned to the Lake. As they always flew low over the water, they were fair game for anybody who could get a gun and a boat. They were never considered good eating, as they were usually fishy tasting. When I was a kid, we used to skin them as this removed most of the fishy taste. At certain times during the day, they would congregate in the eddy opposite the Queen's Royal.
In those days, there were plenty of minnows on which they fed. The pollution of the River water by sewage has pretty well cleaned out the minnows and other fish that used to plentiful in the river and lake. Speaking of Coweens, I remember that on one occasion, Jim McMillan, who was the proprietor of the American Hotel, bought himself a new shotgun. In those days, one had to load one's own shells. So Jim loaded a bountiful supply of the shells and announced that he was going down to the ice banks and have some fun with the ducks. He had a boarder named Keyes who had a planing mill just across the road and he and Bill McMillan got busy surreptitiously (what a word) and extracted the shot from the old man's shells and substituted rice for the shot. Poor Jim lay on the ice for a long time and banged away manfully, but nary a bird could he kill, until one bird, more bold than his fellows, got too close and was blinded by the rice on which they had been feeding. We will kindly draw a veil over the scene on James' return to his domicile. Nuff said.
[From March 19th, 1953]One night, they wanted someone affiliated with rheumatism to come forward and allow himself to be rubbed with their Kickapoo Indian Oil. Three men were invited to witness the rubbing, to insure that there would be nothing phony about it. The victim of the rubbing was Isaac Addison who had been badly crippled with rheumatism for years. I remember that his fingers were all doubled up with the disease and he walked with difficulty. Mr. William Campbell and Thomas McCue were two of the men. The rubbing took place in one of the rooms back of the stage and after it was over, Mr. Addison came on the stage and went through various motions, which demonstrated that there was great efficiency in the treatment. He died, however, a few weeks later. Another stunt was teeth pulling. Dr. Wolff would pull your ailing molars free, the only stipulation being that one was expected to buy a bottle of some lotion at a cost of 25 cents.
[From June 26th, 1952]But how did we kids amuse ourselves? Well, we managed all right with what we had. We made our own games, many of them forgotten by the modern generation, who have so much done for them. We enjoyed "The simple pleasures that always please." We had a Sunday school Picnic once a year. Sometimes we went to the Falls but often our Picnic was held in the Oak Grove, later known as Paradise Grove. Once we picnicked in the Wilderness. This isn't as wild as it sounds, but it is still there. Once we went to Center Island Park at Toronto but as many got seasick, we didn't repeat that trip. Many times we went to Queenston and sometimes we stayed home. You wouldn't find us in the Park at midnight either. Of course, in summer we bathed and fished. There wasn't much demand for bathing suits among us kids. And there were no so many snooping around the bathing spots to spoil our fun. Houle's Hollow and Kennedy's Hollow were favorite spots; also the big rock at the old Ferry. Those very names are unknown to the kids of today. Then, in winter, we had any number of natural ponds on which to skate. I wonder how many remember the old wooden skates with a screw to bore into the heel of ones' boot. I learned to skate on such a pair. Then along came the spring skates to outdate the wooden ones. You must remember that boots were boots in those days. No rubber heels nor composition soles, but good solid leather, well nailed on. Oh, by the way, I had a phone call from a lady the other day to correct me about the winning of that prize at the Kickapoo Indian show. It was Nell Sherlock and the prize was a Photograph Album, which the lady still has. It was won in January 1895 and Charlie Briggs prize was a bottle of medicine, which Charlie refused to accept. In case you don't recognize the lady under that title, she is now Mrs. William Thompson Sr. At that time she was one of the popular girls as was the other lady whom I mentioned.
To get back to Music. Not many kids learned to play a Jews Harp, but they were quite common in my day. I remember a man who was well known and who came to High School one Friday afternoon to entertain us and he played two of those instruments, manipulating them with his two little fingers. He was J. J. Devoe, Jerry, as he was usually known, a prominent fruit dealer and at one time, he had an apple evaporator in the building at the Dock, now a basket factory. I ran a peeling machine for him and received SEVEN CENTS per hour. I also packed apples for him in later years. He was a nice man to work for and very careful and gentlemanly in his conversation. At an earlier time, he had a Pop factory on Delatre Street and lived in the house at the corner of Front and Queen Streets.
GAMES
[From October 30th, 1952]He spoke of the game of shinny, which he described as hockey without skates. Well we played shinny. Hockey had not been invented then. It was not an organized game with a book of rules and a referee and a fixed number of players on each team. In fact, there were no teams. We just got together and played for fun and it was fun and good, healthy exercise. Any number of boys made a side. Two leaders were chosen and those leaders chose their men, having alternate choices until everybody present was on one side or the other. A couple of stones at each end made the goals. Anything with a crook or a knot at its business end was the shinny stick. By the way, we were instructed by our headmaster at school that the game was really "shinty." Sticks were of any convenient length and weight and almost anything did for a puck. And we played on ice or grass and we played for fun, not anything resembling a prize or award.
Alas, he missed the ball but hit terra firma a mighty dig. He didn't move more than an acre of soil, for the sole of his boot was not equal to the unexpected task of cultivating mother earth, and quite suddenly parted company with the rest of his footwear. A visit to Tom Holahan's Shoe Repair was necessitated, after, of course, a stop at a nearby hostelry for rest and refreshment.
Read more about it!
AN IMPORTANT MILITARY CENTER
My grandfather came here with the 60th Rifles and finished his time with the Royal Canadian Rifle Regiment. My father and the late John Raynor were born in the Barracks in Gibraltar. Raynor's Regiment was the 68th. My father and John Raynor both served in the Niagara Company of the 19th and were at Phillipsburg in 1864 and 1865 and were out for the Fenian Rains of 1866 and 1870. When our 19th marched to Fort Erie they were with the 16th, which I have referred to as the Peacemakers. They were so called, because they always arrived too late for action, as was the case in 1866.
The practice of holding or having training camps was begun or resumed in the 1870's. One of my early recollections of those Camps was being in the Gallery at St. Mark's and looking down at the Queen's Own Rifles who filled the Church. I was puzzled by the letters Q. O. R. on their shoulder straps. Although Military methods and military training have seen drastic changes in our time, yet it seems natural to see soldiers on our streets. Many of our finest young men have gone forth to serve their country and empire in modern times and some of the nicest boys that I have known, left their bones in far away lands. So, naturally, we regard our Town as a Military Town and are proud of its Military History.
The 100th Regiment is quite often mentioned as being in Niagara. I find in Miss Carnochan's History, a list of units stationed at Niagara, among them being the 100th Regiment. In a report from Gen. Riall dated 8th July, 1814, it appears that 100 of the Regiment were stationed in Fort Niagara and in Fort Mississaugua, there were 5 officers and 266 rank and file, 121 sick and wounded. I used to hear a lot about this unit when I was a boy, as the Town was pretty well sprinkled with old soldiers. It is rather peculiar what things you pick up about people in a life's journey. I remember Captain J. B. Geale, for instance. He was my grandfather's Captain in the Royal Canadian Rifles, as I find his name signed as such during the first nine months of 1854. Well, in that year, the Crimean War broke out with Russia and apparently a call must have gone out for men.
Captain Geale didn't go, although he wanted to, but his wife wouldn't consent to his going. So he resigned his commission. We had an old soldier for a neighbour when I was a boy, Joe Eares. One day, Capt. Geale's name came up in the course of a chat, and Joe blurted out, "That ere Bloody Coward," and with that he regaled me with his views on the brave Captain. I knew the Captain later in life and I thought him a pretty fine fellow, respected and respectable.
I always understood that the 100th Regiment became the 2nd Battalion of the Royal Leinsters, under a plan then in vogue in British military circles and an occasional mention of the unit would appear in the press. Those old soldiers were moved around the globe. My grandfather enlisted at Maidstone, Kent, England in 1830 and was stationed at Enniscorthy, Ireland, where he got himself a wife. From there, he went to Gibraltar where my father was born, then to Corfu, next Jamaica, Amherstberg, and wound up his Army Career and his life in Niagara.
I remember two old men who served in the 100th Regiment, Obadiah Creed and Thomas Burns. Tom was on the Customs at the Dock for a good many summers and I got to know him well. He had a great fund of stories and as any good story will tell you, mostly any happening would bring up the recollection of a story. When Tom was in the Army, here in Niagara, he was in the Regimental Band. He said they had a very effective march the bandmaster used quite often. The men had set a part of it to words of their own, part of it being "The dirty old devil, he died from drink, tear 'im up, tear 'im up." A certain officer of the Regiment died and was buried in St. Mark's Churchyard. It is a well-known Army custom when marching away after a funeral, to play a good, brisk march. On this occasion, the band struck up the march I have mentioned, when sharply the Colonel stopped them and sternly forbade them ever to play that tune again. Of course as Tom explained, the officer was a heavy drinker as was the Colonel himself, who according to Tom went the same way.
When I was in the 19th, we had Military Funerals and Tom Burns often acted as Sergeant in charge of the firing party. Tom's own son died in Toronto, and as he was in the regulars, we gave him a Military Funeral and while Bob Reid was nominally in charge of the firing party, Tom handled us at the grave in St. Vincent Graveyard. He was a good head and I really enjoyed knowing him. He could tell a joke with a wooden face and many a quiet chuckle he had to himself.
In my early days, the Town was plentifully sprinkled with old soldiers and some of their descendants are still with us. I could not begin to say who all would come into this category, but I can mention a few, among them being the Fellows', the Nisbets, the Holahans, the Hindles, Mrs. Mary McClelland and my own family to mention only a few.
My dad, being a soldier's son, knew them all and of course, we knew them through him. Two of the Irishtown residents that I remember best, were particular cronies of his. They were Dickey Glazebrook and Mike Hahassey. Dickey lived in a small log house on Niagara Street. This house stood on the lot now owned by Wm. Wraith. It faced on Niagara St. and had a fine boxwood hedge in front of it and a flagstone walk leading up to the door. In the days when St. Mark's had a gallery all around it, we used to sit in the gallery and Dicky had the pew next and if Dad happened to be absent, we kids were well looked after by friend Dicky.
Not far away, sat another old soldier named Jenkins. He used to sit with his back to the wall and he had a decided grease spot on the wall where his head rested. You may not know it, but all those old soldiers used hair oil quite freely and their hair was parted at the back and brushed forward. This was known as the "Soldier Crop".
Mike Hahassey was a smallish man, very Irish. Mike always grew his own tobacco and cured it himself. He always carried a twist or two of it in his coat pocket. Not many borrowed it, as it was pretty strong stuff.
Two of the younger denizens of that district were Pat Flynn and Toby O'Brien. Full of old Nick, fond of playing pranks, they were the life of the neighborhood. Walter Freel was another who lived there, a descendant of one of the earliest settlers of the district. Many of the houses occupied by these people have from time to time been removed as their owners died off or moved away. During the last few years, other people have come in and houses have been built to shelter them. Along John Street, there are three large houses, which have usually been owned and occupied by people from "over the border." The Greiners, the Lansings, the Bissells, the Rands, the Sheets and they are still owned by subjects of Uncle Sam, if I may so describe them.
Of course, in those days, there were no motor vehicles, no machine guns, and no bombs. Our rifles were single shot and used black powder. In fact, our outfit was not much better than it had been for many years before. And our pay as privates was fifty great big cents per day, which was supplemented by 25 cents from the county and another 25 cents from the Town. We did not enter the ranks for money, but for love of Country and the desire if trouble should arise, of being of some use. You must remember, too, that our relations with Uncle Sam were not quite so cordial as they are now. I can remember several occasions in my time when that same gentleman brandished the big stick, notably over a dispute over Venezuela and again over the Alaska Boundary. I remember that once I was rowing three young American officers across the River and couldn't help hearing their conversation. Two of them had just returned from a visit to Toronto, their first, and they were comparing notes about Canada and Canadians. One fellow concluded the summation with these words: "You know we'll have to fight those fellows some day", and another put in, "And the sooner, the better." So you see what must have been in the minds of Military men among our southerly neighbours. Of course, we have grown since that day, and are now much more respected by other peoples, including the Americans, but there are still reasons why our young men should be willing to serve if the need should arise.
THE QUEBEC MILITIA PAYS A VISIT
The French were still here when our men returned from Philipsburg and my father told me of being on patrol duty along the riverbank. One pitch dark night, the picket was moving down the top of the bank. The night was as dark as a string of black cats. The picket was made up half local men and half French, the officer in command being French, while my Father was Sergeant in Command under him.
My father suggested to the Officer, before they started their patrol that the local men should be placed in the van, as they were more familiar with the locality. The Officer refused and placed his men in the lead. All went well until they came to the Railway Cutting near Fort George and the proud leaders went tumbling neck and cop into the cutting with a great clatter and some strong expressions of surprise and alarm. The Officer called out, "Vere de heck are my men gone." I can imagine the quiet chuckles of the Niagara men. However, after things got straightened out, the brave 19th were given the lead by a rather chastened officer.
These, along with the city regiments from Toronto and Hamilton, it was more convenient to move by water. Oh yes, there was the 31st from Grey County. Other units came by train. The 19th Lincoln, the 44th Welland, the 37th Haldimand and the 39th Norfolk. We kids used to get many an eye full of soldiers in those days. And horses, of these there were plenty. The 2nd Dragoons from our own neighbourhood and the Governor General's Body Guard and the Mississauga Horse. Nowadays, we hardly know what a good horse looks like but in those days, every farm had half a dozen steeds that served as Cavalry horses when required. And Batteries, these took horses too, the Welland, Toronto and Hamilton Batteries with sometimes a Battery from Guelph. Altogether, they furnished sights that gladdened boyish eyes. And how they were clad. I was looking at some of those ridiculous looking so called uniforms that adorn the persons of our military youths and I was thinking of the change that has come over soldiers in the matter of dress. In our old 19th, we wore a white helmet, adorned with a brass spike on top, a brass regimental crest in front and a brass chinstrap. This brass had to be kept shining bright and the white had to be pipe-clayed. We had a heavy scarlet coat with wool lining. We had a white waist belt and dark blue trousers with a red stripe. We lugged a heavy knapsack and a rifle and bayonet that weighed a ton at least. We were allowed to wear a Glengarry cap when off duty but our tunic had to be kept buttoned up to the throat, which was further protected by a stiff leather choker. And now behold what are called soldiers. Only half dressed and looking like something the cat dragged in. Of course, they do on state occasions manage to look half-respectable. But we have so departed from what we used to consider dress that we hardly notice such freaks. When you see decent women and girls with hardly enough on to cover their decency, nothing too bizarre in the way of clothing on men and soldiers startles us any more. I saw a man the other day on our main street and he looked as if he had just got out of bed and had forgotten to get dressed. I felt like giving him a darn good kick where it would be most effective. But then, we old fogies must remember that our young people and our old ones, too, have become uncivilized and more like the Zulus of South Africa. All they need is a bit of extra paint and a few feathers and there you are.
In a sequestered spot of the old Graveyard of St. Mark's, Niagara-on-the-Lake, rests an oblong stone. Partly hidden by trees and so battered and hacked that the engraving is almost effaced. Only by close inspection can the inscription [left] be read.
England has its ruins, Egypt its pyramids, Italy, its Coliseum, but we have only a few relics and such as we have, do not date further back than the fifteenth century. Niagara or Newark is one of the oldest settlements in Ontario and this moss-grown stone is one of its oldest and most sacred relics. If this stone could speak, what would it tell us of Battle, of fire, of weeping mourners, of peaceful days, of reverent worshippers?
Perhaps on that memorable 27th of May, it heard the booming of guns. Perhaps it saw the retreat of General Vincent and the Americans holding the grand old Churchyard for nearly a year and irreverently using the sacred edifice of St. Mark's as a Garrison for soldiers, who showed their disrespect for things sacred by constructing rifle pits through the consecrated ground. Perhaps it did feel a sense of degradation when it was used as a chopping block by the Americans, though people do say that stone has no feeling.
Think of a lot of rough soldiers, when the sun is just rising behind the Church, casting its beams upon blackened mounds, gray tombstones and unkempt men gathered around this stone with great hatchets at huge pieces of meat. Could anyone imagine a more incongruous scene? A meat shop in a graveyard. The very thought is horrible.
It might have heard the mournful boom of cannon from Fort George as the soldiers paid their last tribute to the inanimate form of the once gallant Brock. It might not, it is true, having heard the discussions which took place at the First Parliament, but the occupant of the grave may have taken part in them. Perhaps it heard the Act passed doing away with Slavery and to the honour of Canada be it said, long before Britain or the United States passed such a measure.
Then, after the seven months occupation of Niagara by the Americans, on a cold night in December, the sky is ablaze and women and children, with horror dilated eyes are looking on their burning homes and seeking shelter all around the country, walking miles through the snow. Every house in the Town except two were burned including the Churches and one stone is left alone, but cut and hacked as we have seen by the Butcher's hatchet.
Then, after all this turmoil, might it not have been gladdened by the return of prosperity? The smoke blackened walls of St. Mark's were again adorned with woodwork, massive oak doors were fitted to it, the Church was refitted inside, a new chancel was built, stained glass windows were put in and out of the ruins of the Town, another Fort Mississaugua was built.
When the Town became prosperous, our stone must have heard the tramp of scores of workmen on their way to the shipyard: here, so many gallant steamboats were built and launched to cleave the blue waters of Lake Ontario. Another tramp was heard, too, that of soldiers of the regular army. For within a stone's throw is a building for years called the Stone Barracks, and occupied by soldiers. Later, it became a Schoolhouse and now is used as a Masonic Hall.
I remember when the Government was giving land grants to the Veterans of the Fenian Raids, it was he who did all the correspondence for the men. I often used to drop into his office for a chat and I may say that one seldom found him alone there. One day, on coming in, I found him alone and fairly seething with indignation. I asked him what was the matter and he asked me if I had noticed a certain man leaving just before my arrival. He then told me that this man had come to ask his assistance in getting the land grant and by way of apology, told him that he had done him a wrong a few years previously. He had purchased his winter supply of coal but wanting some work done on the street in front of his house, he had approached a member of the Town Council in the matter. He was informed that if he would make Evans take out his coal and buy from him who was embarking on the coal business, he would see that his road was fixed. So he had complained to Evans that his coal was no good and Mr. Evans, rather than have any argument with him, did take the coal out and delivered it elsewhere, where, of course, it proved to be all right. However, Mr. Evans was sufficiently established in the estimation of the people that he served continuously in Council from 189l to 1896 inclusive. He then served four years as one of the County Commissioners, rounding out his municipal career as Warden of Lincoln in 1900. He never was Reeve or Mayor, but he was one of the most active members of Council in promoting the Waterworks installation and later on the Electric Light. He was a Veteran of the Queen's Own Rifles and was out with his Regiment at the Fenian Rain in 1866. He was present at the Battle of Ridgeway and many a tale he could tell of his experiences in that campaign. I remember the family as living in the house now occupied by Dr. Tranter, but later he bought the Wilderness and lived there for many years. He was injured in a fall from his vehicle when returning from his last session at County Council and his health began to fail, his business fell away and he finally passed away. I would say that he was one of the most useful of our citizens of his day and, while he may be forgotten in this changing world, yet some of us remember his good work and honour him for it.
In Miss Evans' letter to me, she indicated that she had read about the Pilgrimage to St. Marks and the noted stone on which the American soldiers had chopped meat. In this connection, she tells me that her sister Avie, in her first year at High School here, wrote an Essay about that very stone. The essay so pleased Miss Carnochan that she prevailed upon her to enter it in a competition that the Montreal Witness was having on "Historical Events in Canada." Her essay won the country prize and she gave the manuscript and the printed copy to Miss Carnochan. Miss Evans wrote me a digest of the article, which to me was most interesting and she was wondering if it would still be in existence among Miss Carnochan's papers.
This is the digest of Miss Avie M. Evans' essay referred to in our last article and is that given to us by her sister, Miss Isabel Lount Evans of New York. I think that she will not object to its being published. I have not yet inquired if the original is still in existence, so take the liberty of guiding me in this.
I, with a few others, was privileged to witness a gathering in our Town Park that would make even city dwellers open their eyes. I well remember when Dick Taylor was given a lease of the Park in 1913. It was my first year in Council and John Randall was Mayor, and he put through the deal without much consideration of the wishes of the members of Council. It was not popular with the businessmen of the Town and they presented a well-signed petition against the thing. I well remember the defiant air of the Mayor as he flung down the document on the table with the words: "There it is signed and done with. What are you going to do about it?" Well, the lease stood but it finished Randall as he was badly defeated by Bill Harrison at the next election. Poor Randall died not very long afterwards. He was an able man and made a good Mayor, but like many small men, he was inclined to be a bit arbitrary. This just doesn't do in public life. We don't live in a country where you do not dare voice your opinions without fear of punishment. When we hear of doings in Russia and her pals, we ought to appreciate the freedom that is ours.
But to get back to our Park. Time passes on as do the people, but some at least of what people do lives on. A good many years after the signing of the lease, it was decided to convert a part of the Park into a Sports Bowl. Some trees were removed and the ground was graded to form the bowl as it is now. Of course, one of the objects aimed at was to have an open air skating rink and for quite a while, this idea was carried out, but latterly our climate seems to have moderated to such an extent that that idea has had to be abandoned. With the opening up of the Queen's Royal Park and the Legion Park, our particular park is pretty much neglected except by small children and outside picnics, a most regrettable state of affairs.
However, it was not very much neglected on a recent occasion. If Dick Taylor and E. H. Shepherd and Johnny Randall could have been privileged to see what I saw in that same little Park, they would have opened their eyes. If Mayor Henry Paffard and his Council who really made the four acres into a Park, could come back, what a change they would see. They planted the trees; they planted a hedge around the whole Park and to give the hedge a chance to grow, they put a wire fence around the whole thing, with a gate on Picton Street and one on Byron.
I am sure that if they could have seen the crowd in the Park on that Sunday, they would begin to doubt that they were actually within the limits of the old Town of Niagara. I am not saying anything about the Lake, as the Town's actual and official name is simply "THE TOWN OF NIAGARA."
The Postal authorities added the Lake because Niagara Falls had come into being and was causing confusion in the mails on account of the similarity of names. I never expected to see such a crowd of people at a Church Service in the old Town. What a magnificent gathering it was. I wonder what the Bishop of Bath and Wells thought of it. To us it was simply grand. I never saw such a large gathering so well managed. I know many of us old timers who were at this Service were proud to be able to say they were proud to belong to the Town. And the Clerk of the Weather was good to us. While at times, it looked like rain, it just clouded over enough to moderate the heat. People in the big cities are familiar with the huge crowds that turn out for Ball Games and Horse Races, but I don't believe that as a nice, friendly, religious gathering, none of the large places could put us to shame. Certainly it was an inspiring sight and I am sure no one could attend such a meeting without deriving some spiritual benefit from it. The whole thing was so well and thoroughly arranged and carried out, that every thinking person who was there must have been glad to be there. I know I was and I believe we would all be benefited by having more of such gatherings.
LOOKING FORWARD AND BACK IN OUR TOWN
Council took a good deal of pains in making a Sports Bowl in our Park. The Park has been sidetracked of late years in favour of the Queen's Royal Park and the Recreation Park on King Street. As there does not seem much chance of an open-air ice rink at the Park, why, oh why not get rid of that eyesore which does not adorn the park. It is becoming more and more dilapidated and should have been removed long ago.
Another of the improvements given to us by the men of long ago is that of the cement walks. The first of these walks, that on the one side of Queen Street had been built by John Thornton, but the project undertaken some forty odd years ago was to replace most of the old wooden walks with cement. An issue of debentures was authorized and the work contract was awarded to the firm of Langley and Cook of Niagara Falls. The method of mixing concrete for those walks was not as good as that used in later years and many of those walks then laid down are sadly in need of repair or replacement. All honour to those men who gave us cement walks but let us not forget that when we stub a toe or two, time has marched on and those good walks have deteriorated. Tree roots, in many cases have caused upheavals, which in many cases have caused some depressions. When knees and elbows come in contact with that same cement, we are apt to realize that this is a hard, hard world.
Our predecessors gave us some sewers, which at one time were looked upon as not by any means, a necessity. With the flux of time and the growth of sanitary requirements, these have become more and more a necessity. The upper reaches of our Town are badly in need of such sewer connection. I remember that while the big Camp was here during the First Great War, Major Clyde Caldwell was Camp Engineer. He came to Council, of which I was then a Member, with a proposal to lay a Trunk Sewer along the bed of the One Mile Creek from the Camp to the Lake. This route was perfectly feasible from an engineering standpoint, and the Government would pay one-half of the cost. We agreed to this, but the Provincial Board of Health blocked the project by requiring that we build a large settling basin before we reached the Lake. The main Camp was removed to Camp Borden and the whole deal was abandoned. Have you noticed how the Western Part of the Town is being built up, where until recently there was not much but vacant land. Now this district will need sewers. The only way to supply that need will be a sewer using the very route I have mentioned. We should take in the Chautauqua grounds and give serious consideration to that very sewer project. And the upper end of King Street is in much the same state, building up and in need of sewer accommodation. These things cause one "furiously to think."
It is quite a common sight to behold two cars side by side, one trying to get ahead of the other. Gentleman, it isn't funny and a smile or a wise crack will not bring back a life if someone should be killed at the spot I mention. It seems to be the fashion when a driver has rounded Fort George and enters on the straight away on Byron, that the only thought that enters the head of these speed lunatics is "let her go." Council has very wisely erected a "Stop and Go" sign at Mississaugua and Mary Streets and a blinker at Queen and King. Very good and they are to be commended for these actions, but the intersection I am complaining about is also important. There is a Stop sign on Wellington on the side towards Ricardo, but there is nothing to direct or regulate traffic other than that. It is a common sight to see cars come belting down Wellington and across Byron at full speed, or around the corner with a scream of tires.
I well remember hearing a tremendous crash at the corner, followed by the screams of a woman. I hastened out doors and found a Telephone Co. Truck on its side with the driver pinned in his cab with his fingers caught in the door beneath him. Among us, we were able to lift the truck enough for him to release his hand and after being helped out of the upper door of his cab, he went over to the hospital nearby to get his hand dressed. I am simply writing of these things so that the public may be informed of the dangers that may be encountered down our way. I do not want to be accused of knocking either our civic heads or our Police, who cannot be expected to be everywhere at once. But it is nerve-wracking to hear and watch the noise-making traffic when a little common sense and patience on the part of our drivers would make life much more pleasant for people who live nearby. Certainly, something should be done and of course, Council should know and some of them do know about this corner. I do not need to point out who is the executive head of the community or to tell him his duty. I simply want to make my reading public aware of this dangerous situation and that includes, of course, the Mayor, the Reeve, the Deputy-Reeve, and every member of Council. If someone loses his life at this intersection, every last one of them will have to bear a share of the blame if nothing is done. We have a fine Town and I am proud to have been born in it and to have played some part in its affairs in the years gone by. Let us make it a safe Town, as well as a fine one. Everybody can help: Council, drivers, Police, man woman and child.
Miss Carnochan records some interesting incidents of its use and occupation as a Gaol. You will notice that I am using the old spelling of the word, which most of us understand it better when spelled "jail", although the pronunciation is the same. However, the present Town Hall was built in 1845 and was to be the County Courthouse of the United Counties of Lincoln, Welland and Haldimand and the use of the old place was abandoned, except for its occasional use as a prison.
In 1869, Miss Maria Rye purchased it and founded "Our Western Home." I had a call from a lady a few days ago and her visit recalled the old Home to my attention. My recollection of Miss Rye is of a tall, grey, grim, old lady who would be a severe taskmistress. I never had anything to do with the lady myself, and I only write of her from her reputation and appearance. Her mission was a very worthy one, that of bringing out from the old land girls who were orphaned and homeless. She must have thus provided a refuge for thousands of girls. I remember that when the organ and choir were removed from the Gallery at the rear of St. Mark's Church, rows of pine benches were placed therein, and the gallery given over entirely to the use of the Home. I remember that when a new 1st had been received, the benches were pretty well filled up, there being seating capacity for about a hundred girls. It seems that they would be brought out in batches of forty to sixty. The girls were all dressed alike and were not allowed any contact with us natives. They were placed in homes and periodically inspected as to their surroundings and general behavior.
The late Mrs. S. D. Manning was for many years the travelling inspector. The main building was quite a handsome brick structure and the grounds were beautifully kept. The house now owned by the Constables was occupied by the gardener, while the cottage now owned by the Farrons was known as "The Cottage," and it was here that any girls who had been returned from their employment were housed, until new homes could be found for them. They were kept segregated from the main home and had a separate matron. The late Mrs. Thomas Gobert was Matron in charge of the Cottage when she first came to Canada.
In the grounds at the rear of the main building was a brick building, used as a school. The late Miss Emma Chrysler was the Teacher there for a time before she married Walter Reid. I think the last teacher was Miss Madge Evans. The late William Keffer moved the school building to its present site and made a dwelling house out of it. Miss Emily Bayley was Matron after Miss Rye retired.
Somehow or other, people will persist in growing old as did even Miss Rye. She turned the Home over to the Church of England Waifs and Strays Society of London, England and she herself retired to England and ended her days there.
A local Committee was formed, of which the late Henry Paffard was Chairman until he left town for the west. J. DeW. Randall was Secretary, upon whose death in 1914, the Committee was reformed with Canon, the Rev. J. C. Garrett as Chairman and Herbert Macklem as Honorary Secretary-Treasurer. Among the members of the Committee were E. H. Shepherd, Thomas Hiscott, Arthur Onslow and myself. Upon Mr. Macklem's leaving Town, I became his successor and the last to hold the office. The last lot of girls came out in 1914, before the war broke out and came in charge of Canon Rudolph, Miss Bayley and Miss Manning having retired. Miss Barbara Powne was placed in charge. She had been in charge of the Cottage and as the girls grew out of control of the Society, she also did the travelling inspecting until all the girls were gone and then was written Finis to one of the best institutions that our Town has known.
