1910 - North End Changes

“ ‘Among the many important matters dealt with during my term of office.’  Said Mayor McLaren today, ‘none has called forth more thought and painstaking effort than the development of the north end of the city.’ ”

          “Great Improvements Have Been Made in the North End of the City This Year.”                                     

Hamilton Spectator. November 19, 1910

As his term of office as mayor of the city was coming to end, and as he had no intention of seeking re-election, Hamilton Mayor Henry took the opportunity, given to him by the Hamilton Spectator, to reflect on his accomplishments.

The mayor unhesitatingly pointed to the changes in the north end of the city during the previous two years:

“ ‘ While much has been done – and the north end is surely coming into its own – there is still more to be done before the reviving of that district has been completed.’ ”

The mayor confessed that he “anxious that the public should know something of what has been accomplished, and of the program underway which will, if successfully carried out, make the north end the hive of industry which is its birthright, by reason of its favored geographical location.”

The mayor was allowed more than ample space to detail what has happened in what he termed as “1910 … the north end year:”

“Perhaps this statement may come somewhat as a surprise to those whose attention has not been directed to what has been taking place in that district, familiarly known as ‘Below the Bridge’ or ‘Skedunk.’ ”

Some of the most obvious alterations to the shoreline of Burlington Bay in the north end was the building of what was known as the revetment wall running eastward from Catherine street and the new roads in the area:

“ How many people who live south of King street have been for a stroll on the revetment wall? How many of them know that there is a street across that portion of the Inlet, where the old Northern elevator once stood, and that it is possible now to walk or drive across a good road from the foot of Wellington street to Wentworth street? “

The road just referred to by Mayor McLaren, still known in late 1910 as the base line, was an extension of Burlington street eastward:

“Some perhaps have heard, or read of, the base line, but I venture to say there are but few who know what the baseline is, and what it means to the future development of Hamilton. In a word, the base line is a continuation of Burlington street to the easterly limits at Ottawa street

“The discovery was made about three years ago, that, in the original surveys of the city, this base line was shown. It had never been opened, except for the strip known as Burlington street, from Bay street to Wellington street, and for the strip known as Gilkinson street, from Wentworth street to the Sherman Inlet, and from Sherman avenue to Irondale.”

Under Mayor McLaren’s leadership, the city council took the leadership to put in place the legalities required to move the base line project and once that was accomplished, workers lost no time filling in the relatively inlets along the surveyed route from Wellington street to a point just south of the former public space known as Landsdowne Park at the foot of Wentworth street north:

“At the present time, this road is in pretty good shape, and three weeks ago, I was over it in an automobile. The importance of this new thoroughfare through the north end cannot be over-estimated.”

Mayor McLaren then went to great lengths to detail the economic benefits gained by the opening of the roadway along the baseline:

“The value of it was strikingly impressed on us when the Oliver Chilled Plow works decided to locate here. The purchase of a site in the vicinity by the Olivers paved the way for the opening of a district that had been isolated from the rest of the city for 40 years. Its development in that time had been practically nil. It seems strange that a district which is now springing to life as the center of one of the greatest industries to be found in Canada should have remained dormant and neglected, in fact, a sort of deserted village, for so long a period.

“This has all been changed, almost in the twinkling of an eye. Property in that section, which last year was assessed at $1 to $1.50 a foot, has ranged from $15 to 20 a foot. Take the site now owned by the Oliver Chilled Plow works as an example : last year this property, which was owned by about a dozen different people, was assessed for $12, 380. This year, the Olivers have been assessed for the same property, $44, 460.”

On a more grass roots level, the mayor gave a description of the benefits to the new road :

“To revert again to the question of the value of the base line. A workman , living at the corner of Wellington and Burlington streets, desires to walk to the Oliver Chill Plow works where he is employed. By using the base line, he can walk the distance in 10 minutes – by actual measurement it being 3,500 feet. If this street were not opened, it would take this man nearly 25 minutes to get to work, his route being Wellington to Ferrie, to Francis, to Wentworth, to Gilkinson, to Hillyard. This, I think, is as good an illustration as I can give as to the utility and value of the road to the workmen in that district.”

Next, the mayor proceeded to discuss future plans for the area:

“The application has been made to the government for the patents to the waterfront between Wellington street and the property owned by the GrandTrunk. We feel that there will be no trouble about getting these patents, and, as soon as they are obtained, work will be commenced on reclaiming the land and putting it in shape for factory purposes. The location is one that has appealed, on account of its proximity to the waterfront, to a number of important outside manufacturers who have been looking over the situation in Hamilton, and beyond a doubt another important factory will be located there within a year, provided the city’s arrangements are successfully carried out.”

The revetment wall was something the mayor wanted to talk about as well:

“A review of the development of the north end would be incomplete without a reference to the revetment wall and what is still further proposed in that direction. It will be remembered that the idea of an extensive bay front improvement originated with J. M. Eastwood, and to further that project, a special committee was appointed by the city council in 1903 to inaugurate a scheme for bay front improvements.

“Mr. Eastwood, on his own initiative, had photographs taken of the bay front from Catharine street to the property of the Hamilton Steel and Iron company. The city engineer was instructed to prepare plans of the entire waterfront. The work of the committee was carried on during several years, and in 1905, the dock, then owned by the Rogers company, was acquired by the city at a cost of $6,000. This was paid at the rate of $1,000 a year, the last payment being made this year.

“The purchase of the dock was made necessary by reason of the attitude taken by the Dominion government, which wanted an assurance that this would be secured before the work of the revetment wall was commenced. In a memorial that was sent to the Honorable James Sutherland in 1903, it was explained to the minister of public works that in order to provide a place of recreation for the residents of the northern part of the city, the city had acquired a tract of about ten acres of land between Catharine and Wellington streets fronting on the bay and contemplated filling in the shallow water between the proposed revetment wall and the shore line. The area to be thus filled in would contain an additional twelve acres. It was also pointed out that a slip could be built from the revetment wall which would accommodate a large amount of shipping.

“The building of the revetment wall was completed in 1906. The city has dumped thousands of loads of garbage in this area south of the revetment wall, and the land is in such shape now that it has been taken over by the Parks board, which will continue the work of filling in and developing it for parks purposes. When completed, there will be 25 acres of excellent land on the waterfront for the recreation of the citizens.”

The mayor then concluded his overview of the progress of the north end industrial district by briefly pointing out two things.

The coal oil inlet, actually a portion of the Sherman inlet, had been a major problem for many years because of its polluted, smelly character. A deal had been reached with the Oliver Chilled Plow works company to fill in the inlet and install a huge water main to carry off water needing to reach the bay from the south. In return, the city would extend the base line road further east and give the company some of the patents to the inlet and waterfront properties it had recently acquired from the federal government.

Secondly, the mayor then made the case for increased Hamilton Street Railway service for the north end, both to service the needs of workers going to the manufactories, but also for residents:

“With the development that is taking place and which is bringing with it the erection of so many new dwellings, the population in that district will increase very rapidly, making it all the more necessary that the people should be served with a street railway to put them in touch with the uptown business district. The new car line will perhaps be of benefit for those wanting to do business uptown than to the workmen, who will use it to get to the factories where they are employed.”

Mayor McLaren said that great improvements had been made in the north end up to the conclusion of the year 1910, but it was the next council who would be expected to continue that progress.

1913 - Beach in Winter

Most of the Hamiltonians living in the city in 1913 were very familiar with the sandstrip which separated Hamilton Bay from Lake Ontario,

        Popularly known just as The Beach, the area was a summer resort with cottages, summer homes, hotels, recreational facilities and lovely beach swimming areas on both the lake and harbor sides.

        But what was The Beach like during the dead of winter ? To answer that question, the Spectator sent one of its reporters to find out and describe his findings for readers of the Great Family Journal.

        On March  6, 1913, that assignment was completed and the article began as follows :

        “The majority know it as a long vista of warm sand, lined with pretty cottages bathed in sunlight or bowered in the shade of lines of foliage tress that arch the long drive in many spots; where a breeze of cool lake air can always be had after a breathless day of heat in the city; a place where young men in blazers and tanned shoes, and the maidens on delicious boating costumes, stroll up the wide promenade to meet the boats in the evenings, or recline in hammocks in the Chinese lantern-lighted verandahs of the cottages and hotels.”

        However, the winter conditions that the young man from the Spec encountered in early March, 1913 were completely different :

        “Storm-riven bleakness and gaunt solitude are its characteristics now. Along the lakeshore lie hillocks of gravel-encrusted ice, thirty or forty feet in height, formed by the spray of the waves dashing up and freezing. At some points along the road where the wind gets a free sweep across the sand is swept of every vestige of snow, and on the bleak expanse, a few gnarled and distorted trees stand out in dreary silhouette against the winter sky, the very personification of steadfast endurance.”

        The snow drifts were so deep along the road (Beach Boulevard) and in front of the cottages, that sleighs generally took to the ice on the bay side because the road was virtually impassable :

        “The little city of cottages along the drives so bright in summer is now a city of the dead. Not a soul is to be seen. The windows of the houses are boarded up, and their appearance somehow suggests the bleak look of an eyeless face.

        “Curling, billowing snowdrifts nestle in the deep piazzas, where you saw the pretty girls lounging by the hammocks last summer. An ill-omened crow rises from the road in front, and takes its lumbering flight off towards Huckleberry Point, squaking derisively. As your horse flounders on through the drifts, you experience a feeling of mild amusement at the cold comfort conveyed by a sign on the front of the Arlington: ‘Ice Cream,’ and you can chuckle, if your teeth don’t chatter too much, as another sign becomes visible, standing pertly up out of the snowdrifts on the beach side: ‘No Bathing Here.’ ”  

British Visitors - 1912

1912-British Visitors

       At 2:30 p.m., June 20, 1912, a special Grand Trunk Railway train from Niagara Falls pulled into Hamilton’s Stuart Street station where a deputation of Hamilton politicians awaited its arrival.

          On the welcoming platform were Mayor George Lees, members of the Board of Control, the city’s Reception Committee, President H. L. Frost of the Hamilton Board of Trade, A. L. Hatch, chairman of the Hamilton Branch of the Canadian Manufacturers’ Association, Industrial Commissioner   Marsh plus several other prominent Hamilton citizens.

          As the train pulled to a stop and the doors of the special coach opened, Mayor Lees stepped forward to formally welcome a party of powerful businessmen from England.

          Everyone of the visitors, the Spectator noted, was “either the head or representative of some of the largest industries in the world.” The purpose of their visit was, again as noted in the Spectator, to see first-hand “the splendid possibilities Hamilton afforded for the investment of old country capital.”

          After a brief greeting, the party of sixty British manufacturers, plus the local gentlemen, was whisked away in a convoy of twenty-two automobiles to the industrial annex, where “the whirring of machinery emphasized the story of the city’s tremendous expansion.”

          The first plant to be visited was the Oliver Chilled Plow Works, where a tour of the plant was conducted by Superintendent  Dann. Of special interest to the visitors was the means by which the plows were painted and varnished, using a specially-quipped apparatus powered by electricity.

          Another feature of the Oliver Chilled Plow Works was the underground tunnel which contained all the plant’s electrical, steam and water pipes. The tunnel, large enough to permit a man to stand up, had various smaller branches connecting it to the various departments in the plant. Because of the set up, repairs on the various pipelines were facilitated.

          The inspection of the Oliver Chilled Works plant was so thorough that even “the excellent washrooms impressed the visitors … sanitary water fountains are situated all over the plant and sanitary soap bulbs are also supplied.”

          The party also closely inspected the new Wagstaffe’s jam factory. They were told that the company employed five hundred and seventy-five people, five hundred of them were women. Jams and other foodstuffs were prepared under the most sanitary conditions possible at the day, every employee being supplied with a white coat, white overalls and white cap. Each visitor was presented with a complimentary jar of the company’s best product.

          Besides the Oliver plant and Wagstaffe’s, the visitor made whirlwind tours of International Harvester, the Berlin Tool and Machine Company and Sawyer-Massey.

          After the formal factory tours were completed, the party paid a short visit to the Hamilton Jockey Club, where the British visitors spent a considerable amount of time of the betting wickets.

          After the Jockey Club visit, the party was motored to the Royal Hamilton Yacht Club house for a brief luncheon, after which the ‘around the bay’ trip was resumed, returning to Hamilton via Burlington and Aldershot.

The visitors were driven to the incline railway located at the head of James Street South. After riding to the crest of Hamilton’s “mountain,” the visitors enjoyed the panoramic view of the lower city, harbour and Lake Ontario. A drive through the grounds of the Hamilton Asylum for the Insane was followed by a spin along the edge of the escarpment to the East End Incline railway for the descent to the lower city.

          The Spectator reporter who accompanied the British visitors and their hosts described the “around the bay’ trip in terms of auto racing : “Barney Oldfield would have had to exert himself to beat this bunch. Dust in large quantities was swallowed. The washrooms at the Hotel Royal and the R. H. Y. C. worked overtime and much water was utilized in an effort to wash down the dust.”

The finale of the visit was a lavish banquet held at the Royal Hotel. After the meal, the speech-making was started by Hamilton Mayor George Lees. The mayor told the visitors he had heard through the newspapers hat they had untold millions in their pockets which they did not know what to do with. He felt that Hamilton was deserving of their investments because of its cheap power, natural gas, water facilities, blast furnaces and excellent manufacturing sites.”

The next speaker, responding to Mayor Lees’ toast, was J. L. Burlingham, chairman of the British delegation. Although he said his delegation was delighted with Canada, he felt he must tell the mayor that they were not rolling in money. They were only here to “spy out” Canada’s advantages with the object of reporting back to their firms. He complimented Hamilton on its splendid appearance and extended his, and the delegation’s, thanks to the reception committee for their warm welcome.

The organizer of the tour was British journalist, W. L. Palmer, who was given the task of proposing the toast to Canada. Noting Canada’s loyalty to England, Palmer said “if today or tomorrow Canada needs our assistance, everyman in the British land would fly to your help, just the same as everyman in Canada would fly to us in times of trouble”

Palmer felt that Hamilton seemed to embrace every advantage, both natural and commercial, and said that the city had the mark of destiny upon it.” In particular, Palmer was delighted with the view from the mountain.

“I am certain I am richer for having come to Hamilton today,” Palmer said before being interrupted by an outburst of laughter.

“Whose horse was it?” a voice from the floor asked.

A somewhat embarrassed Palmer admitted that he “visited a race course for the first time in my life; I bet on only three races, and won everyone.”

Before sitting down, Mr. Palmer had to air a complaint about the distortion and inaccuracies of Canadian newspaper reporting : “I want to make a suggestion for the benefit of your Canadian press, and that is to develop accuracy in your reports. A very Liberal paper charged me of accusing the Liberals of being disloyal. I might as well accuse the King of disloyalty.”

Palmer denied telling members of the delegation not to talk to the press, but did tell them not to be too lavish in giving details to the Canadian reporters “because they would not get them right.” Palmer pointed out that he was quoted as giving certain trade figures at $2,000,000, whereas he had said $200,000,000 : I suppose, however, that was near enough.”

Palmer ended his toast with the observation that “they do not fully understand Canada in Great Britain; but we hope to give them a more accurate knowledge in the future.”

Hamilton’s venerable postmaster, Mr. Adam Brown, responded to Palmer’s toast by declaring that “Canada is now the brightest in the British Crown.” Commenting on Hamilton’s industrial advancement, Brown declared “there is nothing of what I did in my political life that I cherish more than the help I gave to the iron tariff that made Hamilton the Birmingham of Canada.”

Mr. Brown went on to boast that while trade was extremely busy in Hamilton, his post office rarely lost anything sent through the mails. M. Brown received a hearty round of applause when he mentioned Canada’s participation in the South African war :”Canadians covered themselves with glory there, and would do so again.” Brown concluded with an impassioned declaration that while Canadians are loyal to the British King, “let it be our proud boast that we owe allegiance to the King of Kings.”

After the applause for Mr. Brown’s toast died down, Mr. Palmer rose again to say : “It gives me double pleasure to hear Mr. Brown here tonight. He is a strong pillar in the imperial fortress, just like his son, George Brown, in England, who is a credit to Canada”

Mr. S. A. Hubston, of Eastwood, Nottinghamshire, gave the toast to Hamilton, in which he attributed the city’s success to “a contented democracy” and “splendid organizational powers.” He also felt that Hamilton had an advantage over England because of its “new labour” contrasted with Britain’s “old labour” which. He claimed, was more hesitant to adopt new ideas.

The banquet speeches were concluded by Controller Bailey, chairman of the reception committee, who told the delegation that it was his hope “that you will invest some of the little capital you made at the races today.”

Engraved with the crest of the City of Hamilton, the menu cards produced for the banquet served as fine mementos of visit June 20, 1912 visit of British capitalists to Hamilton. The delegation was also presented with literature and photographs promoting Hamilton.

At midnight, the special Grand Trunk Railway train provided for the British visitor pulled out of Hamilton’s G.T.R. yards and the 9 ½ hour whirlwind visit was over.

Gurney Fire - 1910

At 5:35 p.m. on a cold February day, February, 17, 1910, many workmen in the Gurney-Tilden foundry were glancing at the clock anxiously anticipating the end of that day’s shift.

          Suddenly, with out any warning whatever, volumes of thick, acrid smoke poured up the building’s stairways and through elevator shafts. Within seconds there was a mad scramble as the workmen quickly headed for the exits.

          There were over 200 workmen employed in the section of the building where the fire broke out. Many barely escaped with their lives.

          One workman, interviewed after the fire, escaped down an elevator shaft by gliding down a greased cable :

          “We were so thick coming down the elevator rope that the man who was coming down beside me, kicked me in the head several times, and I thought that I would lose consciousness between the thick smoke and the kicks I received.”

          The Gurney-Tilden foundry was a large, four storey brick building which ran the whole bock on the east side of John street between Gore (Wilson) and King William street.

          A major department of the company was the japanning room where black enamel was prepared so that the stoves could be lacquered to a durable, glossy finish.

          It was later presumed that the insulation on one of the electric wires which ran over the lacquer pots burned through, causing the wire to fall into the hot flammable liquid. Following a brilliant flash, dense, black smoke rolled along the length of the floor, enveloping the room in semi-darkness in a split second.

          Mr. William H. Griffin, interviewed after the fire, said that he was passing the lacquer room, “when suddenly there shot up from the lacquer tank a big flame, which instantly caught the stairs, which were close by. Then the smoke began to rise from the tank and stairs in dense volumes. The girl, Miss Payne, and the boy, Ed, the only two employees in the room, besides myself, fortunately were not near the tank; had they been they would have been burned to death, as the flame would have enveloped them. I at once cried fire and the girl began to develop hysterics and seemed powerless to move, so I pushed her through the door and Mike Griffin, another blacksmith, helped her to escape. I then notified all I could of the fire.”

          Harry Bowden Jr., a foreman of the girls’ lock room said to the press after the fire that Dunnett rushed into his room shouting “Fire! :”

          “I told him to be quiet, and hastened to assure the girls that there was no cause for alarm, and succeeded in keeping them from becoming excited. They quietly got their hats and coats, and after I had seen them all safely out, I left myself.”

          As the Central Fire Station was less than a block from the scene of the blaze, there were several streams of water turned on the flames within a very brief time after the alarm was turned in.

          A Times reporter on hearing the fire alarm rushed to the scene from the newspaper’s office just a few blocks away at the corner of  King William and Hughson streets.

          Turning north on John street, he could see that the whole street was filled with dense smoke. Later, he wrote that “the scene was one of the most thrilling ever witnessed in Hamilton. All along the building, windows were seen to crash through. The firemen ran ladders up and three or four men piled out of each window helter skelter onto the ladder and slid to the ground. They were hardly able to walk.”

          At one of the windows, a man was seen smashing glass with his bare hands, and then climbing out onto the window sill. After the fire net was put under him, the people below called for him to jump. At first, the man was hesitant; the crowd’s pleas for him to jump renewed but were more a sending for appeals rather than commands.

          Finally, the man hurled himself off the ledge and pitched headlong into the net. His name was Samuel Hobson, Later Hobson was quoted as saying that he saw the smoke pouring forth and realized that he had to get to the windows “but the smoke was faster than I, and I had great trouble in finding the windows. As soon as I did, however, I heard the voices below yelling to me to jump and I did so.”

The fire was mainly limited to the lacquering room and the firemen were able to have it extinguished within minutes.

As the dense, poisonous clouds of smoke began to clear, efforts were made to account for all the employees who would have been at work in the vicinity of the lacquering room.

“Where is Harry Bawden?” someone cried out.

 Ladders were set up allowing several firemen including the Chief to plunge into the smoke to search for any missing workmen. Within, the firemen reappeared with not one, but two, lifeless bodies.

Both bodies were carried to the sample room A large crowd followed, anxious to learn the identities of the two unfortunates.

 Among the crowd was Harry Bawden, Junior,

“As he peered over the shoulders of the crowd, he was horrified his father stretched out, cold in death.”

The other victim, Arthur McCulley, had only been working at the Gurney foundry since the previous Monday.

Chief Ten Eyck, who happened to be a personal friend of McCulley, had been the one to find his body in the building :

“That he lost his way and did not know the layout of the room he was in was shown by the fact that in going from where he was working to where the body was found, he had passed a door which would have led him into the other part of the building and, for a time, out of the smoke. He would then have been able to get out.”

While McCulley lived for a while, due to the resuscitation efforts of Police Constable Campaign, he could not be saved. Both McCulley and Harry Bawden suffocated and there were no burns on either body.

Percy Woodbridge risked his life in a vain attempt to save one of his comrades. He said that “it seemed as if a black curtain  had been thrown over the entire department. I could not see a soul in the place because the smoke was so thick and it was all the time becoming denser. As I was slowly making my way across the room, I almost tripped over a man who seemed in a state of suffocation. With all the strength I could muster, I tried to assist him to the window, but he was too much for me and he fell from my grasp across a bench, apparently unconscious. That man, I believe, was McCulley.”

Coincidentally,  Percy Woodbridge’s 9 year old sister-in-law happened to be in the neighborhood of the Gurney foundry when the fire broke out.

          “I was walking along John street about twenty minutes to six,” she said, “when I heard the reels coming, and looking up at Gurney-Tilden’s factory saw that it was on fire. Then a man appeared at an upper window, and I cried “Look, look, there is a man at the window. Oh, poor man, he might be my brother-in-law. I then saw the fire escape put up and when the man was brought down, I saw it was Percy. I then hurried home and told mother.”

Harry Bawden Junior had collapsed upon seeing his dead father’s body. He was sent by cab to his home, having the responsibility to tell the sad news to other members of his family.

When a Times reporter called at the Bawden home with the purpose of obtaining a photograph of the dead man, he found the son “scarcely recovered from his terrible shock, he staggered around under the burden of his grief, talking incoherently. Upstairs the dead man’s widow, heartbroken, sobbed pitifully.