1914-02-07a

The home of the Dickson family on Mount Royal avenue was almost the scene of a sad fatality, Saturday afternoon, February 5, 1914.

          The hero was 12 year-old Clarence Dickson, and it was not the first time that Clarence was involved in a remarkable incident.

          In February 1914, Clarence lived with his mother, and his infant sister, Winnifred, aged 13 months. The three were sitting in the library of their Mount Royal Avenue home, and as the weather was bitterly cold outside, a hearty blaze was warming the house from the fireplace.

          As described by a Spectator, what happened next was truly frightening:

          “Mrs. Dickson was called from the room for a few minutes, and during her absence, little Winnifred, who was playing with a toy, drew it across the floor, and in doing so, backed right into the open fireplace. She was immediately enveloped in flames.”¹

               ¹ “Saved Sister’s Life : Little Clarence Dickson Gave Wonderful Display of Courage”

          Hamilton Spectator. February 7, 1914.

          Immediately and rather cooly given the danger of the moment, Clarence sprang into action to save his sister :

          “Her brother , who was sitting reading at the time, jumped to her rescue, and with difficulty, succeeded in smothering the flames from the child’s clothing.”¹

          The Spectator reporter than pointed out that such a display of calm and courage in such a situation would be unusual for most people, especially children, but it was not the first time for Clarence Dickson to show such presence of mind:

          “When he was only about 8 years of age, he and a little playmate wandered down to the bay front, and his little playmate got into deep water in the vicinity of the Grand Trunk wharf. This little lad made every effort to save his playmate, risking his own life by getting down on a floating log to try and reach his companion.”¹

               Sadly, Clarence’s efforts were brave, but not ultimately successful.

          The third instance where Clarence’s unexcitable nature came into play when he had been sent to a store on Locke Street South to purchase some bread.

On his way back home, crossing Locke street, near Pine street, Clarence was struck and run over by a Hamilton Street Railway streetcar.

Miraculously, the street car passed over young lad and other than a few scrapes and bruises, Clarence was unhurt :

“One would naturally expect a child of so tender years to be almost frightened to death, but not so with this little man, he picked up the bread he was carrying, and, quite unconcerned, walked off home, not even noticing the excitement that the accident had caused among the bystanders.”¹

1914-02-07

“One of the most disastrous fires to visit this city in some years broke out shortly before eight o’clock this morning in the big department store of R. McKay & Co., occupying the premises at 55 to 63 King street east.”

          Hamilton Times.  February 7, 1914.

          The big fire at the McKay department had barely been brought under control when the afternoon editions of the Hamilton Times and the Hamilton Spectator had to go to press.

          In the rush, each newspaper reporter filed an account of how the blaze was discovered based on what they had learned – understandably the stories conflicted as little time was available to interview multiple witnesses.

          The Times report read as follows :

          “The alarm was turned in at 8:03 by Charles Wilson, of Wilson Shoe store, a short distance east of the McKay establishment on King street. Mr. Wilson was walking across Gore Park, just as the bells were striking eight, when he noticed smoke coming from the edge of the roof.

          “At first sight, he thought it to be steam, but upon getting closer he became convinced that it was smoke and rushed for his store to turn in an alarm. Noticing two firemen on their way to breakfast, he called them and they rushed into the McKay store while he phoned for the fire department.”¹

               ¹ “$300,000 Fire This Morning in R. M’Kay & Co. Block : Probably Caused by a Gas Heater – Threatened Great Destruction in Early Stage – Well Handled and Quickly Subdued Without Reaching the Adjoining Buildings”

          Hamilton Times.   February 7, 1914.

          The man from the Hamilton Spectator interviewed a different person regarding how the fire alarm was put in :

           “Twenty minutes before the blaze was discovered, the watchman, George Elliott, had made his regular round, which included the workroom, and he noticed no sign of fire.

          “In a short period, the blaze spread with such rapidity that the entire was a mass of flames when the alarm was turned in. That was at three minutes to 8.

          “George Wild, an employee of the Wood Vallance company, noticed the flames as he was ascending the stairs to the general office, which is situated at the rear of the McKay building. He shouted to Thomas Alton, another employee, who ran across the road to the King William street station from where a general alarm was sounded.”²

               ² “M;Kay Building Fire – Started Early Today : $200,000 Damage Done by Flames and Flood : Thrilling Escape of Fireman on Icy Roof”

          Hamilton Spectator. February 7, 1914.

          The fire station had direct access to both John street and Hughson streets near King William and so, however and whenever the firemen were informed of the blaze, they were able to be on scene in minutes.

          No time was lost in laying hose, using every hydrant in the vicinity of the McKay building. Several streams of water were soon playing on the fire.

          Flames were shooting in all directions from the roof as the firemen went to work:

          “Several ladders were raised and streams were played in every window on the third floor, which was the most accessible from King street. Two lines were laid through the windows in the rear, and men were set to work on the adjoining buildings in an effort to prevent the sparks from igniting them.

          “At 8:30 the men had the fire completely under control.”¹

               Despite the short time that the fire fighters were attempting to get the blaze under control, there were two incidents that could have caused serious injuries, or worse, to two different men.

          Fireman Alex Henderson was on the sloping roof of the Wood Vallance building, adjacent to the McKay store, helping with a stream. The water, dripping from the hose he was helping to hold, quickly froze on the roof. At the same, time Henderson’s feet had become somewhat numb because of the cold. When he tried to change his position on the roof, he slipped, lost his footing completely and slid downwards.

          A crowd of onlookers, estimated at about 2,000, saw Henderson slip and slide downwards. All were spellbound as it seemed like Henderson was about to fall from the roof, but he held on to the edge of the roof long enough for some of his fellow fire fighters to rescue him.

          Fireman William Stotts worked out of the Bay street station, but was on his day off, walking along King street, when he heard about the fire at the McKay store.

          Stotts ran to the rear of the McKay building and used a fire escape to enter the building.

          Stotts got into difficulty as the flames were spreading rapidly and the smoke had become some dense. His only escape was to get on the roof :

          “The flames made such headway that they began break through the roof in different places and smoke began to belch out. The north wind drove in the direction of Stotts, and he was gradually forced to crawl to the edge of the roof.

          “In his perilous situation, almost overcome by smoke and the flames creeping on him fast, he was facing death by remaining where he was or taking a gambling chance by dropping to the pavement 40 feet below.”²

               The first fire fighters on scene quickly noticed their comrade’s plight, but urged him to hold for just a few more minutes. The call was made for the net to be brought from the nearby station.

          Stotts was on the point of passing out because of the smoke but he held out until the net was manned and in place. Despite his grogginess, Stotts managed to throw himself far enough away from the building so he would hit it on the way down. The men on the net successfully managed to catch Stotts before he hit the pavement.

          As noted in the Spectator, “five minutes after his hair-raising experience, he was busy fighting the fire.”²

          While the fire at the McKay department store was extinguished relatively quickly, most of the losses suffered by the firm were not because of the fire :

          :Although the blaze was confined principally to the third and fourth floors, many thousands of dollars of damage were done to the stock underneath. Tens of thousands of gallons of water were poured into the building at every angle, and this soaked through the first and second storeys, completely destroying some goods. Everything on the top floor was destroyed, as was the stock on the third floor, on which was located the millinery and mantles.

          “Fortunately the new spring stock had not yet arrived. On the ground floor, less damage was done than was expected. The water ran principally down the elevator shaft to the basement, which was stored with stock, and in this way much valuable stock on the ground floor was saved. The furs and mantles, which were stored in closets on the second floor, and will be removed from the building as soon as suitable quarters can be obtained.”¹

               The fire at the McKay department had barely been extinguished when the management began thinking of the next steps to clean up and prepare water-damaged, but still intact, goods for sale.

          (To be continued and completed in the next day or so…)

1914-01-30

“That his action in having the third reading of the mountain hospital bylaw deferred at the city council meeting on Tuesday evening was a spontaneous expression of opinion by the alderman, not the result of a carefully planned campaign, was the contention of Ald. Wright this morning.”

          Hamilton Spectator.   January 30, 1914.

          The city of Hamilton’s long-lasting tradition of loose cannon municipal politicians was in full evidence at the city council meeting of January 29, 1914.

          In an oft-repeated scenario, an already long-debated matter had been decided upon, the appropriate legislation crafted, and just one more vote needed to conclude the deal, butt…

          A Hamilton municipal politician has second ‘thoughts’ and decides to scuttle matter and refer it back to staff and committee for further study.

          The bylaw facing the third and final reading concerned the proposed site for a new hospital in Hamilton. While it was widely acknowledged that a new hospital was desperately needed in Hamilton, the location was a matter of debate.

          While technically still within the Hamilton City limits as they existed in 1914, the site that most citizens and politicians had seemingly agreed upon was above the escarpment, on the north side of Concession street, just west of what would become Upper Sherman.

          At the last possible opportunity to block the choice, Alderman Wright decided, on the fly, to have the three reading of the hospital deferred, with the hope that the proposed location would be completely eliminated at a subsequent meeting of Hamilton City Council.

          Alderman Wright sensed that public opinion was about evenly divided as regards the mountain site. The reasons against the mountain site were its inaccessibility, the need for the construction of an incline up the escarpment from the head of Sherman avenue in the lower city, the lack of water and services in the area which would have to be supplied and finally the feeling that the site was “exposed” and would place the patients and hospital staff at the mercy of inclement weather conditions and high winds.

          In an interview with the Spectator, the alderman justified his sudden move to kill consideration of the mountain site:

          “’Imagine,’ he said, ‘a mother being notified by the hospital authorities in the middle of the night that her son was at the point of death. What chance would there be for her to get to an institution on the top of the mountain at such an hour? It is for reasons such as this that I contend public sentiment is against the building is against the building of such an institution on the mountain.’ ”¹

               ¹ “Need Incline to Reach Hospital : Strong Argument Against Proposed Mountain Site : Ald. Wright Advances Other Reasons for Stand.”

          Hamilton Spectator.  January 30, 1914.

1914-03-09

“Chedoke park, West Hamilton, was the scene of an interesting ceremony, when Controller Morris, minus overcoat, officiating at the inauguration of his plan to provide outside work for the Gore street church unemployed by drawing dead-wood from the mountain face to the John street yard.”

          Hamilton Spectator.   March 9, 1914

          The controller thought it was a good idea – work would be provided for the men who were in desperate need for employment. While there would not be any wages paid, the workers would receive food and a place to keep out of the cold.

          Controller Thomas Morris not only officiated at the ceremony to launch his plan, he participated fully in the labor:

          “His officiation consisted of helping to garner a load of logs and heaving them on a wagon. Reports by post say there were mighty efforts and gruntings on the part of Controller Morris as he placed his shoulder trustfully under the logs. Anyway, he appeared pale and wan when he appeared at city hall later – albeit full of enthusiasm.”¹

               ¹ “First Load of Logs Leaves Amid Cheers : Controller Morris Aids in Impressive Ceremony : Are Men Satisfied With His Relief Plans?”

 Hamilton March 9, 1914

In the morning, the 110 unemployed men who had been seeking shelter at the Gore Street Methodist church in downtown Hamilton were addressed by Superintendent Sheard of the Salvation Army who pointed out “that the hauling of dead-wood from the mountain side, and the cutting of it into stove lengths for the charity department, would give them something to do.”¹

Controller Morris had been convinced that the plan would be welcomed and that all the men would show up at Chedoke Park that afternoon “and work like bees on the mountain side.”¹

However, there was not a little opposition to the plan, as shown in the following letter delivered by hand to the Spectator office:

“The unemployed of Gore street church have read that Controller Morris and George Wild had inspected the mountain face and found much dead wood there, and had come to the opinion that such things would provide work for the unemployed who have been securing free beds and free food. I would better say the hard floor and a piece of bread and soup for breakfast. I have not seen any beds.

“How would the city council like to lie on a hard floor all night, crawling with lice, and a basin of soup once a day? I don’t think they would like it very much. They have a good time and plenty of food. What does it matter to them?

“Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn.

“I am one of those Gore street palace boarders, and I can assure you I do not get ham and eggs for breakfast, or a good beefsteak, the same as Controller Morris and Geo. Wild get.

“They say we must work. Now, are they going to drive us like little dogs with a whip, and receive no wages for the work? What we want is work with a wage behind it. I will not work for a bowl of soup a day.”¹

An attempt was made to make Controller Morris’ plan more attractive to volunteers was decided upon and the following rate of wages was posted :

“One hour’s work – mattress and one * meal.

 Two hours’ work – mattress and two * meals.

Bowl of soup and bread.”²

² Hamilton Spectator. March 10, 1914.

In face of the opposition voiced to the plan of providing food and shelter in return for work, the Spectator gave some detail as to how the plan began :

“There were 110 men at the church (Gore Street Methodist church) Sunday night – single men mostly, many of them transients. The city officials came to the conclusion that these men should do something to earn the right to sleep on their mattresses on the church floor and for the bowl of soup and bread supplied them as breakfasts.

“So Controller Morris devised the plan of having dead wood taken from the mountain side to the John street yard, where these unemployed men were to cut it into stove lengths.”²

² “Right to Live Is Men’s Wage; Morris’ Plan : One Hour’s Work – Mattress and One Meal : Extra Meal For Second Hour’s Employment : Wood Splitting Sees 60 of 110 at Work.”

 Hamilton Spectator. March 10, 1914.

The first day that the Morris plan was put into effect, 60 of the 110 men staying at the church had done some work gathering dead wood:

“Controller Morris was quite delighted with their energy. Many of them were hot accustomed to saw and axes, but made the best of it.

“All of the sixty worked at least one hour, and a majority two hours. It is not recorded how many exceeded the two hours – for which there is apparently no reward.”²

The March 10, 1914 Spectator article cleared up some confusion published in the paper’s coverage of the Morris plan in the previous day’s edition.

The actual gathering of the dead wood, and the loading of it onto wagons, was to be done by city employees, who were being paid 22 an hour for their efforts.

The work provided for the “unfortunate transients” was to be done at the John street yard where the wood was taken. At that yard, the men from the Gore street Methodist church were expected to cut the wood into lengths which could be used in residences. This wood would be provided for free to those in need.

The third and final article on Controller Morris’ initiative involving wood-splitting in return for soup and shelter appeared on March 1, 1914 :

“Sixty of the 110 men who slept at Gore street church on Sunday night worked yesterday afternoon.

“Fifty of the 110 have sought new quarters.

“Many of the sixty who secured tickets for mattress and meals, although they did not work.”

“Men plead for a change in menu, consisting of coffee and bread for breakfast, instead of soup and bread. Are satisfied with soup and bread for evening ‘meal.

“Shortage of tools.

“Controller Morris is jubilant over success of his plan.”³

³ “Too Much Soup Grits on Men Splitting Wood : Pled For Coffee as Change in Limited Menu : 50 of 11 Flutter Away to a Workless Land : Morris’ Chuckles Attest to Success of Plan.”

Hamilton Spectator. March 11, 1914

While it would seem on the surface, the success of Morris’ plan were mixed at best, the controller told a Spectator reporter that he was jubilant with the scheme.

Morris also claimed that the men of Gore street Methodist church were chuckling :

“The reason for the chuckles, according to his explanation, is that, yesterday after surveying the men at work in the yard, he accompanied several of them to the old church and found that approximately fifty had flown. He asked why, and was informed that the odd half-hearted had vanished to spots. He declared that the men chuckled when they gave him that information.”³

Controller Morris was also chuckling, the reporter observed :

“For he takes the stand that that the city is well rid of the fifty odd who woud not work, and that the remainder are well-worthy of the soup and bread – possibly coffee and bread – which they are receiving for one or two hours’ labor. He thinks the remainder will stay at the wood-splitting job until regular work opens.”³

The final word on the whole effort (including a different count of numbers compared to Controller Morris) appeared in the Spectator as follows:

“The following letter, received by the Spectator this morning, from one of the men working at the yard, gives the other side of the situation:

“ ‘ We are in Canada out of employment, no money and no clothes and no food, except soup and a piece of bread, and what is more, no friends to assist us in our time of need, except Controller Morris and Geo. Wild, who say ‘Give the poor fellows work; they do not need money.’

“ ‘These unemployed were at the John street yard yesterday from 3 o’clock until after 6 o’clock. There were about 90 of them there out of 120, thus being 30 short of the total number. I guess that 30 were the loafers. They beat it out of town, making it better for the other 90.

“There were not sufficient saws and axes to set us all to work at once. Some worked one hour; others one-half hour, and about 30 did not do anything at all. They said they did work, and the foreman took their word for it, and they, of course, were given their tickets. Was that good management? Why, it is a failure. Let the city give us better employment than that !’

“The letter continues at length in a bitter vein about friends turning him down, and concludes with warm praise for the adjutant of the Salvation Army and ends with following P.S. ‘The bread supplied is dry. There is no butter.’ ”³

1914-03-09

“Marking a year of unprecedented growth in the motor and accessory trade, the first annual automobile show of the Hamilton Motor Dealers’ association opened at the new armories on Saturday night; and the big military pavilion never looked prettier than it does at the present time”

Hamilton Spectator March 9, 1914

It was a first for Hamilton – a week long automobile show at which dealers of automobiles and of the accessories needed to operate them could collectively display their goods to a very interested public.

The then still new armories building, built immediately to the south, and connected with the Drill Hall on James street north was the location selected for the show, and the immense space usually used for marching drills had been handsomely decorated.

For the official opening on Saturday March 7, 1914, the mayor of Hamilton was invited :

“Mayor Allan pressed the button which lighted the thousands of colored lights which are intertwined among the decorations, the band played God Save the King, and what promises to be a great week for the motor enthusiasts of Hamilton and their friends was off to a grand start.”

Hamilton Spectator.  March 9, 1914

A large crowd made to the armories for the official opening ceremony:

“Mayor Allan made an opening address from the balcony at the west end of the hall, surrounded by the directors of the show. He congratulated the promoters on enabling Hamilton to have such an excellent display placed at their door, and said that the show was a fair criterion of what great progress the city had made within the past few years. He said that it was only recently that one of the largest automobile manufacturing establishments in America had decided to establish its Canadian branch in Hamilton and he thought that the day was not too far distant when Hamilton would be looked upon as the auto center of Canada.

“Such an enterprise as the Hamilton motor dealers have manifested in arranging so magnificent a display of automobiles and accessories would do a great deal, he claimed, tin helping to advance the interests of Hamilton.

“The mayor’s address called for appropriate applause and nearly every motor horn in the large hall was tooted as a signal that the much talked of show was in full swing.”¹

¹“Large Crowds Attend Motor Show Opening : Brilliant Scene on Saturday Night at Armories : Flood of Light As Mayor Pressed Button”

Hamilton Spectator.  March 9, 1914.

When the show opened not every display had arrived, but the Spectator reporter who toured the hall the “the opening was one of which the management may well feel proud,”

“The decorations are particularly appropriate and handsome and the hall proved to be particularly well laid out for such an event. The ceiling proper of the big hall is hidden by an arrangement of bunting of different colors with fringes hanging down every few yards and a liberal use of divers colored small electric lamps.

“The sides of the large hall are beautifully draped and the balconies are hidden from view by immense Canadian and British flags. The booths in which the various displays are made, are neatly arranged, each having comfortable chairs for the patrons and large rugs make each look cosy.

“The Ninety-First band rendered a program of music on Saturday night, and Lomas’ orchestra will play each afternoon and evening. The salesmen and exhibitors in each exhibit were in evening dress which gave the show a tone the ordinary exhibition of that nature usually does not have.”¹

The Spectator reporter made note about “the ladies” in attendance whom he wrote “displayed a keen interest in the various types of cars which were on exhibition”

“Naturally the majority of them expressed a wish to have one of the many electric coupes shown, while others told their escorts that one of the nifty little runabouts would answer their needs.”¹

The ladies of St. John Presbyterian raised funds for their church by setting up a tea room near the James Street entrance to the hall. Besides liquid refreshments, ‘dainties’ were also made available for those with sweet teeth.

It was felt that Hamilton was the most appropriate location for such an auto exhibition :

“Dealers from all parts of the province will gather here. Hamilton is well-situated for such an event, for with its splendid electric and steam road connections, people from all parts of the Niagara peninsula can attend with little trouble.”

It was expected that 1914 would be a banner year for automobile sales, with the Hamilton dealers predicting that despite the increase in number of dealerships, there still would be twice as many cars sold at each business that had been in business in 1913.

As the 1914 car show began in March 1914, it was estimated that there were 1,000 cars on Hamilton streets, meaning that of a people around one million, there was one automobile for every 100 persons.

1914-02-18

“While making a run to a small fire in a shed owned by the Ottawa Contracting company, at the foot of John street, shortly after 10 o’clock this morning, Chief TenEyck’s auto struck a cutter in which Mrs. R. A. Lucas, 63 Duke street, was seated, upsetting the cutter, and hurling Mrs. Lucas and her coachman to the street.”

          Hamilton Spectator. February 18, 1914

          While more and more automobiles were appearing on Hamilton streets in 1914, the roadways were still used heavily by horse-drawn vehicles.

In the winter months, many Hamilton automobile owners chose to take their cars off the roads and store them on blocks until spring. The use of horse-drawn cutters was still very common in 1914, especially in the coldest part of the winter when the streets were frozen.

The Hamilton Fire Chief, Arthur TenEyck, still used an automobile in the winter months so that he could get to the scene of a fire as quickly as possible.

On Wednesday February 18, 1914, an alarm came in from an industrial building near the waterfront at the foot of John street North. The fire chief, stationed at the John street Central Fire Station, was in an auto immediately heading towards the call. The chief was not at the wheel, that task being in the hands of his driver.

In the vicinity of John Street North and Robert street, a collision between the chief’s auto and a cutter occurred.

In speaking to a Spectator reporter, the chief claimed that his car was travelling at about 20 miles per hour, then explained what happened from his perspective:

“Had we been going at full speed, the results would no doubt have been very serious. As it was, it was bad enough, and I regret it very much. The accident was unavoidable, however, and everything possible to avoid the collision was done.

“Near Robert street, we observed two cutters ahead of us. One was in the center of the road and the other slightly to the east. We turned to pass just as the rig in which Mrs. Lucas was seated passed west on Robert street. We were so close that it was impossible to stop, and not being able to turn on the left because of the other cutter, we whirled to the east, our fender striking the rear of the cutter, upsetting it and throwing Mrs. Lucas and her coachman to the street, the automobile then crossed the street, breaking an axle and the fender and completely putting it out of business.

“I rushed to Mrs. Lucas at once, and picking her up, placed her in the other cutter which was following closely. Dr. Hopkins happened to be passing and he accompanied Mrs. Lucas to his office where it was found she was suffering from a bad cut in the forehead, but fortunately was not otherwise seriously injured, except for the bad shaking she received. The coachman was not injured.”¹

¹ “Auto Wrecked Speeding to Small Blaze : Fire Chief’s Car Crashed Into Tree on John Street : Vehicle Upset and Mrs. R. A. Lucas Was Injured”  

Hamilton Spectator. February 18, 1914

Mrs. Lucas would be taken to the City Hospital on Barton street where she was further examined and put into a bed for a brief recovery before being taken home.

The fire, to which the chief was headed turned out to be fairly minor, caused by a gasoline explosion which had ignited a shed. The fire was quickly extinguished, the company loss estimated at about $500.

1914-03-10

“Two important resolutions were adopted at an open meeting of the Center Mount Improvement club last evening.”

Hamilton Spectator March 10, 1914

In 1914, the number of people living on the mountain, both within the city limits and also in the bordering lands of Barton township, was increasing rapidly. New housing surveys were being opened up and demands for improved city services were constant.

The citizen organization known as the Center Mount Improvement held a meeting on March 11, 1914 at which it was unanimously decided that two initiatives would help to organize affairs in that section of the community.

One of those resolutions passed would have long term ramifications while the other did not.

The first resolution concerned the name given to the area, including the section within the city limits (basically Concession street north to the mountain brow) plus those areas of Barton Township south of Concession where former farm lands were being subdivide into building lots.

As recounted in the words of the Spectator reporter in attendance at the meeting :

“In view of the possibilities of the district growing until it will sometime form an important part of the city, some definite name should be decided on, and after several had been suggested, the one selected was Upper Hamilton. That will take in the entire district from the asylum to Ottawa street.”¹

¹ “Upper Hamilton : New Name Selected By Mountaineers for Hill Top District”

Hamilton Spectator. March 10, 1914.

It was felt that a common name for the whole district above the escarpment would at minimum help residents receive more dependable main delivery.

The motion next passed would also, if approved,  have an immediate impact on the addresses of mountain residents, as it recommended a change in the names of streets in the area:

“The second resolution affects the mountaineers just as much, if not more so than the first, inasmuch that all the street names are to be dropped entirely and numbers used instead, such as 13^th street and 14^th avenue.

“According to the suggestions offered at the meeting, and which will be recommended to the township council, which has the power to make the changes.

“Those thoroughfares running east and west will be known as streets, while those running north and south will be avenues.”¹

While they were just two suggestions, it would ultimately be the council of Barton township to agree to the resolutions as a whole or tinker with them.

The first resolution was not accepted, while the second was adopted with some tweaking.

1914-02-21

“The body of Robert Hannah, the well-known wholesale butcher, was found this morning about 7 o’clock on the Caledonia road, about two miles south of the Mountain View hotel.”

                              Hamilton Spectator. February 21, 1914.

          The road heading southward from the head of the James street incline towards Caledonia was heavily travelled, particularly on days when the market was held in downtown Hamilton.

          For those on that road, passing by the lime ridge, early in the morning of February 21, 1914, it was an unfortunate experience to come upon the body of Hannah:

          “His legs were in the cutter and his head was within a few inches of a gate post, against which he had evidently been hurled from his cutter. A buffalo robe, which was in the cutter, almost concealed the body, and several butchers and farmers drove past it without noticing it.”¹

¹ “Met Tragic Death on the Caledonia Road : Well-Known Market Butcher Found Frozen : Probably Hurled Out of Cutter on Way Home”

          Hamilton Spectator. February 21, 1914

          How Hannah met his death would remain a mystery as the area where the body was found relatively remote in 1914. It was thought that it was not an accident but it was probably a health-related matter:

          “For some time, Hannah had been subject to severe attacks of heart failure, and it is of the opinion of the butchers who had known him for years that he was seized with heart failure and was probably dead before the cutter swung against the gate post. His eyes and face were clotted with blood when he was found, and Thomas J. Hines, a butcher, who had stood on the central market with him for years, did not recognize.”¹

               When found Hannah’s body was completely frozen, and it was thought that he had died about 8 hours before found.

          As soon as the police were informed of the discovery of Hannah’s body, Coroner McNichol ordered an inquest and a jury was quickly assembled to view the remains after they had been transported to the city morgue.

          The police made a thorough investigation and concluded that there had been no foul play involved with Hannah’s death, particularly as his personal effects had not been taken. The rumour that the horse-drawn cutter had been struck by an automobile was declared to be unfounded.

The police investigator noted that tracks on the road indicated that the cutter had been veering from one side to the other, and it had then gone off the road, striking a fence. Hannah had then been thrown from the cutter. The police were convinced that the horse pulling the cutter had started to run away after Hannah’s had suffered heart seizure.

          Ironically, Robert Hannah met his death at the gate of the home where he had spent his boyhood days. He had been raised in the house just a short distance from where he had died.  

          Robert Hannah was survived by his wife, a son and a daughter.