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