1918-11-07dd

It was news that had been longed for since the summer of 1914. After four bitter, nightmarish years of warfare, it was announced that the world-wide conflict was over.

A large number of Hamiltonians felt that November 7, 1918 would long be remembered as the day that peace had be declared. Mass celebrations broke out spontaneously all over the city.

The Herald reported its afternoon edition the following :

“The news that Germany had surrendered and that peace had come caused a tremendous sensation in the city about noon today. The report seemed like an electric spark that touched the entire city.

“Within a few minutes after the first unofficial word came, the Herald office telephones began to ring as though every person in the city had heard the glad tidings. Never on any occasion did new spread so fast, and never were so many enquiries made in so brief a time

“As soon as the announcement was bulletined in the Herald windows, auto horns began to toot and everything that would make a noise was put into operation.

“An incident in the Herald office about 1 o’clock, typified the general feeling.

“An excited lady entered the editorial room.

“‘Is it true the war is over?’ she asked.

“She was informed that there was a rumor to that effect.

“ ‘Thank God!’ she exclaimed. ‘I have a son over there. Oh, it’s good to know that I shall see them again. I’ve prayed for nine months that this war would end, and that God would spare him. Thank God.’ ”¹

¹ “How Hamilton Cut Loose : Big Celebration When Rumored End of the War Was Announced.”

Hamilton Herald.   November 7, 1918.

Shortly after 1:30 p.m., the Herald issued a special edition of the paper repeating the end of war rumor. An impromptu procession was formed. Headed by a band playing stirring patriotic airs, the parade proceeded through the downtown streets.

The operators of the Bell Telephone Company were overwhelmed, so much so that a manger with the company sought out the Herald to make an explanation to the phone company’s subscribers :

“He stated that shortly after the first report of peace, the office was inundated with calls, and never in the history of the local office were the operators so rushed.

“ ‘We simply could not answer all calls,’ he said. ‘I never knew anything like it. This explanation is due our subscribers, and we think they will understand the situation and excuse what might have seemed poor service.’”¹

That special afternoon of the Herald contained the following editorial:

“Shortly after noon today, a ‘flash’ came that the terms of the armistice had been accepted by the German military commission, that the armistice had been signed, and that hostilities would cease at 2 p.m.

“This report has not been officially confirmed up to the time of writing – 1:30 p.m. It may not be true; but if not true, we believe it is only anticipatory of the truth. Germany is not in a condition to prolong resistance. If peace has not already come, it is near.”²

² “Peace?”

Hamilton Herald.  November 7, 1918.

The next day, the Herald contained the following description of the celebrations that the “news’ of peace had provoked:

“Hamilton has had some great  celebrations in the past, but never was there an outburst such as that of yesterday, when it was falsely reported that an armistice had been signed with Germany. The news, like fire in the heather, spread over the city almost instantly, and great crowds assembled in the center of the city and let loose the feelings that had been suppressed during four years of war and all its horrors.

“All Hamilton joined in one shout of joy. Indeed, the huge crowd seemed almost delirious. Statements that the news was not confirmed, as published by the Herald, were disregarded. The people would not believe them. Huge as were the crowds in the afternoon, they were small compared with those on the streets at night, and the din they made would ‘deave the miller.’

“Parades were formed in all places and made for the central streets, which were carpeted with paper and confetti, all mashed to a paste in the muck that was caused by the light rain.

“Conspicuous in the parade was a float representing the Spectator. That paper announced in the afternoon that the news was official, and the United Press Service, which furnished the false information to it, boasted of its great ‘scoop’ over its rival, the reliable Associated Press.” ³

³  Spectator ‘Scoop’ Proved to Be Hoax : Its Boastful Announcement That It Was Officially Reported That Armistice Had Been Signed Turned Out to Be False : A.P. Service To Be Relied On : Herald Published Official Denials of Report, and In Its Windows Bulletined All the Real News After Press Time.”

Hamilton Herald.  November 8, 1918.

The Herald maintained that it had not claimed that the war was over:

“”The Associated Press dispatches, published in the Herald, announced definitely that the armistice had not been signed, but people were so delirious with joy that they had no thought of reading carefully what was published in these dispatches and bulletined in the Herald office windows till ate in the evening.

“Then some began to reflect, and realized that the United Press’ great ‘scoop’ was a cruel hoax, and they did not hesitate to say it. Many went disappointed away from the Herald office to their homes.”³

While the Herald did acknowledge that the Spectator’s source of the ‘scoop’ was an inaccurate dispatch originating in the office of the United Press service, it was less forgiving about subsequent actions taken by the Spectator:

“The Spectator’s float in the procession, in spite of the denials by the Associated Press, continued to spread the false report all night. A large painted streamer on either side of it read : ‘Peace News Was Spectator Scoop.’

“As the evening wore on, hundreds of people, both through the Herald office telephones and its bulletins, were made aware of the facts, and the greatest jubilation ever known here pretty well died out by 11 o’clock.”³

Although the celebrations that had occurred throughout the afternoon and evening had been initiated by faulty information, they were nonetheless very memorable:

“When the bells and whistles throughout the city joined in the peace announcement, a foreigner who was engaged in some excavating work at the Steel Company of Canada works, thinking that the big noise was part of the Victory Loan campaign, turned to some fellow workmen, remarking : ‘That’s all right, I buy Victory bond. Me no stop work.’ A few minutes later it was announced that the bells and whistles were announcing the conclusion of the war. The foreigner immediately threw down his shovel, tossed his cap high in the air, and with a cry of joy rushed away in the direction of his home, shouting ‘the war is over,’ and up to this morning had not returned to his job.

“To add to the pleasure of many merry makers, yesterday afternoon, Tasker’s contributed about eight dozen hats, of the 1780 vintage, to the large numbers who had gathered in front of the Herald office and his store, located directly opposite. The donation caused many laughs and much pleasure to the pleasure-hungry crowds.

“A couple of returned soldiers complained to the proprietor of a North James street fruit store because he continued to keep his place of business open, while the big jubilee was in progress yesterday afternoon. An argument followed, which resulted in a free-for-all fight and the smashing of the fruit store window.

Hamilton’s hive of industry, which has been preparing munitions of war, as well as all her other busy places, poured their thousands forth on the streets yesterday afternoon, when the unofficial announcement  of the truce was announced and swarmed all afternoon along the public places, giving full vent to the emotion they had suppressed all through the war.

“Employees from all the large companies turned out in force, and bearing flags, tin horns and confetti immediately proceeded to the center of the city. One parade met another until King and James streets presented a scene unprecedented in the city’s history. Passing automobiles were speedily loaded down with young lads, all returned soldiers who were enjoying the news were invited to ride, and from noon until eve the crowds passed and repassed with a never slackening in the enthusiasm, even when later bulletins did not vouch for the truth of the armistice. ”³

The corner of King and James streets was a focus for the celebrations, and the Herald office was on King street, only a short distance west of the James street intersection:

“That nothing should be missing in the celebration, the band of the 91^st Highlanders, headed by Lieut. Harry Stares, appeared on the scene and played patriotic music outside the Herald’s windows. The crowd, with the exception of a few foreigners, who evidently did not join in the celebration, uncovered their heads and sang ‘O Canada’ and the ‘Maple Leaf Forever’ followed, which were sung on mass by several thousand people. A returned soldier led the singing of ‘Blighty.’

“The street cars ran spasmodically. The traffic regulation most of the afternoon was demoralized. The crowd was orderly, though enthusiastic, and there were no unpleasant occurrences.”³

The afternoon celebrations were spontaneous and free-flowing, but by the time evening had arrived things were more organized:

“The notice that a parade would be held, starting from the Market Square at 7 o’clock, had all Hamilton moving in that direction before that hour. The central streets were filled from curb to curb with traffic, afoot and awheel, and the night’s doings commenced at once.

“Special traffic officers were appointed by Chief Whatley to direct the movements of the vehicles and the marching crowds, and out of seeming disorder preserved order. They could not, however, keep open the street railway lines in the center of the city.

“There were bands of all kinds, but principally those composed of tin pans beaten with sticks. The bands of the 91^st Highlanders and the 13^th Royal regiment turned out. The 91^st band mounted a stand in Gore park, and played patriotic airs under the direction of H. A. Stares, who also led the community singing in which the thousands there joined with vigor.

“A number of attractively decorated autos were in the great parade, and the streets were ablaze with bright-hued flags of all the allied nations. Fireworks added to the brilliance of the scene, as thousands of rockets and Roman candles flashed into the night.

“The crowd was all good-humored. There was a good deal of pushing and jostling, but it was under the spirit of joy. Some young men thoughtlessly produced ticklers and pushed them into the faces of the crowd, heedless of the danger they ran of spreading influenza among the people. The police were on the alert for these germ carriers and took a number from those who carried them.

“ A German woman of considerable proportions came very near to creating a riot while the big parade was in progress last night. The woman took up a prominent position near the corner of King and Macnab streets, as the parade passed she shook her fists at the occupants of the floats, at the same time calling them ‘dirty English.’ A couple of women who were standing near the Kaiser admirer grabbed her, and before the angry German woman was released from her captors, she was missing several hanks of hair. The last seen of the German woman  she was beating it toward the mountain closely followed by a crowd of boys who were hooting and jeering her.”³

Although when Hamiltonians settled down after the afternoon and evening celebrations and realized that the war was, sadly still in progress, there was still a feeling of thankful anticipation that the end was near.