“Military
enthusiasm ran high last evening at the parade of the 13th regiment
together with the overseas contingent. The main streets were lined throughout
the entire route of the march while the armories were crowded.”
Hamilton Spectator. August
22, 1914.
The sight of the local militia unit,
the 13th regiment, on parade on Hamilton streets was not unusual,
but the parade on Friday August 21, 1914 attracted much more than the usual
interest.
Earlier in the day, the members of the
13th, 91st and Engineers’ contingent who had volunteered
to go to the front, were awaiting orders to move on to Valcartier, Quebec, the
last stop in Canada before heading across the Atlantic :
“Shortly after 2 o’clock there came a
telephone message from Toronto to the commanding officers ordering the movement
of the local troops.
“The word flashed
through the armories, and then the cheering began. The men had been awaiting
the order every day since Tuesday, and an air of feverish activity was
heightened in the ranks.
“The balance of the
afternoon was spent in getting the necessary things together, to be followed by
the parade last evening, when the 13th and 91st were on
the floor of the armories watched by an admiring and enthusiastic crowd.”1
1 “Cheer
Wildly for Fighting Boys of 13th : Remarkable Scene of Enthusiasm
Attends Parade : Engineering Corps Left Today for Valcartier : Men Welcome
Opportunity to Get to the Front.”
Hamilton Spectator.
August 22, 1914.
The already-scheduled evening parade of the 13th
regiment was to go ahead as planned, but there was a heightened desire by
members of the public to watch it. As soon as word spread throughout the city
that many in the parade would be leaving for the front the next day, the
sidewalks in the city core were packed with citizens.
The parade included
644 soldiers, a record turnout:
“With the two bands
and the overseas contingent leading, the regiment marched out. Cheer after
cheer went up as the soldiers marched briskly up the street. The soldiers with
the overseas contingent were unarmed, while the regiment carried rifles.”1
After completing the
usual route through the downtown streets, the soldiers on parade returned to
the armories on James street north:
“The regiment was
lined up and Lieut-Col. Ross took occasion to address the members of the
contingent. He said he was greatly pleased with the caliber and appearance of
the men who were going to the front. He adjured them to do their best in the
training camp at Valcartier. He hoped they would soon get to the front and
acquit themselves as their friends and relatives looked for them to do. Wishing
them Godspeed and a safe return to their homes, he called for three cheers by
the regiment for the contingent. They were given with tremendous enthusiasm.
The band followed with the playing of Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot.”1
The soldiers were
then dismissed.
The soldiers of the
contingent to depart on Saturday August 22, 1914 left in two separate segments.
Members of the first
field troop of Canadian Field Engineers moved out of the armories at 7:50 a.m.,
and marched north on James street, then west on Stuart Street to the Grand
Trunk Railway station:
“There were 40
stalwart young men in bright red tunics. As usual, a large crowd was present at
the armories when they left and they were followed to the station and cheered
to the echo as the train pulled out.”1
Later in the morning,
the majority of the soldiers, those with the 13th and 91st
regiments were scheduled to leave the city from the T.H.&B. station on
Hunter street east.
Not long after the
field engineers had marched out of the armories, some of the men who were to
leave later started to gather there:
“The men had been
ordered to parade early and some of them were on hand before eight o’clock. For
once, rules were set aside, and the general public was admitted to the armories
to say goodbye to the men going away. It was an animated scene. Around nearly
every volunteer was a little group of relatives or friends wishing him Godspeed
and cautioning him to take care of himself.
“In one corner of the
armories, a little game of indoor baseball was in progress and down in the far
end of the building, there was an admiring crowd of soldiers around a man with
a harmonica singing There’s a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea. This formed the
burden of the whole song, and no less than eighty-eight stanzas were sung by
actual count, everyone the same.
“The men were not
only in good spirits themselves, but sought to keep the others about them in
good spirits also. One might also think they were about to start off on a
little holiday jaunt.”2
2 “Memorable
Scenes AS Tommy Atkins Leaves : Cheering Crowds and Martial Music Marked the
Departure : Local Military Troops Are Speeding to Valcartier Camp.”
Hamilton Spectator
August 22, 1914
Finally assembly was
sounded, the signal that everyone but the military had to vacate the armories.
Visitors exchanged hurried goodbyes, and the soldiers then fell into company
formations for the roll call.
Then the 13th band
moved into position to lead the procession. However before that happened,
Lieutenant-Colonel called attention and introduced Hamilton Mayor Allan who
addressed the men of the 13th regiment:
“He was glad, he
said, to see such a splendid body of men going to the front for the honor of
the empire, and representing Hamilton, in the overseas contingent. He called upon them to stand true to their
flag and King and acquit themselves like the men they would soon have the
opportunity of proving themselves to be. Cheers followed the remarks of his worship.”2
Just before the 13th
regiment was to leave, a bugle call sounded calling members of the 91st
regiment to fall in :
“Attired in full
marching order, minus their rifles which will be issued on their arrival at
Valcartier, the 91st presented a splendid picture. The Tartan caps
were all proclaimed the company as being the Scotch regiment of the city.
“Mayor Allan
addressed the members of this company in a similar strain as he did to the 13th,
and cheers followed.”2
Then the big parade
began. With the 13th band playing O Canada, the procession marched out of the armories:
“Immediately behind
the band marched the officers of the 13th regiment, most of them in
civilian dress. Then came the men in khaki. They were without rifles, and
carried only bandoliers, blanket rolls and canteens.
“Oddly enough, the
crowds lining both sides of the street kept strangely silent for the most part.
It was not until the men reached the city hall, where there was an immense
crowd of people massed on the steps, that a cheer went up. And then how those
people did cheer!
“After that, the
parade up the rest of the way on James street was in the nature of a triumphal
procession. The men were stepping out smartly to the strains of The Killigan
Slashes, and every window and doorstep held its quota of cheering and waving
enthusiasm.”2
The scene at the T.H.
& B. station, as the procession arrived, was wildly chaotic. The police
were overwhelmed trying to hold back the crowds:
“For a few moments,
the police tried to hold back the crowds, but they might as well have tried to
hold back a raging torrent. The men of the 23rd howitzers rendered
far more effective service in keeping the crowds back and in clearing the track
for the track.” 2
When the 91st
regimental band arrived, despite the difficulty of getting in position, managed
to keep playing. The strains of Rule Britannia and the British Grenadiers
filled the air as everyone awaited the arrival of the train.
Rule Britannia was
especially stirring for those present:
“This intensely patriotic
air was soon taken up by the thousands who had crowded the station, and it was
of the volume of a mighty chorus.
“A mighty cheer
followed the conclusion of this number. The pipe band then started up with a
lively Scotch air, and the crowds gathered quickly to the spot where the skirl
of the pipes sounded.”2
The unnamed Spectator
reporter captured the last few minutes wonderfully as the final time for
farewells arrived :
“Hamilton citizens
were realizing for the first time the seriousness of the tide of war which had
been loosened upon the continent. Though the unmistakable signs of farewell
were everywhere evidenced, the men going away made an attempt to make the scene
as cheerful as possible. The bands kept playing for close to half an hour
before the train came in.
“When it came time for
the men to entrain, there was a marked silence and much wiping of eyes. The
only instructions of the officers were to keep the men inside the cars once
they were aboard.
“Men and women whose
sons were going away to the front were frankly wiping their eyes. One of the
most touching parts of the farewell was the large number of small children who
had gathered to catch a last glimpse of their older brothers.
“In one group stood a
bride and mother together.
“ ‘You’ll come back,
safe, Jack?’ whispered the wife. Jack nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“ ‘Get aboard there!’
sang out an officer.
“A hurried embrace of
mother and wife and the young soldier was on the platform of the slowly moving
train. The mother put her arm about the younger woman, and when the last car
had disappeared, they walked away together.”2
Thousands of eyes
watched the departing train as it entered the tunnel and then was out of sight
completely.
There was a pause as
the remaining friends, family and supporters of the departing troops realized
that there was no more to do or be said. Slowly the huge crowd dispersed,
heading south, north, east and west to homes in various parts of the city. A
sense of foreboding for the future of their loved ones was palpable in the air.
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