Sunday, 25 February 2018

"A national victory": The OAC triumphs in stock judging, 1907

A cold but ebullient crowd of students presses around the Blacksmith Fountain in St. George's Square. Two of their number stand atop the fountain, handling the Blacksmith while the rest cheer them on. Bystanders gather around the margins of the Square, taking in the spectacle. A placard held by the students reads "National Victory". A spectator on the second floor of the Bank of Commerce, on the east side of the Square, grabs a nearby camera and takes a snap. This great day for the Ontario Agricultural College (OAC), Guelph and, apparently, Canada, is duly immortalized.

Later, the photo was turned into a postcard featuring the caption "O.A.C. National Victory Celebration." It can still be seen today, courtesy of the John Keleher collection:

This photo appears to capture a moment in celebrations of the OAC's third victory in competition for the Spoor Trophy, a prize awarded for achievement in stock judging. John A. Spoor was an American business man with particular interest in the livestock trade. In 1900, he became President of the International Livestock Exposition in Chicago and instituted a livestock judging competition for agricultural students. At the end of November, students from around North America converged on the Chicago exhibition to show their judging chops.

Spoor commissioned a bronze trophy for the occasion, in the form of a large bull. The OAC took an interest in the competition and began to send teams of students to take part.

The OAC offered a variety of degree programs focussed on agriculture. Students who majored in the Agriculture Option studied a number of subjects including Animal Husbandry. This included study of the principle breeds of cattle, sheep, pigs, and horses and their preferred characteristics, along with practical work in judging these on inspection. The point of this study was to enable students to continue improvements to animal breeds that they might raise on their own farms. Improvement could be measured in the financial returns that farmers realized from their stock (OAC Review, v. 25, no. 9, pp. 431–433):

... every breeder, if he expects to accomplish results as an improver of his live stock, must know the conformation consistent with each animal's utility and the type which will yield him the largest returns.
The utility of an animal depended crucially on the condition of its tissues and internal organs. These could not be viewed directly in a live animal, so the trick for students was to learn to judge these matters from an external inspection.

At the Guelph campus, judging practice often took place in the Judging Pavilion, now known appropriately as the Bullring, and shown in the Valentine & Sons postcard, ca. 1905, below:

In their Senior year, the best students in the Agriculture Option were selected and trained for the competition. At the appointed time, similar teams from agricultural colleges across North America would converge on Chicago for the ultimate test of their mettle. The contest is described in detail in the OAC Review (1910, v. 23, n. 2, pp. 67–68):
On the day of the contest they meet in the great arena and are divided into four sections. Four different classes of live stock are brought in the ring and a section goes to each class and has eighteen minutes to place the animals and write notes. After the eighteen minutes they are moved to another class of stock and twice again, until the four rings are judged. Then the boys are marshalled in four sections and take turns in going before the judges. There are four sets of judges, one set for each class of live stock. Each boy has from one to two minutes to state his reasons for his placing of the class. After giving his reasons he retires to his section and remains until all have given reasons, then the section moves along to a second set of judges, and so twice more until reasons are given on the four classes of stock. This completes one-third of the work. Again four classes of stock are brought in and the same course pursued, and yet once more. Owing to tedious delays, the contest is not usually over until ten p.m. The boys come out from giving their last reasons a wearied, jaded crowd, despondent if they discover many mistakes in placings, awfully weary, but knowing that another contest would find them better prepared in every way.
In a nutshell, each student is rated according to how well his judgment accords with that of the experts. The Spoor Trophy went to the team with the best overall score in the various categories.

Student teams from the OAC won the trophy in 1905 and 1906, so the 1907 team went south with great expectations, and their efforts were crowned with success! Because the 1907 victory was the College's third in a row, it was judged not merely a victory for the institution but for the whole nation. The Toronto Globe proclaimed, "No international prize ever brought to Canada was better won or more beneficently significant than this trophy" (Mercury, 4 Dec 1907).

The OAC Review (Jan 1908, v. 20, n. 4, pp. 179–183) contained photos of the winning teams, the Spoor Trophy, and a breathless account of the victory celebrations. Here is the winning team:

As the leading man in training the team, Professor Day gets the special, central and rectangular treatment.

Then there is the trophy itself:

This fine specimen was created by August Nicolas Cain, a French sculptor known for his portrayals of animals in bronze.

Then there is the hometown celebration, leading up to the event in St. George's Square, as related by the OAC Review:

Monday, December 2nd, 1907, will long be remembered in the annals of the college as the day on which we concentrated all the means at our disposal to celebrate the great national victory gained by our stock-judging team at Chicago. As President Creelman had granted us a half-holiday, accordingly about 2 p.m., the students, over two hundred strong, assembled in front of the dormitory. The bronze bull, mounted on a wagon decorated with red and blue, headed the procession, and with flags, pennons and streamers flying, with horns blowing and college yells filling the air, this truly great demonstration of patriotic spirit and enthusiasm filed down the college hill. Accompanied by a number of Macdonald girls in a carryall, we arrived in the city, and proceeded to make things lively. The residences of some of the various professors were visited, and the usual cheers given. The procession, then headed by J. Hugo Reed on horseback, marched back to St. George's Square and surrounded the statue while two of the students gave it a much-needed protection against the weather in the form of a liberal application of red and blue paint.
Red and blue were the College colors.

Of course, this treatment of the poor Blacksmith is reminiscent of the current practice of University of Guelph students who occasionally paint the cannon Old Jeremiah on campus today. This observation invites the question: Why didn't the OAC students paint something on campus—even Old Jeremiah itself, which sat on Johnston Green—instead of the Blacksmith in the middle of town?

I suspect that the answer is that this "national victory" called for a more prominent, public acknowledgment. Since the Blacksmith Fountain sat in the centre of Guelph, in the midst of its main thoroughfare, it was the most "national" of objects available for decorative commemoration.

This idea is confirmed by subsequent events. After the students finished with the Blacksmith, they repaired to the City Hall (now the "Old City Hall") to receive congratulations from every available public official. The students were eulogized by Mayor Newstead, M.P.P. J.P. Downey, and M.P. Hugh Guthrie. Even Police Chief Randall was roped into making a congratulatory speech. (Did he know his audience had just painted a public monument?) The Mercury (3 Dec 1907) describes the scene):

The boys in the burlesque costumes lined up on either side of the steps and gave vent to their feelings at each appreciative sally of the speakers in cheers loud and continuous. They rallied round the bull and each speaker was given three hearty cheers led by the man on the wagon.
It also records Hugh Guthrie's affirmation of the significance of their achievement:
"The judging team of the Ontario Agricultural College are a credit not only to the Institution they represent, the city of Guelph, and the Province of Ontario, but to the whole Dominion of Canada."
Glowing with this lavish praise, the crowd carried on back up Wyndham Street to the Kandy Kitchen, where they gorged themselves on treats. Then, sated and elated, they dragged themselves and their trophy back to campus perhaps for more merriment.

According to the rules of the competition, any institution that won a trophy three times in a row got to "retire" it. Accordingly, the OAC kept theirs. (Since Iowa State won the first trophy in 1901, 1902, and 1903, that version remains there.) Evidently, the trophy remains with the OAC even today.

So, we have both the trophy and the postcard to remind us of the time when, in the stockyards of Chicago, the OAC won a great victory for themselves, for Guelph, Ontario, and for their grateful nation. Perhaps the Blacksmith also remembers the event but maybe not so fondly.

Identification of this postcard with the OAC celebration on 2 Dec 1907 rests on three points:
  1. Real-photo postcards of this type became popular locally around 1905, so the image is not earlier than that year. Also, the octagonal garden around the Blacksmith Fountain was changed to a long oval in the summer of 1908, in preparation for Old Home Week that year. So, the image is not later than that year.
  2. The scene in the image matches descriptions of the celebration. It occurs in winter, involves a large crowd focussed on the Blacksmith Fountain, two of whom are handling the Blacksmith itself in a way that is consistent with painting.
  3. The OAC Review describes the 1907 win in particular as a "national victory", probably because it brought permanent possession of the Spoor Trophy to the OAC. The congratulations offered to students by Guelph's dignitaries confirms this signification. This gibes with expression "national victory" as found on a placard in the photo as well as the postcard's caption itself.
Maybe students from the OAC could be persuaded to re-stage the celebration someday, just for old-time's sake, minus the paint, of course.

Sunday, 28 January 2018

Trade cards and postcards: Selling Wm. Bell's pianos

Imagine that you are going with your family to buy a piano in late Victorian Guelph. Having looked at the different makes and models, you have settled on a Bell Piano, a quality instrument made right here in the Royal City at the Bell Organ and Piano factory on Macdonnell Street! The whole family troops excitedly to Chas. W. Kelly & Son's music store at 33 Wyndham Street (current home to City Pawnbrokers), the local sales agent for Bell.

In the store, the final decision is confirmed as everyone gathers around the piano soon to join you in the parlor of your handsome abode. Having made the financial and delivery arrangements, Charles Kelly smiles and hands you your copy of the bill of sale and, as a bonus, some trade cards. The cards have an intriguing, colored picture on one side and a drawing of the nearby Bell factory on the other. The children want the cards for their collections! Alright, but only in exchange for practicing on the piano every day! A deal is struck.

Picture postcards have long been used as advertisements for businesses. Before the advent of the picture postcard, many businesses used "trade cards" for this purpose instead. A trade card is typically a small card made out of heavy paper that combines pictures and text for the purpose of promoting a business. Trade cards originated in the 18th century in western Europe and spread to North America with the colonists (Hubbard 2012).

When picture postcards appeared in Canada in the Edwardian era, most businesses made the switch from trade cards to advertising postcards, that is, postcards that combined promotional text and pictures.

In Guelph, one of the most prolific users of trade cards was the Bell Organ and Piano Co. I have traced the history of the Company and its clock tower in a previous posting. It was founded in 1864 by William Bell and his brother Robert but soon taken over by William himself. It became quite successful, reaching its zenith in the 1880s when the new factory and clock tower were built. At the time, the company billed itself as the biggest producer of organs in the British Empire.

It was around this time that advertising cards for the Company seem to have begun to circulate. Here is an example, which is typical for American trade cards of its era:

The picture shows both the front and back. The front features a generic picture of a girl with a dolly and a basket. Space is left front and back for text that describes the business using the card.

Curiously, as the alert reader may have noticed, nowhere is there an organ or piano in sight. In fact, no trade card that I have seen for the Bell Organ and Piano Co. features a musical instrument. It was typical for instrument makers to feature instruments in their trade cards, as the Boston Public Library's gallery on Flickr demonstrates. So, the Bell Co. must have had a particular reason for not following convention, though it can only be guessed at. My own suspicion is that Bell was more concerned to show off the international reach of his business and its fit within the well-to-do lifestyle of his era. In the card above, the text emphasizes Bell organs and pianos as the "standard instruments of the world." Modern advertising psychologist Robert Cialdini calls this approach "social proof," where the implicit approval of others for a product is displayed as an inducement for the viewer to approve of the product as well. After all, if people around the world like Bell pianos, so will you!

The picture of a young girl might remind viewers of the duty of upwardly-mobile parents to ensure that their daughters have all the customary feminine accomplishments, such as being able to play and sing at the piano.

Another Bell trade card shows an even higher degree of specialization.

The front shows a colored drawing of an "Ice Palace" framed by a patriotic maple leaf and a shield identifying the advertiser. The back shows an impressive drawing of the Bell Organ and Piano factories on Carden Street, the smoke of industry belching forth from their chimneys.

The "Ice Palace" is a building made of ice for the Montreal Winter Carnival of 1883, which handily dates the trade card to the mid 1880s. The structure was made with 500 lb. blocks of ice cut from the St. Lawrence and assembled in what was then called Dominion Square.

Here is a photo of the 1883 palace, taken by noted Montreal photographer William Notman & Son:

(Courtesy of the McCord Museum, Montreal.)

Ice palaces of larger and more elaborate design were constructed for the Carnival through 1889. The Ice Palace exemplified the kind of thing that a well-to-do Canadian might travel to see as a winter tourist.

Other trade cards of the same design displayed different items of interest to well-heeled Canadians. Here are the fronts of two more (the backs are the same as above):

The top card shows an image of Niagara Falls, still a premiere regional tourist attraction today. The bottom shows a picture of the S.S. Parisian, which first sailed in 1881 on the north Atlantic route. As the drawing shows, the Parisian was a hybrid ship, propelled mainly by steam engine but also equipped with masts and sails, just in case. Today, the Parisan is best remembered as one of the ships that responded to the distress signals of the Titanic in 1912. She did not find any survivors.

As with the first one, these trade cards evoke not musical instruments as such but rather the lifestyle of the potential customers of the Bell Organ and Piano Co. The Company has its quarters in an impressive, world-class facility in Guelph, with offices throughout the province. Its products comport well with the lifestyle of upwardly-mobile Canadians who might hop on a train to Niagara Falls, Montreal, or even to take ship to the Old Country.

The variety of pictures also reflects an awareness of how trade cards of the era circulated. They were given out to customers who expressed an interest in a company's products and also with the products upon purchase. One reason was perhaps to look for repeat business. Another reason was that some people collected these cards or circulated them among family and friends. Having a variety of cards on offer might result in a broader interest in the cards and, thus, more market exposure for the Company and its offerings.

Around the same time that Bell Organ and Piano Co. started circulating these trade cards, changes began to take place in the postcard market. Previously, postcards had no illustrations; regulations stipulated that a message should appear on one side and an address on the other. (See a German example in this posting about F.C. Harrison of the O.A.C.) Yet, advances in printing technologies allowed for the inclusion of small illustrations on inexpensive cards.

Some European makers began to include small illustrations that left sufficient space for messages or addresses. Postcards featuring illustrations on the address side of the card became popular souvenirs at the World's Columbian Exhibition in Chicago in 1893. Postcards of this design were officially allowed under Canadian regulations in 1895. Businesses began to produce them for correspondence and advertising.

Ever sensitive to the latest advertising trends, Bell got in on the act. Below is a trade postcard printed for Bell and mailed to Mr. G.N. Ackerman of Norwood, Ontario, postmarked in Guelph on 8 April 1901.

Ever consistent, the card does not feature any musical instruments.

The card looks like a kind of hybrid. Like earlier trade cards, it features a picture of the Bell Organ and Piano Co. factories in Guelph as well as printed text lauding the Company. Like later postcards, it contains spaces expressly for an address and a message. Unlike later postcards, the illustration is a small one printed on the address side instead of on the opposite side, by itself.

Perhaps the most significant difference between this advertising postcard and previous trade cards was that this card could be sent through the mail just by sticking a stamp and address on it. Postcards rule!

Time moved on. The modern form of postcard found its way to Canada around 1904, where an image dominates one side while the other is divided into halves, one for an address and the other for a message. Because of this design, such cards are referred to as "divided back" among deltiologists, that is, people who study postcards.

Still keen on trade postcards, the Bell Organ and Piano Co. came out with a new set. It will not surprise you to learn that these cards do not feature organs, pianos, or other musical instruments. Instead, they feature images of young women, perhaps English actresses, whose job, it seems, is to confirm that to own a Bell piano would be a beautiful thing indeed. Here is one example:

The young lady sports a fashionable dress and broad "Merry Widow Hat," items made internationally popular by Guelph's own Lady Duff-Gordon. Perhaps this young woman should be viewed as a predecessor to the modern promotional model (or "booth babe").

This card is also the only Bell trade postcard that I know of that was actually postally used. The message reads:

from Luella Barrett // Dear Sister: I am well & hope you are the same. This girl on this card is called the Bell Princes [sic]
It is addressed to Miss Della Barrett, Natural Bridge, N.Y., Route 1 and was sent from Sydenham, Ontario (near Owen Sound). The message suggests that Luella had some experience with a Bell Co. representative. It may be that she got the card while shopping for a piano. Was she due to have music lessons?

Unfortunately, there are no later Bell Organ and Piano Co. trade postcards that I am aware of. The company was at its height in the 1880s, when its first trade cards appeared. It was sold to a British syndicate in 1888 but seems to have declined over the years. It was sold to a Brantford syndicate in 1928 but went bust in 1931, the Great Depression having administered the coup de grace.

Still, in the late Victorian era, the Bell Organ and Piano Co. was a world leader in production of those instruments. In addition to its wares, its advertising trade cards and postcards carried its name and the Royal City with it far and wide. Today, the persistence of the Company in advertising with these cards provides us with an interesting opportunity to see how they were used for commercial promotion at the dawn of the golden age of postcards.

Your piano arrives at last and it looks beautiful. The neighbors will be jealous!

Wednesday, 27 December 2017

Xmas at Summerhill, 1904

At Christmas time, it is fun to pick out a postcard with a seasonal message to investigate. This year's card conveys a scene from the campus of the Ontario Agricultural College, ca 1900. Specifically, it shows what is today known as Winegard's walk after William Winegard, the University of Guelph's second president.

(Courtesy of the John W. Keleher collection.)

In the right foreground is Day Hall (then the "Experimental building"), then, to the left of the tree, is the Gymnasium, the Chemistry Building, and the Main Building (all now demolished).

The postcard is of an early type in which the message goes on the front with the picture while the address alone goes on the back (called an "undivided back" card for that reason). The message on the front reads:

Many thanks for Xmas greetings. Wishing you a very happy new year. L.A.Y.
The addressee is Master Hyde Auld, “Summerhill”, Guelph. The card was printed by Warwick Bros. & Rutter and was postmarked on 29 Dec. 1904.

Summerhill was one of Guelph's houses grand enough to merit a special name. Summerhill was becoming quite well-known—even notorious—in the Royal City, so it could readily be used as an address, all by itself.

The history of Summerhill is well summarized in the booklet "Brooklyn and College Hill" (Guelph Arts Council, p. 11–12). It was built in 1840 by James Thompson at the centre of what was then a large estate. In 1865, it was rented to Colonel Thomas Saunders, Wellington County's first magistrate and an important local figure. He was soon to sell his large farm, "Woodlands," which later became Vimy Ridge Farm. He also figures in the Christmas post from 2015 as one of the founders of St. James church in Guelph.

Summerhill became notorious because of two of the Colonel's granddaughters who grew up there: Lucy and Elinor Sutherland. In 1860, their mother Elinor had married Douglas Sutherland, a British engineer who took her to India, South America, and then London, where the girls were born. In 1865, Douglas died of typhoid fever, prompting the widow to journey to Summerhill with her young family (Mercury, 20 July 1927).

Although shorn of its estate, Summerhill still stands at 25 Harcourt Drive and can be seen looking resplendent in the Google Street View picture below.

Even though the old laneway leading to Summerhill from Dundas Road (now Gordon Street) is now gone, the gates can still be seen halfway up College hill, on the west side of the street:

The family remained at Summerhill until 1871, when Elinor married Mr. David Kennedy and removed to his residence on Woolwich Street, next to the new St. George's Church and opposite the Court House (where the Wellington Catholic District School Board building now stands). The Mercury relates a scene from their childhood on the side of the Speed River (perhaps a recollection shared by the ladies during a later visit to town):

Here the children watched with great interest the building of the new St. George's Church, the old one being in St. George's Square, and here with one or two of their young cousins, the Saunders boys, they slid on boards through the basement [of the church], and climbed as far as possible the scaffolding about the tower, then in the process of erection.
In 1874, Mr. Kennedy took his family back to the Old Country.

A brief sketch can hardly do justice to the careers of these two woman, so let the following sketch suffice. Lucy became a dressmaker and then a noted fashion designer. In 1900, she married Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon and, in 1903, opened "Lucile Limited" in London. Her's was the place the English glitterati got their best clothes for the next 20 years.

(Lucy Christiania, Lady Duff-Gordon (1919)/Wikimedia commons.)

Lucile was later known for surviving the sinking of the Titanic in 1912. She and her husband survived in a life boat that carried only 12 people although it had a capacity of 40. Rumors spread that Duff-Gordon had bribed the crew to leave the ship prematurely. A subsequent inquiry exonerated him.

Anyway, as the website of Lucile and Co. states today, Lucile Duff-Gordon was the "It girl" of the Belle Epoque.

Lucy's sister Elinor married Clayton Louis Glyn in 1892 but the marriage proved unworkable. As a result, Elinor Glyn began a series of affairs with various high-flying British aristocrats. If that were not scandalous enough, she began to publish risqué novels based on her experiences. The best-known is "Three weeks," about a young English nobleman who has a three-week fling with an older woman in Switzerland, and published in 1907 (and based on a true story!).

The book inspired the following bit of popular verse:

Would you like to sin
With Elinor Glyn
On a tiger skin?
Or would you prefer
To err with her
On some other fur?
The book was panned by critics as vulgar, silly, and disreputable and, naturally, sold very well.

(Elinor Glyn/Courtesy of Wikimedia commons.)

Elinor went on to write and produce screenplays for early Hollywood films. Perhaps the most famous of these was "It" (1927), about a spunky young redhead who sets her cap at her wealthy employer. The movie popularized the concept of the "It girl", a woman who possesses "It," defined by Elinor as follows:

With It, you win all men if you are a woman and all women if you are a man. It can be a quality of the mind as well as a physical attraction.
Clara Bow, who played the heroine in the movie, was thus the first official It girl.

(Poster for "It"/Courtesy Wikimedia commons.)

So, when our postcard arrived at the Guelph post office in 1904, "Summerhill" was already known as the former residence of the Sutherland girls, each making a name for herself in the Old Country.

As luck would have it, the postcard's recipient, Master Hyde Auld, was also destined to make a name for himself and the Royal City but in his own way.

James Hyde Auld was born in Guelph on 27 June 1891. He was the third child of Charles and Jessie Auld. Charles Auld was in the carriage goods business, having worked as a traveling salesman for the Guelph Carriage Goods Co. (Mercury, 20 July 1927). In 1887, Auld and his partner Augustus Woodyatt took over the Guelph Sewing Machine and Novelty Works on Nelson Crescent (now the site of a parking lot at 8 Paisley Street) and began to manufacture lawn mowers there. The business expanded quickly and was moved to the former McCrae Woolen Co. mill lands (now on Arthur Street South, below the railway bridge). By 1902, the business became part of the Taylor-Forbes Co. Besides lawnmowers, it produced steam boilers, general hardware, metal castings and, later, auto parts.

Jessie Auld, née Forbes, was a daughter of Robert Forbes, who was half of Taylor-Forbes Co. and who had bought Summerhill in 1874. Although her husband Charles is usually listed as living in the downtown area, it seems that Jessie remained at Summerhill, at least much of the time. So it was that her son James Hyde could be found there in 1904 when our postcard was dropped in the mail.

James Hyde, who went by "Hyde," signed up for the Canadian Expeditionary Force at Woodstock in November, 1915. The fact that he did so in Woodstock instead of Guelph suggests that he might not have had his mother's approval.

His profession is given as "salesman," suggesting that he had followed his father, probably at Taylor-Forbes. For reasons unknown, he was not assigned to overseas duty and signed up a second time in Toronto in June, 1916. His record notes that he suffered and attack of diphtheria in March, 1917 and so was not sent overseas until October of that year. He then seems to have suffered at attack of chicken pox in Britain, which further delayed his deployment to France until May, 1918.

There, he joined the 78th Battalion (Winnipeg Grenadiers) as a Lieutenant. On 2 Sep 1918, he was shot through the right leg just above the knee. The location near Dury and the date suggests that he was taking part in the Battle of the Hindenberg line, the Allied offensive that eventually brought about the defeat of the German army.

He was evacuated to London for treatment and rehabilitation. The wound was quite profound, and he was returned to Canada only in September, 1919. There, he was fitted with a knee brace but continued to have significant difficulty walking, which, I imagine, persisted for the rest of his life.

By the time that Hyde returned to Canada, his mother and sister had relocated to 123 Glasgow Street (north), where he and other family members remained for the rest of his life. The house remains there today, a classic Royal City residence made from local stone (dormers are a recent addition):

Hyde evidently decided on a change of career. Instead of resuming his job in sales, which may have been difficult, given his injury, he pursued a career in music. Specifically, Hyde joined the Presto music club of Guelph and began training and performing as a baritone. A short survey of his ambitious training is given in the Toronto Globe (15 Sep 1927):

His many friends will be interested to learn that Hyde Auld, Canadian baritone, is now studying in Paris with Jean Perier of the Opera Comique. During the past season Mr. Auld has been much in demand in and around New York for private musicales and soirees, and in November will make his European debut in Paris. Arriving home in December, Mr. Auld will be available for engagements in January, February and March. He then returns to Paris, going later to Italy.
His first performance that I have found is in Toronto under the tutelage of James Campbell-McInnes of that city in December, 1921. It seems that he wasted little time upon his return to Canada.

Hyde performed both classical works and folk songs. For example, he sang "Duna" and "The old road" at the grand re-opening of the Guelph Collegiate and Vocational Institute (Mercury, 8 Nov 1923). A notion of what this performance sounded like may be gained from the singing of "Duna" by the baritone Thomas L. Thomas in 1956:

(Courtesy of Youtube.)

On 8 May 1929, Hyde performed on a broadcast of the Imperial Oil hour on CKGW Toronto, a radio station based at the King Edward Hotel (Globe). While the Imperial Oil Symphony Orchestra played, Hyde sang "Ich liebe dich" by Grieg. (How many oil companies have symphony orchestras today?) Hyde was one of several performers on the program.

That he sang in German suggests that Hyde did not hold a grudge. This attitude seems to be confirmed by the fact that Hyde later visited Munich, Germany for advanced study in his field (Globe, 6 July 1935). One wonders what he thought of the Nazis then in power there.

Besides being a well-known Canadian baritone, Hyde took an interest in teaching. He had become a member of the Ontario Educational Association by 1939, when he is listed as a sponsor of the seventh annual concert of music students of Ontario, given in Massey Hall in Toronto (Globe, 12 April 1939). Later records give his profession variously as musician, vocalist, and music teacher. By 1957, he is listed as "retired."

James Hyde Auld died on 6 November 1981 at the age of 90 years. Although not as well-known as the Royal City's most famous tenor, Edward Johnson, Auld deserves to be remembered for his achievements in the national and international music scenes, all accomplished in the face of significant adversity.

Of course, the Xmas tableau would not be complete without mention of some significant events of the season in 1904.

On Dec 5, Mr. John Gordon of Nassagaweya lost his left leg below the knee after being run over by a train at the C.P.R. station (that is, the Priory). The Mercury explains that the event occurred on the passenger platform as Mr. Gordon jumped on and off the train as it pulled in (5 Dec). He slipped and his leg went under a wheel. The loss of his services, the article notes, would be a "serious drawback" to his wife and six children and their work on the farm.

The Street Railway (that is, the streetcar) provided free trips on Dec 13 to celebrate the installation of its battery system. The purpose of the system was to provide for more efficient use of power in driving the streetcars, as explained by Mr. Rufus N. Chamberlain, of the Gould Storage Battery Co. of Depew N.Y.:

The surplus power produced by the steam driven generator when the cars are in operation or at a standstill, as they all are at the ends of the line, or on St. George's Square, is stored, and when extra power is required for pulling cars, freight and passengers from the C.P.R. station or up the Brock Road (now Gordon Street) hill to the Agricultural College, it is drawn from the storage battery.
The principle is much the same as in hybrid engines today. Curious passengers could tour the giant battery jars in the power house behind the streetcar barns at the end of the Waterloo Avenue.

My favourite Xmas gift advertisement is for a new-fangled, Bissell carpet sweeper as available from G.B. Morris's hardware store, located at 22 Lower Wyndham Street (now the site of Lutherwood Employment Centre). Morris had opened the store in 1889 and sold it in 1906 when he became manager of the Royal Bank.

What wife wouldn't appreciate the gift of a modern carpet sweeper?

As usual, pupils in each school were allowed to show off their accomplishments. For example, pupils in Miss Rose's drawing and woodworking class in Alexandra School (next to Central School) displayed their handicrafts (Mercury, 22 Dec):

On the blackboard was the suggestive quotation from Michael Angels: "Trifles make perfection but perfection is no trifle." The motto for the term was: "Not good enough but as good as you can do." This was suggested to Miss Rose by the pupils asking frequently in connection with their work, "Is that good enough?"
The pupils in the senior fourth classes were restricted to key racks, match scratchers and calendar backs, and marvelous as well as beautiful were the results, some combining all three purposes in one model.
Good enough!

The usual winter recreational opportunities were open, including skating at the Street Railway rink (behind the car barns on Waterloo Avenue) and on the Speed Open Air Rink, that is, the Goldie Mill pond, with the entrance off Perth Street (now Arthur Street North).

On Dec 31, the Elliott Home was officially opened by the Lieutenant-Governor of Ontario, Mr. William Mortimer Clark. The institution was funded by the estate of Mr. George Elliott as shelter for the poor, old and infirm. The original plan was to call it by the customary name, "The Home for the Friendless." However, as the Mercury noted, such a dreary name seemed out of keeping with the times. It suggested "Fairview," a sunnier name that reflected the building's high perch in the middle of Delhi Street, which then overlooked an array of bucolic farms to the north. In the end, "The Elliott Home" stuck.

Unfortunately, the old Elliott Home was demolished in 1965 to make way for an expansion of the General Hospital, but that is a tale for another time.

Guelphites in general, and young Master Auld in particular, looked forward to a happy new year, as desired for him by his nice, new postcard.

Thursday, 30 November 2017

The Brills of Guelph

Postcard collectors know that the back of a postcard can be as interesting as the front. Just as the front may provide a picture of people, places, and events, the back of the card may provide a window on the life of its sender or addressee. That is the case with the card below:

The card shows the interior of Yeates & Thomas Confectionary Store, better known as the Kandy Kitchen. The Kandy Kitchen was a popular candy store, ice-cream parlor, soda fountain, and eatery located on Lower Wyndham Street. Although the business closed in the 1930s, the building remains today at 27 Wyndham St. N., home of Kwik Kopy.

rych mills briefly described the business in a recent Flash from the Past column.

As noted, the story for this post begins on the back of the card with the following message (25 Oct 1910):

Dear Sir:—Just a few lines to let you know that our furniture arrived all O.K. except a few scratches which could not be helped. We have the car unloaded in the house. 43 Richardson St. // Leo Brill
The postcard was addressed to Mr. J. Feathers of Owen Sound. So, who was Leo Brill and why was he bringing his furniture to Guelph?

The answer takes us back into the early history of the Royal City.

Leo Brill was a grandson of James Thomas Brill, a native of Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire, England. Born in 1828, James and his wife Louisa and son George emigrated to Canada West (as Ontario was then known) in 1855. The 1861 Census shows them living in St. Andrew's Ward, Toronto, where James was a grocer. Evidently, the Brills took a liking to the Royal City and relocated there sometime in the next few years.

Once situated, J.T. Brill entered the dairy and pork packing trades, founding the Wellington Packing House. The business prospered and, indeed, became an international concern. In 1876, J.T. Brill had a new building erected to house the work, a building that still stands at 21 Gordon Street (Couling 1996, p. 28):

We can get a sense of how the business worked in those days from a later reminiscence published by an old-timer in the Mercury (22 Feb 1948):

On the north corner there, that big stone building once housed one of the Royal City’s most prosperous business establishments. Dressed hogs were brought here by farmers from miles around and shipped to buyers throughout the country. In those days there were no abbatoirs or packing houses and the farmers killed their own hogs and sold them here. It was strictly a winter business, for the carcasses kept better in the cold weather. I can remember seeing hundreds of sleighs and wagons standing in line waiting to be weighed and unloaded.
It is interesting to imagine how this building would have looked surrounded by a crowd of wagons and sleighs, heaped with dressed hogs.

Farmers would bring their dressed hogs to the market square, where the new city hall stands today. Buyers like J.T. Brill would inspect them and purchase those they liked, which the farmers then delivered. A sense of the scale of this enterprise can be gained from the following report (Globe, 14 Dec 1868):

Pigs are not a bad institution, says the Guelph Mercury, when a man runs a mill. On Thursday, Mr. John Armstrong, Eramosa, brought to market 64 hogs of his own feeding, weighing over 18,000 lbs. He sold them to Mr. Brill of the Wellington Packing House, for $8 per cwt, realizing for the lot about $1,500.
In 1875, Brill bought 72,000 lbs. of butter in Fergus, shipping the lot to Britain in seven train car loads. In 1880, he purchased and shipped three car loads of butter and six car loads of eggs to South Africa. In 1885, he and other investors formed the Ontario Dairy Company, to consolidate their varied dairy interests.

As his business grew, J.T. Brill took prominent roles in civic life. He was a long-time member of the Guelph Board of Trade, predecessor to the current Chamber of Commerce. He was an official with the Ontario Creameries Association, and an alderman (think City Councillor) in 1884 and 1885.

(James Brill, courtesy of James Brill & Sharon A. McDonald of Teeswater, ON.)

He died at the age of 91, whereat his obituary notes that he was a member of St. George's Church and Society, which had presented him with a "handsome St. George's jewel," a Past President of the Speed Masonic Lodge, and "an ardent Britisher at all times" (Mercury, 16 Sep 1919).

George James Brill, son of James Thomas, was an employee and, likely, a partner in his father's business. Like his father, George took an interest on local politics, serving as an alderman for St. James's Ward in 1900. He was also active in the local Liberal party.

Unlike his father (so far as I can determine), George enjoyed sports, especially curling. His name arises frequently in lists of curling teams participating in local and regions competitions. For example, a team called the Grain Buyers, in which he played lead, defeated a team from the Mercury by a score of 12 to 11 in what was considered a well-played match in front of many spectators (Globe, 4 Mar 1892).

For reasons that remain unclear to me, George and his family departed for Cleveland, Ohio in 1902. Perhaps he inherited his father's need to strike out on his own.

The story continues with William Peter Brill, one of George's sons, born in Guelph in May, 1874. Like his father, he also had the peripatetic gene. On March 11, 1894, he married Minnie Evans in Lynnville, Norfolk County (near Simcoe). His profession is listed as confectioner. This skill is likely one that he learned in connection with this father and grandfather's dairy business.

The 1901 Census finds Mr. and Mrs. Brill, along with sons Leo and Clarence, living in Owen Sound, where William continued as a confectioner. Evidently, the gravitational pull of the Royal City was too great, and the family relocated to Guelph. Leo's postcard suggests that they arrived in October 1910 and took up residence at 43 Richardson, a charming duplex that remains in the same place today:

The postcard also suggests that William had already lined up a job at the Kandy Kitchen as a confectioner. He remained with the Yeates & Thomas firm, later the Royal Dairy, as a superintendant for the rest of his career.

If William delighted the children (and adults) of Guelph with candy and ice-cream, his own children became noted and important members of the community. His two older sons, Leo and Clarence joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF) during the Great War.

Leo Keith Brill left his job as a watch maker and joined up on 28 Jan 1916. By July of the same year, he arrived in France as a Bombardier with the 11th Brigade of Canadian Field Artillery. He was transferred to the 9th Brigade in 1917 upon reorganization of the CEF. On 22 Aug 1917, he was wounded in a gas attack near Camiers. Despite recuperating from the attack, Leo continued to experience headaches, double vision, and a burning sensation in his eyes. He was declared medically unfit for duty and returned to Canada, arriving in Halifax on 7 July 1918.

Not long after the end of the war, Leo emigrated to the United States, ending up in White Plains, New York, where he got work as real estate agent. It may well be that the damage to his vision meant the end of his career as a watch maker, prompting him to make a fresh start elsewhere.

Like Leo, Clarence Brill was a young watchmaker in Guelph. He had inherited the family love of sport, having done well in events organized by the Guelph Cross Country Run and Road Association (Globe, 1 Nov 1910). Also like Leo, Clarence signed up for the CEF on 28 Sep 1915. He arrived in France as a Gunner with the 11th Brigade of the CFA in July 1916. He was also transferred to the 9th Brigade in 1917. He appears to have served out the war without major injuries and was returned to Canada in March 1919.

By the end of the year, Clarence had also emigrated to the United States, finding work as a watchmaker in Brooklyn, New York.

The younger two of William Brill's boys, Evan and Earl, were too young to serve in the war and, perhaps not by coincidence, remained in the Royal City afterwards.

The best-known of the pair was Evan. Like his older brothers, Evan Brill assumed the trade of watchmaker. However, he was mainly known for his passion and prowess for hockey. As soon as Guelph resumed placing a junior team in the Ontario Hockey Association (OHA), Evan was "in" (Globe, 3 Jan 1921). In his history of local hockey, Harold Cole describes Evan Brill's style in this way (1971, p. 5):

He was not at all the free skating smooth type of player. It was his terrific drive and utter fearlessness that commanded the respect of all his team-mates, to say nothing of his opponents. Older Guelph hockey fans will recall his drives down the ice, during which, rival players cutely attempted to tangle their sticks in his flying skates, only to see him take to the air and leap over the wood which was intended to stop him.
Somewhere along the line, Evan earned the nickname "Chesty", so that his name often appears as "Evan (Chesty) Brill" in later discussions of him. The origin of the nickname is not clear.

Perhaps the apex of "Chesty's" career was in the 1932 season during which he played for the Crescent-Hamilton Athletic Club in Brooklyn, New York. The team was a minor professional team within the Eastern Hockey League.

I cannot help but wonder if Evan was considering a move to the U.S., maybe to join his brother Clarence as a watchmaker in Brooklyn. For whatever reason, things did not work out that way and Evan returned to Guelph, where he continued to play local hockey. In 1934, he was a member of the "Hall's Red Indians", sponsored by Halls' Service Station located, as luck would have it, at 23 Gordon Street, just across Nottingham Street from the old Brill pork and dairy building (where the Drop-in Centre now stands). The team won the Guelph League hockey championship (Globe, 14 March 1934) and is pictured in a team photo standing behind their trophy:

(Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 1985.61.1)

Chesty Brill is the fourth player from the left. Here is a close-up:

(Thanks to Kathleen Wall and the Guelph Civic Museums.)

Evan Brill retired from hockey as a player in 1938 (Globe, 15 Feb 1938) but continued to support the game. Most notably, he was one of the organizers of the Guelph Biltmores O.H.A. team known as the "Mad Hatters," when it was reinstituted in 1947.

Like his grandfather George and great-grandfather James, Evan was elected a city alderman in 1949 (Globe, 4 Jan 1949). However, he was unable to assume office. As a sponsor of the Biltmores, Brill had an interest in a concession contract that the City was negotiating with the team. Regulations forbade city aldermen from having such conflicts of interest. Certainly, it speaks to Chesty Brill's priorities to learn that he resigned immediately as alderman.

It is also worth noting that Evan Brill was very successful in the watchmaking trade. In 1948, Brill became the sole proprietor of Savage and Co., a jewelry business founded in Guelph in 1848, and where Evan and his brothers had learned the trade (Mercury, 22 Feb 1948). Brill decided to keep the name Savage & Co. as this remained well-known to Guelphites. The business was located at 21 Wyndham Street North, today the location of Dino's Athletic Direct and just two doors down from the old Kandy Kitchen location where his father and brothers had worked.

Certainly, there is much more that could be said about Evan Brill but it is time to move on.

Earl Brill's early career was quite similar to his older brother, Evan's. He was a particularly good track athlete, winning the overall honours at the Guelph Collegiate and Vocational Institute (GCVI) in both 1923 and 1924. In 1924, Earl set three GCVI records in his category for the 100-yard, 220-yard, and 440-yard dashes. He won the shot put event, and came in second in the pole vault and running broad jump (Globe, 4 Oct 1924).

Like Evan, Earl took to hockey like a duck to water, playing in the Royal City's junior leagues often on the same side as his older brother. He was a good player and played alongside Evan with the Crescent-Hamilton Athletic club in Brooklyn in the 1932 season. At some point along the way, he was dubbed "Curly" Brill, perhaps in honour of his hair, to distinguish him from Evan, and because "curl" rhymes with "Earl", I presume.

Curly had his jaw broken from being hit in the face by a puck shot up the boards (Globe, 5 Jan 1933). It may be no coincidence that I have not found much information about him after that date. It appears that he moved to Toronto in the next few years, perhaps to continue as a watchmaker there.

In addition to Leo, Clarence, Evan, and Earl, William and Mary Brill had two girls, Vida and Wilma. It is always harder to follow the careers of women in the usual records, which tend to concentrate on men. However, I can report that Vida had her moment of local fame when she was crowned the "Queen of the May" for Guelph (Globe, 12 May 1922). She was crowned in a ceremony at the Armouries by Lieutenant-Governor Cockshutt, who decked her with a garland of roses and bestowed upon her the golden sceptre of her office. Most likely, the ceremony was a toned-down version of those carried out in the Old Country, like the following one at Knutsford:

Keeping with tradition, a maypole dance followed on the grounds, under the Queen's supervision. Perhaps it looked like this:

Wags and sceptics may find this procedure outlandish and medieval but I say: If it helps enhance the harvest, then we'd better bring it back!

The next year, Vida married George Brydges and relocated to Toronto.

I am sorry to report that I know very little about Wilma except that she remained in Guelph and unmarried until the death of her father William (Mercury, 29 Dec 1944). It was not an unusual custom at the time for one daughter of a household to remain unmarried and at home to look after her parents and family. That role may have fallen to Wilma. By 1960, she had removed to Woodstock.

The story of the Brills of Guelph is of interest in its own right, as the family has been a part of the life of the Royal City for much of its history. It also illustrates how the historical memory of a place can be revived and illustrated by little things, such as the postcard that Leo Brill dashed off to let friends know that his family was returning to its old haunts, bringing its old furniture, and continuing its part in the life of the city.

Wait! Guelph also had a bonus Brill! James Thomas's second son, Samuel, moved from Guelph to Teeswater to manage the Teeswater Butter Factory that his father had bought in 1879. There he married and raised a family including Louisa Brill, born in 1910, who was thus a cousin to William.

The Public accounts of the Province of Ontario show that Louisa was an "instructress" at the Macdonald Institute in Guelph, first listed in 1942 and continuing until at least 1964. The OAC/OVC 1947 Yearbook provides a nice picture of her, standing in the doorway of the Institute with some of her colleagues:

Louisa is on the lower left.

Louisa was an instructor in home economics, a core subject of the Institute. Evidently, she was a good instructor as several of her pupils won accolades for their accomplishments (Globe, 3 Feb 1959):

A proud teacher and victorious student made a triumphant return to Macdonald Institute, Guelph, last Friday, after Anne Heslop emerged as Canada’s champion cherry pie maker. This was the fourth time that Miss Louisa Brill, of the Institute staff, had chaperoned an entrant, when regional winners have met in Toronto in the annual final baking competition.
Anne Heslop gives much of the credit for her success to her home economics teachers—Miss Brill at “Mac,” and Miss Winnifred Walton of Weston Collegiate, where she had her earlier training.
After her retirement from the Institute, Louisa Brill returned to southern Bruce County.

Tuesday, 31 October 2017

The Royal City and the Royal Coronation, 1911

Any year has its beginnings and its endings and 1911 was no exception. In the British Empire, it was perhaps most noted for the beginning of a new era with the return of a King George to the British throne. The previous year had seen the death of King Edward VII and, with it, the end of the brief Edwardian era. Edward was succeeded by his son, King George V, whose coronation was set for 22 June 1911.

Naturally, the loyal city of Guelph was eager to celebrate the new king of the House of Guelph. In 1902, Guelph had sent some dignitaries and military men to England to take part in the coronation of King Edward. So, it was thought fit and proper that the same should be done for the coronation of the new King George.

In the end, 706 Canadian dignitaries and military men were rounded up and shipped across the pond by the Dominion. They went in style aboard the Empress of Ireland, a cruise ship of the Canadian Pacific Steamship Company. This ship was the one that would sink to the bottom of the St. Lawrence on 29 May 1914, taking 1,012 lives with her. However, she sailed from Quebec City on 2 June and arrived in Liverpool without incident.

The SS Empress of Ireland from a contemporary postcard/Courtesy of Wikimedia.

Similar groups arrived in Britain from all over the Empire. The military men bivouacked at the euphonious Colonial Coronation Contingents Camp, Duke of York's School, London.

The contingents were assiduously recorded in photographs that were printed up as postcards. Happily, a postcard probably featuring the visiting Guelphites was sent back from the old country.

The card was printed by Gale & Polden, Ltd., Aldershot, Portsmouth, & Chatham. The caption says, "Canadian Artillery // Colonial Coronation Contingents Camp, Duke of York's School, London. 62."

The message on the back reads simply, "Certainly a fine trip & lots of spare time. // B B Mc." The addressee was "J. Vertigan, Esq // The Armouries" in Guelph.

Here is another beginning, for the Armouries in Guelph had been officially opened only two months earlier! Joseph Vertigan is listed in the city directory as a caretaker there. It seems the postcard was addressed to him by the cryptic Mr. B B Mc.

The Armouries, Guelph, Canada, published by Rumsey & Co., Toronto (as seen from Jubilee Park).

The bad thing is that Guelph newspapers for this event are missing, so our information about the contingent is limited. The good thing is that the passenger manifest of the Empress of Ireland still exists and lists the points of origin of its passengers, including those from Guelph! They are as follows:

Saloon passengers
Mr. Hugh Guthrie, M.P., Mrs. Guthrie
Mr. E. Harvey, Mrs. Harvey.
Major D.M. Foster, 16th Battery, C.F.A., Guelph, Ont.
Sergt. A. Anderson, 11th Battery, 1st Brigade, C.F.A.
O.R. Sergt. B. McConkey, 1st Brigade, C.F.A.
C.Sergt. O. Wideman, 30th Regiment
Departmental Corps
Sergt.-Major C.T. Lark, C.A.S.C., No. 1 Co.
The saloon passengers were the civilian dignitaries, who, therefore, spent much of the voyage in the saloon.

It was quite an honour to be selected for this event, so it is interesting to find out about the people who were picked.

  • Mr. & Mrs. Hugh Guthrie: Hugh Guthrie was a local boy and a barrister in the city. He was elected M.P. for South Wellington with the Liberals in 1900 and represented the riding federally until 1935. It would be distracting to attempt to summarize his political career; suffice it to say that he held numerous Cabinet posts and was one of the most prominent men of the town for many years. His inclusion in the coronation party was surely a no-brainer.

  • Mr. & Mrs. E. Harvey: Edmund Harvey was born in Galt in 1844 (Mercury, 3 July 1923). His family had the good sense to relocate to Guelph in 1850, where he remained for most of his life. He became a prosperous pharmacist but later turned to oil, real estate and finance, where he made a tidy fortune. He was City Treasurer and Paymaster of the 30th Wellington Battalion of Rifles from 1884 until 1896. His obituary fails to mention that he was charged with embezzlement of at least $12,000 from the City treasury at that time (Globe, 27 Aug. 1896). In the end, he pled guilty to reduced charges and, evidently, remained a respectable town patrician. He later got into lime manufacturing in Rockwood and was still president of E. Harvey, Ltd., when he died suddenly of a heart attack on 29 July 1923. His grave in Woodlawn cemetery is marked by an impressive obelisk.

  • Douglas Mortimer Foster was born in Guelph in 1878 and became a dentist. He served 14 years with the 16th Battery of the Canadian Field Artillery, beginning around 1900. He joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force in Guelph on 13 Dec. 1915, in the Canadian Army Dental Corps with the rank of Captain. He served in France until he came down with a case of appendicitis in 1917. It appears that he travelled to Canada briefly to recover and then returned to France in 1918. Evidently, he remained with the military and was promoted to Major with the Wellington Rifles in 1924. He died on 13 Nov. 1962.

  • Sergt. A. Anderson: I have not found out much about Andrew A. Anderson except that he was born about 1869 somewhere in Ontario to Scottish parents. He worked in the printing business in Guelph. He died 17 Oct. 1933.

  • O.R. Sergt. B. McConkey: Benjamin Bertram McConkey was born in Guelph on 8 Dec. 1890 (Mercury, 3 June 1918). He had served three years with 16th Battery under Major Foster when the coronation beckoned. He graduated from McGill University in 1914, apparently having studied architecture there. He had little time to practice his profession: Upon the outbreak of the Great War, McConkey immediately joined up with the artillery as a Lieutenant. He was later promoted to Captain and won the Military Cross for his performance at the battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917. He died on 29 May 1918 from wounds to his right hand and shoulder. He is buried in Doullens by the Somme in northern France. He is also evidently the sender of the postcard above: "B B Mc"!

  • C. Sergt. O. Wideman: Orrie C. Wideman was born on 7 July 1884, the second son of Louis Conrad Wideman (so, "Orrie C." probably expands to "Orrie Conrad") and Jeannie Wideman. Louis Wideman was an important builder in Guelph in the Victorian era and was a Captain of the 30th Regiment. It seems that the apple did not fall far from the tree: Orrie joined the 30th Regiment as well, rising to the rank of Colour Sergeant in 1906. Around (after?) the coronation, Wideman moved to Toronto to pursue the building trade there. He joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force on 17 Sep. 1915 and served until the end of the war. The 1921 Ontario Census shows him living in Toronto, working as a contractor (with an income of $1400), along with his wife Henrietta and children Lily and George. He died in Toronto on 5 May 1958.

  • Sergt.-Major C.T. Lark: Charles Thomas Lark was born in England in 1879 and immigrated to Guelph in 1907 (Mercury, 19 Oct. 1953). He seems to have felt very comfortable in uniform! He served in London's First Dragoons from about 1895 until 1903. His unit participated in Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in 1897 and fought in the Boer War. After that, Lark joined the London Metropolitan Police until he upped sticks for Canada. His move was precipitated by a desire to join the Royal North-West Mounted Police. It seems, though, that he took an understandable liking to Guelph and remained in the Royal City instead, taking work at the Standard Valves plant and joining the Canadian Army Service Corps (now known as the militia), in which capacity he participated in the coronation. After the coronation, Lark decided on another change, joining the Guelph Police Department, where he rose to the rank of sergeant. During the Great War, Lark joined the Canadian Expeditionary Force on 12 June 1916 as a Lieutenant. For reasons that are not explained in his records, Lark did not depart with his regiment and was demobilized instead in April, 1917. He resumed his role in the Guelph police. In 1921, the restless Lark then became a guard at the Ontario Reformatory ("prison farm"), where he remained, as a sergeant, until 1937. Finally, Lark retired and, naturally, became a night clerk at the Wellington Hotel until 1951. He died on 17 Oct. 1953.
Mayor and Mrs. George Thorp also attended the coronation as part of a European tour they went on. However, they were sent by the Town of Guelph instead of the Dominion, and so did not voyage with the others.

I presume that many or all of the Guelph military party is present in the postcard above. However, I do not presently have any other photos of the people involved, so I am unable to say who is which or which is who. Perhaps some educated guesses could be made by matching people's ranks to the insignia on their uniforms. If you can shed any light on the subject, please do so in the comments section below!

The coronation went off on 22 June without a major hitch. The colonial contingents marched in the procession before the royal couple, assumed positions near Westminster Abby, and stood to attention as the royals entered and later exited.

The coronation ceremony marked a number of firsts. For example, it was the first coronation in which the service within the Abbey was allowed to be photographed.

King George V and Queen Mary seated on the Chairs of Estate in front of the royal box at their coronation in 1911. By Benjamin Stone/Wikimedia commons.

The event was also extensively recorded in moving pictures. Coronation Of King George V (1911)/British Pathé.

My favourite technological first for this coronation would have to be how the newly anointed monarch contrived to the lay the cornerstone of the Fisherman's Institute in St. John's, Newfoundland (Globe, 22 June 1911):

In spite of the pressure of the Coronation ceremonies, King George will find time Thursday to participate in the laying of the corner stone of the new Fisherman's Institute to be erected here by Dr. Wilfrid T. Grenfell. It will be at His Majesty's word, sent over the cable, that Governor Ralph Champney Williams, of Newfoundland, will place the stone in position. Arrangements have been completed for special telegraph and cable connection between Buckingham Palace and the site of the structure in St. John's.
Huzzah! What a signal demonstration of the electrical sinews of the Empire!

In the Royal City, the coronation was celebrated in royal style. A series of athletic contests were held in and around Exhibition Park (Globe, 23 June 1911). The Guelph Shamrock lacrosse team was narrowly exceeded by the Brampton Excelsiors, 3–4. A series of races were held, including sprints, races for whippets, boys on ponies, and a five-mile motorcycle race. The Guelph baseball team travelled to Berlin (now Kitchener) and spit a double-header against the Dutchmen.

A first for Guelph was the inauguration of the city's first, incandescent street-lighting system. The Fire, Light and Markets Committee of the City Council teamed up with the Light and Heat Commission to install the system. At 10pm sharp on coronation day, the downtown was lit up as never before (Globe, 23 June 1911):

Wyndham, Carden, Macdonnell, Quebec, Norfolk and Woolwich streets were made as light as day by the fine lights, and, the effect was very pleasing. Citizens generally expressed their entire satisfaction and approval of the new system, which will hereafter be lighted every night and all night.
Thanks to Niagara Power, courtesy of the new Hydro-Electric Power Commission of Ontario set up by Sir Adam Beck, the future of the new era seemed bright indeed.
Since posting this piece, I came across the following information about B.B. McConkey, which clarifies the circumstances of the action that earned him the Military Cross at Vimy Ridge (Mercury, 12 Dec 1918):
Mrs. B.R. McConkey has received the Military Cross awarded to her son, the late Capt. B.B. McConkey, M.C. The statement of the award, which came with it, is as follows: “Lieut. B.B. McConkey, C.F.A. as F.O.O. for his battery with two N.C.O.s this officer laid a telephone line from Lichfield Crater through Volker Tunnel to Thelus Mill, during the operations against Vimy Ridge, on the 9th of April, 1917. Getting ahead of the mopping up Bn. they were held up by a barricade and a machine gun in the tunnel. They overcame this opposition and after handing over 12 prisoners to the infantry, they established an F.O.O. station in Goulot Wood in time for the next attack. When their lines were cut they continued to send back timely information by runner, showing initiative, perseverance and gallantry.”

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

Flag fight at the O.A.C.

Each September, new students at the University of Guelph are led through a series of activities, known as Orientation Week, designed to welcome them to campus and familiarize them with its ways and means. Events include campus tours and friendly greetings from more senior students.

At the Ontario Agricultural College of an earlier era, the reception of new students included activities decidedly at odds with current practice. The central ritual of this earlier initiation was the flag fight, a pitched battle in which the Freshies (freshmen, or first-year students) defended a cloth fixed to a pole against attacks from the Sophs (sophomores, or second-year students) and a barrage of noxious missiles.

The event is well described by the students themselves (O.A.C. Review 1908, v. 21, n. 2, p. 96):

On a certain day in September sundry and seemingly unaccountable visits were paid by the acolytes of the Second Year to both the poultry department and that fair city of Guelph. The object of these visits was but too plainly felt, or shall we say tasted, by the Freshmen towards nightfall. At supper time preparations were also going on apace in the southeast corner of the campus, and by 7 p.m. there was incorporated in that peaceful scene a twenty-foot pole with the Freshmen emblem lazily flapping in the evening breeze.
Alas! The face of this earth is ever changing and this was but too true when applied to our present scene.
In the brief space of one half hour that flag pole was the centre of a mass of seething, surging humanity, and the sweet fragrance of the nocturnal air was polluted by the “foul” smell of “incubator eggs.”
The struggle had been raging for some time; the Freshies manfully up holding their colours—if this is not too elite an expression for that jaded apparition of an emblem; the Sophs with equal tenacity endeavoring to raze them to the ground, and the spectators growing dubious of the result. Suddenly, however, a Soph shot up that pole like a streak of lubricated lightning, and with lusty shouts from his comrades below he rent it from its staff.
It was “Scottie Lawson,” and to say that he was cheered would ill describe his reception. He was carried round the college on the shoulders of his classmates to the symbolic music of Sophomore yells, and was well nigh killed before regaining terra firma.
From this gay sight let us glance at the returning Freshies. They were glad it was over, but were indeed a sorry, spectacular sight. Some bore the sanguinary stains of decomposed tomatoes and others the more golden lustre of eggs in the last stages of putrefaction; again some were divested of raiment, especially in the matter of hats and shirts. In all they were in a deplorable condition, but had the consolation that they were little worse than the Sophs.
Welcome to school!

Hazing rituals had been part of student life at the O.A.C. since its inception (as was the case at most colleges of the era). Each year, the sophomore class was expected to devise novel torments for the incoming group. These usually involved some combination of combat and assault with unpleasant substances and often occurred at night. In 1907, the sophomores came up with the idea of the flag fight, such as the one described above (O.A.C. Review 1913, v. 26, n. 1, p. 22).

The contest proved popular and became the central event in initiation for many years afterwards. It also became an attraction for the townsfolk of Guelph, who seem to have enjoyed watching it. It was also attended by the girls of Macdonald Hall, which may have added to the humiliation of the losers. In addition, the fight was the subject of a series of postcards, which exhibit each stage of the event.

First is "The challenge." On the left, the freshmen surround their flagpole ready to fend off attacks from any side. On the right are the sophomores, considering their strategy.

Second is "The attack." A sophomore attempts to climb the pole while freshmen try to drag him down.

Third is "The repulse." It seems that the attack was beaten off, while wrestling matches between pairs of first- and second-year students have broken out.

Fourth and last is "The finish." The contest is over. A student stands, facing the camera with his shirt in rags. Many more items of shredded clothing dot the landscape.

Rending of shirts and hats was considered an indispensable part of the event.

The postcards were printed for prominent local druggist, A.B. Petrie, who perhaps took a particular interest in it. The earliest postmark that I have seen for a card in this series is January 1909. This suggests the photos were taken in either 1907 or 1908. My guess is that it is the 1907—and first—event that is depicted. In his recollection of the 1907 flag fight, S.J. Neville, who was one of the Sophomore organizers, recalls that no weapons or projectiles were allowed that year (O.A.C. Review 1913, v. 26, n. 1, p. 22):

We called the newcomers out in the afternoon, gave them a flag to defend, and ruled out all forms of dirt or weapons, even to water and knotted towels.
In contrast, the 1908 event was characterized by the use of rotten tomatoes and eggs, as noted above. The pictures in the postcards show no evidence of such weapons, so they most likely show the 1907 edition.

There are many possible reasons for the origin and appeal of hazing rituals of this sort. These reasons include (Cimino 2011, pp. 243–244):

  1. Fostering group solidarity,
  2. An expression of dominance, or
  3. Selection of committed group members.
In his recollections, Neville clearly views the object of the flag fight at the O.A.C. in the first year, as a way of quelling inter-year rivalries. He notes that the sophomores of 1907, including himself, lost the fight but did not feel dishonored since the fight was conducted without meanness. They went on to have a good relationship with the freshmen class of that year.

Neville contrasts that situation with the relationship between his class and the preceding one due to their initiation in 1906:

My first knowledge of initiation was, as was natural, gained at the expense of personal suffering, mostly mental, I admit, on a stricken field. In the forefront of battle, at the elbow of the strong man, Chinky Moorhouse, I undoubtedly received my full share of the good things, including two eyes-ful of flour and molasses, which signally failed to render the dark and stormy night any brighter. That was the last of the old-fashioned objectless dirt-battles. It was common-place both while in progress and in results, and we Freshies were duly humbled—for the time.
Evidently, the sophomores of 1906 were bent on a display of dominance.

Neville notes that the flag fight of 1913 was particularly brutal, featuring dousing of the freshmen with a mixture of water, tar, and carbon disulfide, a noxious chemical whose physical effects include, "tingling or numbness, cramps, muscle weakness, pain, distal sensory loss, and neurophysiological impairment." Not surprisingly, this precocious use of chemical warfare did not sit well with the vanquished freshmen, and the two sides engaged in a series of reprisals throughout the rest of the year.

Authorities gradually sought to curb initiation rites. Nocturnal events were disallowed in 1916 (OAC Year book 1920, v. 6, pp. 41, 44). In 1922, the flag fight alone was the only form of initiation allowed (Globe, 5 Oct. 1922) although this restriction was relaxed in 1925 (Globe, 23 Sep. 1925).

Initiations were banned in Ontario universities in 1926 but the flag fight at the O.A.C. continued (Globe, 1 Oct. 1926). The O.A.C. was held to be exempt from the rule, perhaps because it was officially a part of the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture, which had not issued such an instruction.

The last flag fight that I am currently aware of took place in 1929. However, I have not made a search specifically for later occurrences, so it may have gone on for many years afterwards. If you know of any later ones, or of similar events at other colleges, perhaps you could leave them in the comments below.

The flag fight is a curious development in college initiation rituals. It was introduced, in part, as an alternative to "object-less" dirt fights that took place in earlier years. It is in some ways like a tug-of-war in which two teams compete to move a flag tied to a rope into their territory. Unlike a tug-of-war, the flag fight still involved direct physical combat. This fact may explain why some later fights featured the re-introduction of weaponry by the sophomores, as a way of overcoming their numerical inferiority and to ensure their dominance over their first-year rivals.

Walking across Johnston Green today, it may be fun for freshmen to imagine a tall pole with a flag flying on top, along with the sophomore class, eggs and tomatoes at the ready, preparing to charge. Or, not.