Monday, 19 May 2025

Mildred Fry, an excellent nurse

The letter, typed on Homewood Sanitarium letterhead, dated 13 October 1913, praises Mildred Fry as follows:
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
This is to certify that Miss Fry is a graduate of the Homewood, having taken a high standing in her class. She is an excellent nurse, and I can recommend her very highly to your good services. You will make no mistake in employing Miss Fry on any case that needs professional nursing.
A.T. Hobbs
Medical Superintendent
In addition, the letter came into my keeping with a set of real photo postcards, providing us with a portrait of Mildred and some of her family members.

Perhaps the most notable postcard is presumably of Mildred herself.

The picture shows Mildred in a crisp, white uniform, emphasizing her professional status. The open book on the table beside denotes the learning she has acquired in nursing school. It seems likely that this image was taken on (or near) her graduation in 1913. There is no caption or writing on the back but it seems save to assume that this is Mildred herself.

Mildred Fry was born on 11 July 1892 in Dunnville, Ontario. Both the 1901 and 1911 Ontario censuses show the Fry family resident on a farm near Dawn, in west Lambton County. She was from a large family. Between them, the two censuses list the following children of Mildred's parents, Malcolm and Jessie: Della, Mildred, Ina, Francis, Ada, Burton, Dwight, Morley, and Jessie. A large family but not an uncommonly large one for the era.

Another real photo postcard in the set shows Mildred in a lovely, formal Edwardian dress, along with accessories including a nice hat, a pearl necklace, and a wristwatch. Very timely!

Next is a postcard with a message written on the back that identifies the woman in the image: "Wishing you a Very Merry Christmas // Della." So, the picture likely features Mildred's older sister Della with her husband Perry Sanderson, along with their two boys Nelson and Burton, as listed in the 1911 Census, which locates them on a farm near Dawn.

With this identification in mind, it is straightforward to identify the women in the postcard above as Mildred (seated) and Della. The ladies are dressed in very elegant later Edwardian summer atire. In particular, Mildred has full-length gloves and a generous hat pin. It is not unlikely that this attire belonged to the photographer, as they often had a closet of special clothing on hand for dressed-up photos.

Another photo shows a couple of young women dressed in nice, cool-weather attire and photographed outdoors, seated on a log. The postcard is not labelled but the context suggests that they may be Mildred's younger sisters Ina and Ada.

There are a few more images in the set but the last one I will include here is one of a young man in military uniform. There is no notation on the back of the postcard to say who this is. However, a reasonable guess would be that it is Clark Francis Fry, one of Mildred's younger brothers. Records of the Canadian Expeditionary Force show that Francis signed up in January 1916 and shipped out overseas the following year. So, this image might date from some time in that interval. He served in the 18th Canadian Battalion, and was active with it during the climactic Hundred Days Offensive in 1918. Just after the Armistice, he caught the Spanish Flu and was sent to recover in hospital in England. He returned to Canada the following year and later moved to Lowell, Massachusetts, to start a new life in the textile industry there.

Mildred leaves a light imprint in historical records. The most substantial record that I have found is a description of graduation ceremony of the Homewood nursing students, class of 1913 (Mercury, 14 May). The ceremony took place at the Sanitarium on the evening of May 13. Dr. Hobbs praised the excellence of the graduates, followed by Dr. MacKinnon, who administered the Florence Nightengale vow, and Rev. H.E. Abraham, who presented the diplomas. The roll of graduates illustrates the kind and number of students in the program at the time:

Miss Fanel Claus, St. Thomas, Ont.
Miss Hannah McCann, Lucan, Ont.
Miss Myrtle Davison, Shelburne, Ont.
Miss Estelle E. Fuhr, Wyecombe, Ont.
Miss Margaret T. Bates, St. Ann’s, Ont.
Miss Blanch A. Smith, Iona, Ont.
Miss Mildred D. Fry, Petrolia, Ont.
Miss Josephine E. McGuire, Guysboro, N.S.
Each graduate was also presented with a bouquet of pink carnations and roses. The evening concluded with dancing.

In November, 1914, Mildred is mentioned in the London Advertiser as a delegate to the Women's Institute convention in that city, and is specifically identified as a delegate from Tupperville, a community in Chatham-Kent, where she resided on a farm on R.R. 2. So, it appears that Mildred did not pursue a career in nursing.

On 30 August 1919, Mildred married Fred Groombridge in Sarnia. The 1921 Census places the Groombridge family back in Mildred's old stomping grounds of Dawn. The family remained in this vicinity and Mildred died in 1958 and is buried in Petrolia.

Young women like Mildred were increasingly engaged with professional education and skills in the early 20th century. Jobs as shop clerks, stenographers, bookeepers, telephone operators, and more opened up opportunties for them in Canadian cities. Nursing was once such occupation.

In 19th century Anglo-American world, nursing was popularized by the famous Florence Nightengale, who treated soldiers injured in the conduct of the Crimean War. Efforts to professionalize nursing resulted in the establishment of nursing schools, starting in Toronto (1881) and Montreal (1890) in Canada.

In the realm of psychiatric care, the Rockwood Asylum in Kingston, Ontartio, was the first to establish a training school (1888) for what would be known as psychiatric nursing today. Professionalization of psychiatric nursing lagged behind that of medical nursing, perhaps due the subject's lower status. In this respect, Homewood was early to develop professional standards and schooling of psychiatric nurses. It adopted uniforms for its nurses in 1902, a signal of their distinction from simple, hired help. In 1906, Homewood opened its school.

("Main Drive, showing Manor and Colonial Building, Homewood Sanitarium, Guelph, Ont." ca. 1905. The message on the back reads, in part: "The picture is a lunatic asylum probably your future home. I’ll meet you there maybe." Publisher unknown.)

In a letter to Provincial Inspector Bruce Smith in 1913, the year of Mildred Fry's graduation, Superintendant Hobbs described the schooling at Homewood in this way (Warsh 1989, p. 115):

My graduate nurses ... undergo a training of two years and three months, undergo a strict course of lectures, and pass a very strict severe standard for their examinations.
Homewood offered a variety of treatment methods in that era, including occupational therapy (as it would be called today), amusements (such as sporting events offered on its extensive grounds), tonics, withdrawal therapy, gynaecological surgery, electrotherapy, hydrotherapy, the rest cure, the gold cure (a treatment for alcoholism), and a kind of chemotherapy. Nursing training would have involved learning and assisting in all of these theraputic regimes.

Nonetheless, graduates were not seen as equal to nurses with medical backgrounds and experienced difficulties in getting good jobs and professional status. (The Province of Ontario finally established professional accredidation for psychiatric nurses in 1922.)

As such, students like Fry provided inexpensive labour during their training but faced significant challenges in finding work in the profession upon graduation. Perhaps these challenges help to explain why Fry returned to farm life shortly after her graduation from Homewood.


Works consulted for this post include:

Sunday, 30 March 2025

Happy Easter 1912 from Rev. W.H. Douglas!


The Guelph in Postcards blog has recently surpassed 500,000 unique views! Thanks everyone for dropping by and stay tuned for more! 🙏 🎉
Postcards in the heyday of the medium were used for many purposes. Today, we tend to associate them with travel; people send postcards to their friends and relations from places they have been. This use has always been common. As Gifford (2013) points out, postcards were commonly used to mark holidays as well. Easter was one such holiday.

Easter postcards often feature generic drawings of bunnies, churches, eggs, chicks and other familiar icons of the season. One such card is shown below.

("Easter greetings" published by Raphael Tuck & Sons, GEM Photochrome Series 3274, ca. 1915. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1967.1.294.)

However, for various reasons, people sometimes took it on themselves to make personalized holiday postcards. One such card is shown below:

In brief, the view is a family portrait in a classy, simulated oval frame. The figures are (from left to right) Mrs. Douglas (née Martha Torrance), Lennox Herbert Douglas, Wesley Ryerson Scott Douglas, and the Rev. William Herbert Douglas.

The back of the card provides an Easter greeting along with a seasonal message and identifies the addressee:

The addressees are Mr. & Mrs. McCarter & Myrtle.

Happily, the message identifies the date and place of the postcard's use: Rockwood, Ontario, 7 April 1912. It's interesting to note that, although the postcard was addressed, it was not sent through the mail. Instead, it was likely delivered by hand. Looking at the persons identified on the card helps to explain why.

So, the puzzle now becomes genealogical: Who were these people and how were they connected such that this postcard was prompted? Investigation yields some interesting answers.

The obvious place to start is with the good Reverend William Herbert Douglas. He was born on 8 March 1873 in Reach Township, Ontario (now part of Scugog Township), to Samuel and Jane Douglas, immigrants from Ireland. The 1891 census reveals that they were farmers and that, while Samuel was a follower of the Church of England, Jane was a Methodist, along with all the couple's children. The family had an academic bent: William's siblings John and Annie were occupied as teachers and his brother Thomas was a Methodist minister. So, it is not surprising that William followed a similar path.

A fulsome obituary in the Georgetown Herald (29 December 1937) provides more details:

Mr. Douglas commenced his ministry as a missionary to the Canadian West, subsequently returning to Ontario and offering himself as a candidate for the ministry at Jarvis, Ont. During his career he has ministered to the following congregations in Ontario: Jarvis, Trafalgar, Rockwood, Port Elgin, Canfield, Norval, Lynden, Port Robinson and finally Mount Pleasant.
The Minutes of the Toronto Methodist church (1900) note that William Douglas was ordained that year. The Acton Free Press (22 July 1909) reported that his first sermon in connection with the Rockwood circuit would be delivered at Siloam church shortly. Later reports suggest that it was warmly recieved.
("Churches of Rockwood, Ont., Canada." Published by the Valentine & Son Publishing Co., ca. 1915. Courtesy of Wellington County Museum A2009.135, ph. 31402. The Methodist church is in the upper right corner.)

Reports suggest that Rev. Douglas performed his duties ably, preaching sermons, conducting weddings and funerals, and, of course, celebrating Easter appropriately. On 23 November 1909, he preached a special sermon to the Christians while addressing the unconverted the next day. It is not reported how many non-believers were in attendance.

(Wedding photo of the Rev. W.H. Douglas and Martha Torrance, courtesy of Janice Masson. The couple was married on 6 June 1900 in Wentworth, Ontario.)

An article in 6 June 1912 Acton Free Press notes that the Reverend was on his way to a new parish on Port Elgin, so, not long after he sent out the Easter card above. He retired from the ministry in 1935 due to failing health and settled in Toronto, where he passed on in 1937.

("Lennox Herbert Douglas," no date. Courtesy of Janice Masson.)

The couple's first son, Lennox Herbert, was born on 6 April 1901 and grew up to become a doctor. He practiced in a number of Ontario communities, winding up in Galt (now part of Cambridge) Ontario, where he passed away in 1966. He married Margaret Vicars Kent of Truro, Nova Scotia, whose father Hedley practiced medicine there for nearly 50 years.

The couple second son (and only other child) Wesley Ryerson Scott was born on 4 February 1904. He married Mary Aileen Moore of Georgetown in 1932. A fulsome obituary in the Georgetown Herald supplies some details (23 September 1959):

Mr. Douglas was born in Kemble in the Bruce Peninsula where his father had a charge, his parents were Rev. and Mrs. W.H. Douglas. When Mr. Douglas served his charge in Norval his son attended Georgetown high school, later going to Victoria College, University of Toronto, graduating in 1929. While at college he played both rugby and hockey on the Victoria and Varsity teams.
For some time after his marriage in 1932, he taught in Northern Vocational School until he suffered a heart attack and was advised to leave the teaching profession. He later formed his own brokerage firm, Ryerson Douglas Securities on Bay Street. He and his family were members of the United Church.
So, he followed the family tradition of teaching, a profession that can be quite rigorous.

The attention paid to the Douglas family in the pages of the Georgetown Herald is partly explained by the fact that Wesley's wife Mary was a daughter of J.M. Moore, publisher and editor of that newspaper for more than 30 years. Both were buried in at the Greenwood Cemetery in Georgetown.

It seems appropriate to finish with a few words about the recipients of the postcard. Mr. Thomas and Mrs. Mary McCarter were Methodists and residents of Rockwood, where Thomas worked as a bailiff. Myrtle was born on 16 September 1898, and so was 14 years old when the McCarters received the postcard. In 1923, she married Harold Douglas Treleaven of Rockwood, who was a salesman. Eventually, the couple relocated to the Big Smoke.

So, we come back to the matter of why the postcard was addressed to the McCarters by the Douglas's. The McCarters likely belonged to the Methodist church in Rockwood. The purpose of the postcard was to reaffirm the place of both families in the local Methodist community. Holiday postcards were often used for this sort of thing.

Thanks again for being a part of the internet postcard community and, of course, Happy Easter!

("Loving Easter greetings" published by Raphael Tuck & Sons, GEM Photochrome Series 3274, ca. 1915.)
Sources used for this post include:

Sunday, 9 February 2025

Bear hug: Guelph embraces its Begging Bear

("Begging bear" dressed for Canada Day, 2009. Photo by Allan MacKeeman. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F70-0-2-0-0-16.)

The body was found lying on the ground in front of the Macdonald Stewart Art Gallery (now the Art Gallery of Guelph) shortly before midnight on the night of Friday, 18 March 2011. Not long before, a gang of ruffians had descendend on the victim, knocking him down from his pedestal, taking pictures of themselves standing over him, and then fleeing the scene.

("The Begging Bear, uprooted and temporarily relocated inside the Macdonald Stewart Art Centre," 21 March 2011. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.)

The victim was a character widely known and admired in the city of Guelph, the Begging Bear.

Eyewitnesses testified that a group of men had been seen jumping on the bear, causing the bronze animal to sway back and forth until the concrete pins that connected him to his footing shattered, thus toppling him over (Mercury, 22 March 2011). Besides taking pictures of themselves in the act, mud found on the side of the bear suggested that the perpetrators had tried to drag the body away though, weighing in at more than 300 pounds, their attempts were stymied.

Characterizing the deed as a "senseless act of vandalism," Guelph police questioned witnesses and scoured social media for clues. The townsfolk were scandalized. Shocked citizens wrote to the Gallery to find out what had happened and where the bear had gone. Happily, Aiden Ware, then co-ordinator of education and development at the art centre, could tell them that the bear had been retrieved by the Gallery and was awaiting rehabilitation.

("Begging bear," ca. 2010. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2013.51.145.)

As an anonymous letter to the Mercury (22 March 2011) noted, reaction to his toppling revealed the Bear's significance to the community:

The extent of the upset over this marring of this public artwork is quite incredible. Perhaps, however, for the thousands who typically pass by it and note its latest look, the extent of the attachment for the bear comes as no surprise. Hundreds of people have interacted with the bear: dressed it; adorned it; photographed it. It has become part of many community statements, causes and celebrations. It has been a sort of mascot in the battle against the spread of AIDS-HIV, a statement of boosterism for various teams, a kiddie art camp canvass - among many other things.

It's just a sculpture and not. In many ways, this bear has become an honorary citizen, an ambassador, a vestige of Guelph and even beyond that—something that comforts the city, adds to its character and provides it creative oxygen.
Others wrote in to suggest ironically that the men who did the deed were heroes who had saved the city from an importunate artwork, or that the Bear had attacked them first so that they merely acted in self-defence.

The Begging Bear was sent to the Artcast foundry in Georgetown, where his wounds would be healed, some dings and scratches repaired, a nice black patina applied. Given his importance to the populace, it was decided that the Bear would be returned to his spot in front of the art centre but fitted with a new and more resiliant base to ensure that the Bear would not have to endure another toppling.

("Raise the bear" flyer for the "Share your care for our bear!" campaign. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

The bill for the work was in excess of $11,000, of which only $4,500 was covered by insurance (Mercury, 11 July 2011). So, the Centre held a fundraising campaign entitled "Share Your Care for Our Bear." Donations were generous and the full amount, plus a little to help out other deserving artworks, was raised.

(The Begging Bear is placed on his new plinth ahead of its re-unveiling. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

The Begging Bear was back in place in time for a re-introduction cermemony on 1 October 2011, in front of an appreciative crowd. And there he remains to this day.

The full name of this sculpture is the Canadiana/Begging Bear, created by artist Carl Skelton. In 1995, Skelton created the first iteration of the bear for an exhibition entitled "Wild Life" curated by John Massler of the Koffler Gallery, Toronto. This Bear was made of urethane foam, autobody filler, and aluminum and stood 77 inches (195 cm) tall. In keeping with the exhibition theme, the Bear was intended to reflect one of the original and wild denizens of the Toronto region. (Thus the "Canadiana" in the name.) It was duly exhibited in the Toronto Sculpture Garden.

("Canadiana/Begging Bear" exhibited at the Toronto Sculpture Garden, ca. 1998. Photo by W.N. Greer.)

However, the form of Bear was modeled not on any natural pose but on a posture a taxidermist would choose. Even so, the smooth face and upturned paw depart from the bared teeth and claws one might expect from a stuffed bruin. Instead of making viewers feel like they should prepare to flee from an attack, the begging posture invites them to approach.

("Macdonald Stewart Art Centre," ca. 2000 by Fred Dahms. Courtesy of the Guelph Civic Museums, 2013.51.105.)

Perhaps it was this quality that attracted the interest of the Art Centre. There, the Donald Foster Sculpture Park had been instituted in 1983 on the grounds of the Centre as a place for artistic activities and public artworks. The Begging Bear seemed like a good fit, so a bronze version was cast and installed in a particularly public location, near a busy Gordon street sidewalk and a well-used bus stop. It was almost as if the new denizen was begging for attention.

(Carl Skelton poses with his Canadian/Begging Bear sculpture at its official unveiling, 1999. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

The Begging Bear was officially unveiled at 7:30pm on 23 September 1999, with Carl Skelton in attendance.

It took little time for the citizenry to relate to the Bear. Less than a year later, the Mercury showed a picture of the Bear wearing a nice necktie, with the comment (16 June 2000):

The Begging Bear statue outside the MacDonald Stewart Art Gallery was spiffed up on Thursday with a necktie. The bear, with outstretched hand, has been spotted variously holding everything from snowballs to loose change since it was installed last fall.
As many Guelphites know from personal experience, the Bear has been dressed in many ways for many occasions since that time. It would be quite a daunting task to catalogue them.
("Carl Skelton: Canadiana/Begging Bear. 1995—1999, bronze, 6.4' x 3.3' x 2.0'." Postcard produced 2004.)

Happily, the Centre chose to spread the fame of the Bear through the medium of postcards. A set of cards was ordered late in 2003 and, no doubt, made their way into the gift shop early in 2004. The image shows the bear leaning forward as if to reach outside the frame of the postcard, making a request of some unseen passer by.

(Begging bear in a crate, 2021. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

After its toppling in 2011, perhaps the most noted public intervention with the Begging Bear was the time it was crated. In July 2021, the Bear was found to be encased in a wooden crate, with only his begging arm sticking out (Mercury, 24 August 2021). Stapled to the crate were what appeared to be police citations for "solicitation in aggressive manner." An "eviction notice" and a "notice to vacate" were also attached, stating that the "homeless" bear was no longer permitted to occupy the sculpture park.

The crating was part of an artist's protest against the criminalization of homelessness. Happily, the Bear was not actually evicted and the crating was later removed.

(Guerilla postcard of the Begging Bear in a crate, 2021. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

However, the artist also took a photo of the crated Bear, printed postcards of it, and snuck them into the Art Gallery's gift shop, placing them there as if they were part of the regular merchandise. Once the ruse was discovered, it was decided to let people take them at no charge if they wished, while a copy was kept for the Gallery's collection.

(Picasso bear, no date. Courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

It's interesting to pause and consider the Bear's place in the history of Guelph's public art. In 1999, he joined a group of statuary including the Blacksmith Fountain, Old Jeremiah, and the Fountain Family. Later members include the Guelph Gryphon and the John McCrae statue at the Civic Museum. So, the Begging Bear is in good company but he remains, arguably, pre-eminent among them. He's just so approachable in so many ways.

("He?" you may ask? Many mentions of the Begging Bear in print use the masculine gender. I have yet to see anyone use "she" or "her." Perhaps it's the dad bod?)

The Begging Bear has endured its many "interventions," including his 2011 toppling, with panache and good grace. With luck, he will continue to grace his central place in the land and minds of Guelphites for years to come.


(Courtesy of Google Street View.)

On the fifth anniversary of the toppling of the Bear, Bill Bean asked creator Carl Skelton what he thought of the Guelph public's relationship with the bear, as revealed by his many costume changes and their response to his toppling. Skelton made some interesting observations, which I will quote here (Mercury, 28 January 2016):

The creator of the Begging Bear, Toronto-born artist Carl Skelton, is "thrilled" that this love affair has happened, although perhaps, he is not that surprised.
Skelton is industry professor and the founding director of the Brooklyn Experimental Media Center and the academic programs in integrated digital media at the Polytechnic Institute of New York University.
Skelton saw the potential for "playful relationships" with the sculpture when the bear was first installed briefly in the Toronto Sculpture Garden, that happened to include a pathway commonly used by homeless people. Skelton says he wasn't sure then what the response would be from the panhandling public to a panhandling bear. But they embraced Bear as one of their own.
Public art has its pitfalls, says Skelton: "Public art can be alienating." When the Macdonald Stewart gallery sought to acquire the Begging Bear, he suspected that a university city like Guelph might result in "grass skirts and coconut bras" for the bear. And, he wondered about the "awkward relationship" with a panhandling bear outside a public institution. But Skelton says the Begging Bear is a Guelph success story.
"Ultimately, the bear succeeds or fails as a personification of the public-ness of the people. The things that people do to, with, or around the bear is a public gesture. Investing in it, to begin with, is a public gesture; taking a picture with it is a public gesture."
Skelton says the real story of the Begging Bear is how the incident united citizens in Guelph. "The whole town got together - you respected yourselves. The public art wasn't the bear - it was the story you built when something bad happened to it.
"The bear has done a better-than-average job of representing you folks (of Guelph) to each other. It represents Guelph to Guelph."

("Stuffed grizzly bear," courtesy of Cristie Guevara.)

Among other things, the Begging Bear is meant to remind us that bears were once denizens of the land where we live now. When thinking of this, I am reminded of a local bear story related by Charles McTague, scion of the McTague family after whom McTague street was named. He was born in Guelpn in 1837 and lived in town his whole life. The Mercury (2 March 1916) asked him for some reminiscences of the town's early days, and the following bear story was among them:

“Don’t put this down,” said Mr. McTague, “because no one will believe it, but it is true. In those days there were a lot of rough-cast houses at the corner of Norfolk and Cork streets, where Maurice O’Connor afterwards built his terrace, and Jack Henry kept a boot and shoe store there. On the opposite side of Norfolk street, on the Convent grounds, there was a rail fence enclosing a field of grain. While the shoemakers were working at Henry’s one day a friend came around and stood in the doorway and engaged in the conversation. His eyes were red, and I guess he had been boozing the night before. This man looked across the street and saw something in the grain field. He asked, “What is that, in the grain?” and then said, “I’m going over to see.” He went over to the field, and came running back with eyes sticking out of his head, and said, “It’s a bear.” Well, one picked up a boot, another a “tree,” someone else a hammer, and they went off after the bear. George Perkins was the only man in the party who had a shot gun. They chased the bear down toward Presant’s mill, up toward the Eramosa bridge, and out to the bush at St. Joseph’s hospital. And do you know, Perkins stepped on the bear. Well, he got so excited that he kicked it and threw down the shot gun.”
“Did they get the bear?” asked the reporter.
“No,” said Mr. McTague, laughing, “it got away.”
“Years afterwards, I asked Perkins if it was true that he threw away the gun and kicked the bear. He laughed and said, “Yes, as true as it is that I am standing here.”
The next time you see the Begging Bear, bear this little story in mind.

Saturday, 28 December 2024

No pickles and no pudding: Merry Xmas 1907, Guelph!

The end of 1907 brought the annual international convention of the Women's Institute to Guelph. Audiences jammed into the lecture hall in Massey Hall on the Ontario Agricultural College (OAC) to hear speakers hold forth on topics of special interest to women. On the morning of 12 December, for example, speakers prescribed proper nourishmen of children, in both mind and body. Miss Aikens of Detroit stated that (Globe, 13 December):
No soothing syrups should be given to babies, and she emphasized the danger of allowing too many people to kiss babies.
This seems like sound advice, especially considering that "soothing syrups" of the era could well contain uncontrolled amounts of narcotics or alcohol. Soothing? Yes. Healthy? Not so much. The prohibition on kissing probably reflects the recent ascendance of the germ theory of disease, on which illnesses were held to be caused by infections of microscopic organisms, a theory that still prevails today.
("Massey Hall and Library, O.A.C.," #173 of the International Stationary Co. series on Guelph, ca. 1910.)

Miss Watson, principal of the Macdonald Institute associated with the OAC, articulated advice particularly a propos of the holiday season:

"Don’t train children to drink tea, coffee, or any other stimulant. Don't teach them to eat highly-seasoned foods, and up to fourteen years anyway forbid pickles and highly-seasoned foods, and forbid rich foods, such as pastry, puddings and cakes.” Miss Watson stated that the time was very opportune for speaking of feeding children, as a great deal of the sickness which followed Christmas among children was due to the stuffing on Christmas day. Instead of giving children plum pudding and mince pie, she suggested that a pretty dessert be prepared, plain, but wholesome, which the children would enjoy.
No soothing syrups, no stimulants, no pickles, no stuffing, no pastries, no cake, and no pie. And no fun.

The Women's Institute was (and remains) an association that advocated for women's issues, founded in 1897 in Stoney Creek by Adelaide Hoodless. Branches quickly spread throughout the Dominion and abroad. Ms. Hoodless was also the prime mover behind the foundation of the Macdonald Institute, which aimed to teach young women skills they would need to run modern households. It was hoped that such training would help to stem the tide of young women leaving rural Canada for its cities, where jobs as bookkeepers, store clerks, telephone operators, and so on, beckoned them away from the farm.

(In fact, it was just at this time that the population of Ontario went from being mostly rural to mostly urban, with more residents living in cities than outside of them.)

Besides domestic issues, the convention included some remarks on the place of women in political life:

Mr. C.C. James ... charged the women to look after the proper training of children, and instead of dabbling in politics, endeavoring to break up men’s meetings or agitating for suffrage, to see that the home life was made as educating as possible.
Ten years later, women gained the right to vote for the first time in Canada.

The postcard craze of the era continued to gain momentum, with many Guelphites sending postcards to touch base during the holiday season. One such card featured a picture of the new Carnegie Library in Guelph, the front of which was featured in an earlier blog post on that structure.

Obviously, this card was not designed to be a holiday card but it could do the job with a suitable message, in this case from "B.P." to Mary in Lifford, Ontario:
The message says:
Guelph Ont, Dec 5th/07 // Dear Mary:— I don’t think I sent you a card like this one before. it is a pretty place both inside and out[.] Wishing you a Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year, B.P
It sounds as though B.P. and Miss Mary Staples of Lifford had been exchanging postcards, a common way for children and adults of the time to see images of places they probably hadn't been and to have fun amassing a collection of their favorite cards. (A hobby that can be carried on today, I should add!)

So, what kind of Xmas did Guelph have in 1907? Was it merry?

From the cooking advice given by Miss Watson, it might seem like the children of the Royal City did not have a good time. However, we learn that some managed to entertain themselves in a time-honored fashion by toboganning down the sidewalk on Neeve street after a big snowfall. Though fun for the participants, the practice did not meet with general approval (Mercury, 17 December):

Naturally some objections were raised, and the boys were asked to keep off the sidewalk, with the result that retorts were made, advising the sojourning of the parties in a land where snow is not known and sleds utterly useless.
Police were summoned and four of the boys appeared before the magistrate, who let them off with a warning and an admonition to have their parents administer justice via a hickory stick. The paper does not record if this was done.

In another sign of times, a group of young women were observed walking through the town in male garb (4 December):

A couple of charming young ladies last night made their debut in that attire, consisting of Christy, trowsers and coat, which is usually conceded to be part of the male make up. The young lady gentlemen were from one of the local hotels and, with their hands in their pockets, curls stuck under Derbys, and chaperoned by a couple of men friends, they made a parade of the main streets to the astonishment of the natives who happened to be abroad and the entertainment of the young men on the street corners. This disguise was not carried so far as to include the wearing of overcoats, and the masqueraders could not have found it pleasant. They were thoroughly chilled.
Presumably, they were not attending the Women's Institute convention. But, although chilly, it does sound somewhat merry.

The weather in December 1907 was generally quite wintery. There was quite a blizzard on the 14th, which blew snow up into high drifts and immobilized the streetcar system for several hours. The street railway prepared and opened up the outdoor rink that it usually operated on Howitt's pond, near the the system's main building. The same site featured change rooms and a toboggan slide.

(The Petrie Rink, Gymnasium and Baths; Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 2014.84.2.)

The team of the Guelph Hockey Club prepared for a new season. Local players worked on their skating legs on the frozen pond at Goldie's Mill. The Royal City rink, at the intersection of Gordon and Wellington streets, had recently been enlarged and was ready for more games and up to 1,600 spectators. (The rink had begun life as the Petrie Athletic Park in 1897, was turned into a cream separator factory in 1901, and then back into a recreational facility earlier in 1907.)

(Tommy Burns, ca. 1912. Courtesy of Library and Archives Canada 3191889.)

Besides winter events, Guelph was also linked, albeit somewhat tenuously, with the world heavyweight title boxing match in London, England, between "Gunner" Moir and Tommy Burns. Burns was born as Noah Brusso in Hannover, Ontario, and became a professional boxer in 1904, adopting the Scottish moniker "Tommy Burns" perhaps for professional reasons. He clearly had a talent for it and became world champion in 1906. On 2 December 1907, he fought British boxer "Gunner" Moir in a title defence. Though Moir was the bigger man with a harder punch, Burns's "ringcraft" served him well and he soundly defeated Moir by a KO in the 10th round.

A film of the whole fight can be seen on YouTube, along with an added commentary track. There is also a video of selected highlights, which is much shorter.

The connection with Guelph? In February, 1907, Burns had been to Guelph to put on an exhibition of boxing at the Royal Opera House with his sparring partner Jimmy Burns of Toronto. Burns was a former resident of Galt, so he was able to drop by there to visit his parents during the outing.

In addition, the Toronto Globe (2 December) reported that Burns sent the following message just before the fight to Alderman Higgins of Guelph, manager of the Royal Opera House: "Am defending the world’s championship against Gunner Moir, and will fight to bring home the money and honors.” So, it seems that Burns retained a connection with the Royal City after his recent visit. No doubt, many Guelphites read the account of his fight with great interest.

("The Bell Organ and Piano Co., Ltd., Factory, Guelph, Ont." published by Valentine & Sons Publishing Co., Ltd., ca. 1905. Courtesy of the Keleher collection. The front of the Royal Hotel can be seen to the right of the factory, facing onto Carden street. Jubilee Park is visible in the foreground, now the site of the VIA station.)

One thing that stands out to anyone reviewing the events of Xmas time in Guelph, 1907, is the number of big fires. On 5 December, a "dangerous" fire broke out in the Royal Hotel, next to the Bell Piano factory on Carden street. The fire started in the cellar and soon seemed to have hold of the entire building. It was said that smoke was soon pouring out every window. Business travelers, with whom the hotel was popular, immediately smashed many of the ground floor windows to eject their trunks and other wares. One man named Tracey had 14 trunks with him, all of which he managed to save in this manner.

A number of women were trapped by the smoke on the third floor. One made ready to throw herself out but was persuaded to wait for a ladder rescue. This was duly accomplished by Assistant Chief John Aitkens of the London fire brigade, who, for whatever reason, happened to be on hand. After the fire was doused, Aitkens went to the cellar to investigate its cause, when he was arrested by a police constable! Happily, he was well known about the town and was quickly released.

Though damage was considerable, no one was seriously hurt.

(The Taylor-Forbes factory, as seen looking northward from the Neeve street bridge, from a real photo postcard dated 1919; courtesy of the Keleher collection. The Guelph standpipe can be seen in the background.)

On 9 December, there was a blaze in a shipping building of the Taylor-Forbes plant on Arthur street. Mr. James Taylor noted smoke pouring from the structure and called it in to the fire department. The fire was quite intense as a pile of seasoned timber in the structure ignited and made for some very dense smoke. It was difficult for the fire fighters to get into the building, so they cut holes in the roof and gable ends to train water on the flames.

The fire was put out in a couple of hours but the company lost quite a bit of finished products, mainly lawn mowers, radiators, and similar items.

Another serious fire occured in St. George's Square in the boot-and-shoe store of "J. Dandeno" on 22 December. Mr. Dandeno had been cleaning up and oiling the floor, a measure taken to keep wooden flooring in good shape. He left a lit lamp on the landing of the stairs when he exited through the rear door. When the door slammed shut, it caused a rush of air that upset the lamp, which tumbled down and set the floor oil on fire. The flames quickly climbed the stairs, threatening to set the whole building—and its neighbors—ablaze.

(East side of St. George's Square, ca. 1910. Joseph Dandeno's shoe store would have been where Alex Stewart's drug store is in this photograph. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2009.32.4536.)

Mrs. Dandeno ran up the stairs, through the flames, to rescue the children, which she was able to do through a rear window, with the assistance of some passers-by. She and two children were slightly burned and treated at the hospital.

The fire brigade had the fire out in about 45 minutes, and managed to save the surrounding buildings from much damage. Still, the Dandeno's losses were about $6,400, only half of which was covered by insurance.

This J. Dandeno was very likely Joseph Dandeno, a local boy who had worked as a piano finisher at Bell's Piano factory since about 1889. Only in the 1908 city directory is he listed as associated with a shoe store, suggesting that he had only recently gone into the trade before the fire struck. Evidently, the loss and shock were enough to prompt Dandeno to move to Providence, Rhode Island, the next year, where he lived for the remainder of his life.

("Photograph, Rotary Club of Guelph, Lionel O'Keeffe, 1921." George Scroggie is standing fifth from the left in the front row. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2014.84.282.)

Despite these serious fires, Guelph escaped a general conflagration. However, it was consumed by an unusual scandal that year. It came to light that month that George Scroggie, the City Treasurer, was collecting two rents for one of the residences that he owned in the city. In brief, Scroggie rented out a modest residence on Durham street to a Mrs. Fisher, an elderly black woman who was described as "a well-known character" (Mercury, 20 December). Mrs. Fisher was destitute and relied to a large degree on the generosity of her friends and neighbors. As such, her rent of $4/month was covered by the City's Relief Committee. However, Mrs. Fisher was also staunchly independent and preferred to pay her own way as much as she could manage. As such, she had been paying some rent money to Scroggie, even though the city covered the full amount.

So, it seemed as though Scroggie was collecting rent twice, once from the city and again (in part) from the destitute Mrs. Fisher. Naturally, when this situation came to general notice, it looked bad for Scroggie. The Relief Committee of the city council investigated and learned the particulars. They learned that Mrs. Fisher was perfectly aware that her rent was paid by the committee but was determined to contribute to it as much as possible. They learned from Scroggie that he was saving the money that Mrs. Fisher paid to him in this way with the idea of remitting it to the city at the end of the year.

Was this odd situation even a matter for the city government? After all, rent for the residence was paid by the committee to Scroggie as per their express arrangement. If Mrs. Fisher wanted to pay him further money out of her own pocket, knowing that her rent was fully covered, perhaps that was simply her affair. However, the committee felt it had to do something, as rumors about the situation had been spreading like wildfire.

When the committee offered to pay Mrs. Fisher the money she had given to Scroggie, and which he had remitted to the city, she refused (Mercury, 24 December):

The amount of these payments, about $20, which Mr. Scroggie has stated his willingness to pay, was offered to her, but she refused point blank to accept it. She is a very eccentric old lady, and independently maintains that she will be dependent upon charity no more than she possibly can.
So, the committee arranged for the funds to put in the hands of a trustee to be used on Mrs. Fisher's behalf when the need arose. This arrangement met the approval of the editor of the Mercury, who remarked that she would certainly need the support before the winter was out.
("Winter Fair Buildings, Guelph." Published by Henry Garner Living Picture Postcard Co., Leister England; posted in 1909. Now the site of the Market square; note the old city hall at the left.)

Since its founding in 1827, Guelph was a central point in local agriculture, a role that was enlarged with the founding of the OAC in 1874. In 1889, the Royal City became the permanent site of the Ontario Provincial Winter Fair, in which the finest live stock, poultry, produce, and other agricultural items were displayed and judged. The year 1907 was no exception, with the Winter Fair building on Carden Street (now the site of the Market square) hosting a panoply of meetings and events.

("Sir Adam Beck," Watercolour, gouache, gum arabic, on ivory, by Gerald Sinclair Hayward, 1902. Courtesy of the Royal Ontario Museum, 993.209.1.)

Perhaps the biggest draw was the speech given by the Hon. Adam Beck. Although the meat of his speech was to encourage Ontario agriculturalists to pay more attention to horse breeding (Beck was a enthusiastic amateur breeder), he could not help but mention his support for the plan to connect the region's cities to a single grid, by which electricity generated at Niagara Falls would be distrubted throughout under the auspices of a government corporation. Educated at the nearby Rockwood Academy, Beck had recently been appointed the first chairman of the Hydro-electric Power Commission, dedicated to this purpose. Guelph, like most cities in the region, was about to vote on by-laws that would commit them to the scheme. Government control, Beck argued, would ensure that the resource was developed and made available with the public interest at heart, rather than as a money-making scheme of private providers. The next month, Guelph, along with almost all municipalities in the region, voted resoundingly in favor.

Despite the success of the Winter Fair, the biggest agricultural news that winter in Guelph was the victory of the OAC stocking judging team at the International Livestock Show in Chicago the previous month. A team of students from the OAC won the overall event there for the third year in a row, which entitled them to take permanent possession of the Spoor Trophy, in the form of a bronze bull. The win was considered a national victory, which I have described in a previous post.

The real photo postcard above shows students from the OAC celebrating their triumph by painting the Blacksmith Fountain in red and white, the OAC colors, during a victory parade. The Blacksmith retained his new livery for the holidays, though it was soon removed by a city crew.
("James Gow," ca. 1880. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, M1991.9.1.149.)

Guelph received an item of sad news during Xmas 1907 as well. Mr. James Gow, described by the Mercury (21 December) as "one of the most lovable men who ever lived in Guelph," passed away at his residence in Windsor, Ontario (Mercury, 21 December). Born in 1827 in Glasgow, Scotland, Gow had emigrated to Canada in 1851, settling first in Hamilton but then moving to a farm in Eramosa. In town, he struck up a partnership with Peter Gow (not a relation or, at least, an immediate one), in the form of P. & J. Gow, tanners and leather merchants. In 1866, the partnership was dissolved and Gow had a storehouse built on Huskisson street (now Wyndham street south) to carry on the business in his own name. However, he was then appointed to the office of Collector of the Inland Revenue in Guelph.

Ten years later, he was transferred to the office at Windsor and then made Inspector of the Windsor District and Dominion Inspector of Distilleries, an appointment he held until retirement in 1902. Although he had been away from Guelph for some 30 years, we are told that his inspections brought him regularly to his old haunts and that he kept in close contact with old friends and family members who remained in the Royal City.

On the whole, it seems that Xmas and New Year's in Guelph in 1907 was merry enough, though not remarkably so. It was neither especially memorable but not without notable news and events. Perhaps the season is epitomized by the following item from the Mercury (28 December):

Drank 21 beers

This is the story which is going the rounds today. The employees of a certain factory last night decided to test the drinking capacity of one of their number—a colored gent. Accordingly they hied themselves to the nearest dispensary of warming drink, and then this man of mighty thirst got on the outside of 21 beers—not small beers, or short beers, or ordinary beers, but 21 big pint schooners of lager. He walked home afterwards but was not at work today.
No doubt, speakers with the Women's Institute would not have approved but such were the spirits of Xmas in Guelph in 1907.

Merry Xmas and Happy 2025, Guelph!

Sunday, 10 November 2024

Speedwell stations: The Prison Farm's forgotten train stops

Some time ago, Bob Keleher kindly loaned me what remained of his father's—Jim Keleher—postcard collection, which was quite extensive. Among the many cards of note was a real-photo postcard with the label, "Guelph Hospital, D.S.C.R., March 1919" written in pencil on the back.
("Guelph Hospital, D.S.C.R., March 1919," real photo postcard. Courtesy of the Jim Keleher collection.)

My first thought was that this notation was rather mysterious: There is certainly no hospital depicted in the image. "D.S.C.R." meant nothing to me at that point. So, I filed the image away with a mental note to revisit it sometime later.

I came across it again recently. Having become better acquainted with the Guelph scene of the early 20th century in the meantime, I recognized what I was looking at. It is a view taken from the concrete bridge over the Eramosa River at the Speedwell train station, or stations. The D.S.C.R. stands for "Department of Soldiers' Civil Re-establishment," the governemnt agency in charge of demobilizating soldiers from the Great War. They ran the Speedwell Hospital, a facility to help returned soldiers to recuperate and prepare for civilian life once more, that was formerly the "Prison Farm" or, later, the Ontario Reformatory.

This image is interesting for a number of reasons. First, it depicts the Speedwell train stations, which is the first pictures of them that I have seen. The careful viewer will observe that there are several structures in view on the left side of the picture. The closest one is, I believe, the station built by the Toronto Suburban Railway (TSR), a private railway that provided a regular, electrified streetcar service between Toronto and Guelph (as one of its several routes). The line opened in 1917 and ran until 1931.

The TSR had a flag stop across the Eramosa from the Reformatory. It's not clear that this connection was used much by people to go to and from the Prison. However, it does seem that the TSR did a good business hauling milk from the Reformatory's dairy herd to Toronto. Such "milk runs" from local towns to the Big Smoke were a regular part of its business.

(Detail of "Guelph Hospital" postcard above. The TSR's Speedwell station is in the right foreground, while behind it from this perspective stands the CPR's Speedwell station. A farmhouse and barn are visible at the top of the cliff.)

The TSR's Speedwell station is certainly a modest building. But, it was clearly more than a simple shed, as attested by the chimney rising from its back wall. The presence of a stove is a sure sign that passengers would be treated to a little warmth in the winter months. Posts with guy poles can be seen at the front of the station (behind it from our perspective) and running off to the right, which provided the trains with power.

("Canadian Pacific Railway Co., Station. View of a little flag station on the CPR double track east of Smiths Falls;" courtesy of Ingenium Archives, Aubrey Mattingly Transportation Collection, MAT-06233. Though not a perfect match, this picture gives us some impression of what a flag stop of the era would look like at the front.)

I do not know what became of this station. It may well have been sold and moved elsewhere when the TSR was wound up.

The second building, right behind the TSR station in the image, would be the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) station. The TSR and CPR tracks ran parallel at that point, although they intersect away to the right where the CPR line (actually, the Guelph Junction Railway but operated by the CPR, even to this day) crosses the Eramosa while the TSR veers west to remain parallel the river.

The CPR station was built at the bridge crossing to the Reformatory in 1912, when the latter institution opened. It was a flag station, meaning that trains stopped there only when there were people or things to pick up or drop off. In the CPR timetable for 30 May 1915, the name of this stop is given as "Sturdee," presumably after Sir Frederick Charles Doveton Sturdee, a British Admiral who had recently led a successful battle against a German naval squadron in the south Atlantic. However, the name failed to stick, perhaps because the CPR already had a "Sturdee" station near Glacier in British Columbia. Instead, the 31 October 1915 timetable applies the name "Speedwell." How this name arose is not clear, although its proximity to the Eramosa River, then usually known as the "Eramosa branch of the Speed" may have been decisive.

Other structures of some interest can be seen in the picture. Above the CPR station, a house can be seen along the crest of the ridge. A barn or outbuilding is visible a little ways to its left. A farm of 32 acres, belonging to Arnold Sanders, is shown in that location in the 1908 Wellington County Atlas. The portion of the farm above the ridge, which had not been added to the Prison Farm property, was apparently still in operation.

Some of these structures can be located in a site plan of the Reformatory dated to 1921 (detail above). Curiously, the CPR's Speedwell station is indicated on the plan but not the TSR's station, although both sets of tracks are present. Did this section of the map derive from a time before the TSR station was built?

Near the centre of the postcard image, the Royal City's standpipe can be seen poking up from Grange hill on the horizon. Much of the water for the city came through a pipeline from the Arkell springs in Puslinch. The pipeline ran parallel to the CPR tracks, buried about 5m away from the side near the cliff.

Speaking of water, the perceptive viewer will have noted quite a bit of it in the foreground, apparently lapping at the back of the TSR station. Guelph suffered quite a deluge on 18 March 1919, which rendered the Dundas bridge impassible, thus sundering the city from the Agricultural College on the hill. From the look of the postcard image above, it appears that the Eramosa nearly flooded out the railway tracks at Speedwell station.

("Prison Farm"; Postcard by International Stationary Co., ca. 1915; author's collection.)

It is quite possible that the same event was recorded in another postcard, from nearly the reverse angle. Unfortunately, this other card does not show either of the railway stations.

Perhaps the biggest recorded flood to affect the Speedwell stations was the great washout of 1921. On 10 July, only days after Guelph's most disastrous fire, a massive thunderstorm roared over the town at night, unleashing a torrential downpour accompanied by hail stones the size of walnuts! The downtown was quickly submerged (London Advertiser, 11 July 1921):

The storm commenced shortly after 11 o’clock last night, and for two hours raged with a severity never witnessed here before. Without hardly a moment’s cessation the sky was brilliantly illuminated with vivid flashes of lightning during the entire storm, and deep thunder roared continuously. At midnight the downtown streets were several feet deep with water, and firemen and city employees worked up to their hips trying to keep the watermains open.
At Speedwell, rainwater poured over the cliff above the station in sheets, pushing boulders down the slope and inundating the train tracks. The water pipe burst and disgorged another torrent of the wet stuff into the scene. Unfortunately, a freight train from Hamilton, approaching Speedwell on the CPR line, ran into a section of track that had been undermined by the flood. The locomotive derailed, its tender overturned into the ditch, while the following car ended up at a 90 degree angle. No one was badly injured, however.

Naturally, hundreds of Guelphites made the trip to see the wreckage as it was being cleaned up. No photos of it have come my way, although there must be some out there.

(Locations of the former CPR and TSR Speedwell stations located on a current map of the former Reformatory grounds. Image courtesy Google Maps.)

Having survived this mini Noachian deluge, among other watery assaults, the TSR station burned to the ground on 12 November 1926, succumbing perhaps to its own heating stove. It was, to my knowledge, not replaced. Perhaps, if and when the former Reformatory grounds become a National Urban Park, the former presence of these most structures will be memorialized.


Actually, the Library & Archives Canada has a file entitled "The Toronto Suburban Railway Company - Lands and Leases - Matters In Connection With Speedwell Station" (1548596). Perhaps this file contains images or descriptions of the TSR Speedwell station. Next time I'm in the Capital City, I may have to have a look. Of course, if you have seen this material, let us know about it in the comments!