Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Saturday, 17 December 2022

Merry Xmas and Happy New Year, 1914

The postcard shows a lovely, summery scene featuring the Blacksmith Fountain in St. George's Square. The streetcars carry passengers in their summer attire, who are probably happy that the open sides let in cooling breezes. Perhaps the driver of the oncoming car secretly hopes to apply the made-in-Guelph cow-catcher on the front to scoop an errant pedestrian out of the way.
("St. George's Square, Guelph, Canada," ca. 1910. Published by the International Stationary Company, Picton, Ontario.)

Although postcard publishers tended to prefer summer photography, postcards were sent all year round, and this card was actually dispatched from Puslinch to Guelph on 31 December 1914, when the Royal City and its surroundings had be socked in under repeated snowfalls.

Addressed to Mrs. James D. McPherson on York Road in Guelph, the message relates to the holiday season:

Dear Jim & Belle:—
We got the photos and you could not have sent us a better Christmas box. Glad to hear baby is growing so well.
Wishing you all
A Happy New Year
Aunt Flora
Of course, the year 1914 was an unusual one in Guelph. The Great War had begun a few months earlier and Canadians were still unsure what it would amount to. Many young men had left with the Canadian Expeditionary Force and were still in Britain training for combat. Herbert Philp wrote a letter home to his family, which they subsequently published in the Mercury (24 December), under the ironic title "Salisbury mud a wonderful thing." In it, Philp speaks eloquently of the frustration of the contingent:
For, despite the eagerness of practically every man in the contingent to be "over the way," we are still wallowing about in England's mud.
Philp explains that the conditions were fine and dry on their arrival, and they pitched their tents in a "slight valley." Then down came the English rains, leaving their modest dwellings with:
ambitious rivulets flowing either through them or snuggling close to their sides. Not a tent but contained a pool of water.
When the weather let up, the tents were moved up slope but the cookhouse remained down in the valley, meaning that everyone had to line up there three times a day, in whatever weather, to get their food. The result was frequenty cold tea and soup and soggy bread at meal times.
(Detail of "Herbert William Philp," no date; Courtesy of William Ready Division, Archives and Research Collections, McMaster University Library, via The Canadian Encyclopedia.)

Philp finishes his letter thus, "But, so far as excitement and entertainment are concerned, Salisbury Plains still runs a close second to the grave."

(Herbert Philp's many and eloquent letters home throughout the Great War have been collected by Ed Butts in the book, "The Withering Disease of Conflict: A Canadian Soldier's Chronicle of the First World War." It is available from the Guelph Historical Society and I highly recommend it!)

War news was a mixed bag. Accounts of terrible battles were featured, but the general tone conveyed the sense that the Allies had the upper hand and German defeat in the near future was still a possibility, though not by Christmastime.

Rumours of German attacks on or in Canada circulated. For example, a national article printed in the Mercury (1 December) related a scheme set in motion for German forces to take over Quebec City. A concrete structure made the previous year near St. Anne de Beaupré by a German movie crew in 1913 was thought to be a bunker intended as a weapons cache for a surprise attack launched by sea. Luckily, British naval superiority had frustrated this plan, it was thought.

The many Canadians of German descent in the region also caused concern. A letter to the Editor (11 December) attempts to address rumours of a German-Canadian fifth column thus:

Editor of the Mercury.
Dear Sir: Who are the meddlers who have been reporting to Guelph authorities that secret meetings are being held in Morriston by the Germans and German-Canadians?
There are no secret meetings held in Morriston to my knowledge. Perhaps the meddlers had reference to the revival meetings, held in the Evangelical church, which are held annually. These meetings are not secret, but sacred, and people of all nationalities are welcome to attend.
Are such meddlars as these throughout the Dominion interested in uplifting our Canada? No, they are too ignorant to realize the harm they are doing their own village and community, also their own country, Canada.
Yours respectully,
A life-long Mercury reader.
As ever, conflict breeds suspicion and mistrust, well-founded or not. Locally, misplaced suspicion of German- and Catholic Canadians resulted in the Guelph Novitiate Raid of 1918.
("Evangelical Ch., Morriston." Courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives A2009.124, ph. 31342.)

Compared to previous years, the Xmas shopping ads in the Mercury seemed subdued. Still, they were far from absent. The D.E. Macdonald & Bros. shop urged Guelphites to "Hurry up! Only two more Saturdays before Christmas" (11 December). Extensive gift suggestions for him, her, and baby were provided, along with an illustration of Santa Claus hauling a prodigious sack of goodies.

Similarly, Moore and Armstrong noted that there were only nine shopping days left (14 December): "If you have not got the Christmas Spirit yet, you will have it in large measure when you get to the White House," that is, their store on Wyndham street.

Their illustration also showed Santa Claus carting a super-sized sack of gifts. One can understand the look of relief on the jolly old elf's face at the sight of the very wide chimnney before him!

If nothing else, Santa's message was to go big or go home, or both!

Even Santa Claus was not unaffected by the conflict in Europe. This cartoon shows how low German Kultur had sunk with the war (22 December):

The caption says, "An act of barbarism: Not only are the Germans firing on the Red Cross and flags of truce, but they are rendering the work of Santa Claus difficult and hazardous."

Being magical, Santa had the means to rectify the situation, as shown in a subsequent cartoon (26 December):

Here, Santa deploys what I assume is a stocking full of doorknobs to give Kaiser Bill a jolly good thrashing.

People on the home front carried on. The Guelph Musical Society held a parade downtown on 9 December. The performance was marred somewhat when large bulldog followed the squad down Wyndham street. The drummer found that the dog would bite the drumsticks whenever he raised them to beat the kettle drum. Fearing that he might be "minus a wing" if he provoked the dog further, the drummer ceased drumming and the band had to proceed without their bass.

The animals did not have it all their own way. A bear cub named "Teddy" had been kept as a curiousity at the American Hotel on Wynhdam street for most of the year. Having reached the size of 200 lbs, Teddy was sent Bernard Schario, the butcher, who turned him into roasts and steaks as a holiday feast for the hotel residents (24 December).

The skating season took shape. With the cold weather, Guelphites were soon skating on the pond above Goldie Mill. Skating also began indoors at the Royal City Rink (formerly Petrie's Athletic Park and Rink) at Wellington and Gordon streets.

(Detail of "The Petrie Rink, Gymnasium and Baths," 1898. Courtesy of Guelph Museums 2014.84.2.)

Curiously, the street railway company decided not to open their usual skating rink on Howitt's pond, on the basis that it would not be "a paying proposition" (18 December). In previous years, the rink behind the streetcar barns on Waterloo road had been run as an attraction to get people onto the streetcar system in winter.

Perhaps they had too much competition. The City had decided to fund a rink on the grounds of the Guelph Collegiate Institute on Paisley street. A room in the basement was even made available for people to put on their skates (22 December). Perhaps this level of comfort and style attracted skaters who might have been inclined to travel to the streetcar rink in previous years.

("Collegiate Institute, Guelph, Ont." Postcard printed for Waters Bros., Guelph, ca. 1910. Courtesy of Guelph Museums 2009.20.1.)

The Royal City Rink was also home to Guelph's very first NHL team! Yes, Guelph entered a team in the 1914–15 Northern Hockey League senior series (21 December). Although some of the players trying out for the team were from out of town, lots of local boys turned out to show their stuff, including Allan, Anderson, Stricklerr, Greer, Hayes, Spalding, Ogg, King, Mowat, and Bulgin.

The side lost their first exhibition game against the Dutchmen of Waterloo (26 December). Although the Guelphites mainly acquitted themselves well, the superior size of the Seagramites gave them a distinct advantage, resulting in a 5–2 win for the visitors.

Another tilt against the same team was arranged for the first regular season game. This time, the Royal City skaters were better prepared. The result was a "wild sort of affair," beginning with a dispute over whether one of the Guelph players was a professional—strictly forbidden! The play was very physical and Referee Knell of Berlin (Ontario) "had his hands full."

The police had to be called in to break up a melee after the crowd joined in an on-ice altercation in the second half. Tied at the end of regulation play, the game went ten minutes into overtime before Guelph's centre, McGregor, put the home team up 7–6.

At the Reformatory (or "Prison Farm"), the provincial government announced plans to install an abattoir on site (31 December). The Ontario prison system required 600–700 tons of meat annually in its operations, which was obtained from private butchers. Building an abbatoir at the prison meant that prisoners could be employed to perform the butchering at a lower cost than private butchers, saving the system some $50k a year. In addition, prisoners would learn skills that they could use to obtain regular employment as meat dressers in private industry after release.

("Ontario Reformatory Guelph, Jan. 1915 The Abattoir." Courtesy of Guelph Museums 2014.84.1276, p. 59, ph. 3.)

A final point of interest came with the annual, municipal elections. First, there was some talk of not holding the elections at all, in view of the war situation (17 December). But, the election went ahead as usual.

Besides electing a Mayor, Aldermen (Councilors), and other officials, citizens of Guelph were asked to weigh in on the following by-law, "Are you in favor of municipal votes for married women?" (8 December). The 'Women's Franchise plebisite' was carried by a majority of (male) voters 1140 to 838 (5 January 1915).

Women's groups had long campaigned for women's suffrage in Ontario. In the Edwardian era, efforts tended to focus on municipal voting. In 1914, the Canadian Suffrage Association, led by Dr. Margaret Gordon, had lobbied many Ontario municipalities to hold referenda on extending votes to women. It appears that Guelph was one of 33 municipalities where the effort met with success, albeit for married women only.

Women's role in the Great War led to further support for the cause. In 1917, Ontario women finally gained the right to vote in provincial elections.

In many respects, the holiday season of 1914 was like those of previous years. Even so, as the prospect of the end of the conflict in Europe receded, it was clear that times were changing and that the New Year would bring on many new challenges.

Sunday, 30 December 2018

Xmas at Tiffany's, 1910

The Xmas season is upon us once again and memories of times past return to mind. Some of these glances back are prompted by ephemera like postcards. Below is picture of an Xmas message printed on a festive greeting card:


In some ways, the card is easy to understand. It conveys a common message, wishes for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, accompanied by picture of candles and festive plants in the shape of a wreath. It also gives the names "Mr. and Mrs. Thomas R. Logan," who are presumably the senders of the good wishes, and the address 12 Tiffany St. East in Guelph. Although it is not a postcard nor a folding Christmas card of the common type, it seems straightforward enough.

The location of 12 Tiffany Street East is easy enough to find with Google Street View:



The house is an example of the Queen Anne revival style, built in the late 1800s, likely at about the same time as its two neighbours closer to Woolwich Street.

However, Mr. & Mrs. Thomas R. Logan remain something of an enigma. No Guelph address book that I have consulted lists them, and their name never appears as residents of 12 Tiffany Street East. The card does have the text "$1.00 per dozen" written in the bottom right corner, suggesting that it may be a salesman's sample. Perhaps Mr. & Mrs. Logan were printers and this card is an advertisement.

So, instead of discussing the Logans, we can discuss Tiffany Street. According to Irwin (2008), the street was named after George Tiffany, the man who carried out the first survey of the Guelph town plot in 1827 at the direction of its founder, John Galt.

George Sylvester Tiffany was born in 1805 in Schohaire, New York and moved with his family to Upper Canada in 1812. He studied to become a land surveyor and the job with the Canada Company in Guelph must have been one of his first gigs (Tiffany 1901, pp. 45–46). Apparently not satisfied with this profession, he studied law and became a lawyer and relocated to Ancaster in 1836. During the Upper Canada rebellion of 1837, Tiffany went to Toronto under the command of Sir Allan Napier McNab to put down the revolt. He later became a reeve and then the second mayor of Hamilton.

A.E. Byerly (1935, p. 73) points out that, in 1836, Tiffany married Eliza Ann Strange, daughter of Henry Strange, a former governor of Demerera, West Indies, and who was an important figure in early Guelph history and an occupant of the Priory for a time. He went on to found Strange's Mills, now Rockwood, near Guelph.

Both men were immortalized in Guelph's street names. As with with their namesakes, Tiffany street and Strange street intersected. Strange street was the segment of what is now Dufferin Street, reaching from Kerr Street to Clarence Street, parallel to the river. Tiffany Street East spanned the block from Woolwich to Strange Streets. See the map below.


(The intersection of Tiffany Street East and Strange Street, inside the oval, Wellington County Atlas 1877.)

Both streets have since been changed. As Irwin (2008) notes, street names were not much regulated in Guelph's early years, resulting in some peculiarities. For example, Strange Street continued Mill Street from the south and was itself continued by Dufferin Street to the north, making three streets out of one continuous roadway that spanned only a few blocks. In 1907, the Post Office Department threatened to delay door-to-door delivery until confusing street names and numberings were sorted out. Several streets were rationalized in 1910. At this time, Mary Street, which continued Tiffany Street from Strange Street to the Speed River, was eliminated in favor of more Tiffany Street East.

However, it was not until 1956 that Strange Street was eliminated in favour of Dufferin Street. The name Strange Street can still be seen engraved in the sidewalk at the intersection of Dufferin and Powell Streets.


In view of the extension of Tiffany Street East in 1910, it seemed appropriate to look into what was happening in Guelph during Christmas time of that year.

The year 1910 was an important one for several Guelph institutions. The Armouries on Huskisson Street (now Wyndham Street South) were completed. Construction began on the Ontario Reformatory, then commonly known as the Prison Farm, on York Road just east of town. Today, its is known as the York Lands Green Hub.

However, perhaps the biggest change was the arrival of Niagara power.

Before its adoption, electricity in Ontario was typically provided by small, local outfits, either local utilities or generators purchased by companies to run their factories. However, with the development of large hydropower generating stations such as those at Niagara Falls, there was a considerable push to establish what later became known as "the Grid", that is, a publicly-owned, province-wide system of electricity generation and distribution. This effort was led by Adam Beck, a graduate of Rockwood Academy, who was later knighted for his efforts. The chief advantage of this system was to provide electricity broadly across the province, in abundance, and cheaply.


(Sir Adam Beck, as Mayor of London, 1902; Courtesy London Room Photograph Archives - PG F191.)

Niagara power was first connected to Guelph's electricity grid in September of 1910, and adopted industrially by the Taylor-Forbes plant in November. The transition did not go smoothly at first. On 4 December, a generator at the City's Light and Heat Commission (L&HC) blew out, leaving the residential area of Guelph in darkness. Manager John Heeg explained that the strain of serving the extra demand for lighting at the annual Winter Fair had proved too much for the Commission's ancient generators (Mercury, 5 December). For some years, in anticipation of Niagara power, the City had ceased to upgrade its own equipment and was now paying the piper.

The residential lights went out again the next night as another old generator bit the dust (Mercury, 6 December). Manager Heeg repeated his previous explanation. Also, he promised to expedite work on getting the new power substation up and running, which would allow the city to access enough Niagara power to make up for the shortfall in expired generators.

Of course, this work was tricky, as the substation had to transform electricity transmitted at 2,200 volts to 100 volts and 60 Hz, which was the new standard for domestic use. Furthermore, the new power configuration would mean that many people's old fans and other equipment would no longer function, since they were designed for the 125 Hz power previously provided by the city. Still, some power would be better than no power in mid-December.

Manager Heeg also urged the good citizens of Guelph to moderate their demand for electricity so that the remaining equipment might survive until Niagara power could be brought fully to bear.

Unfortunately, the Royal City's power woes continued to mount. On 8 December, the lights went out again although this time on Wyndham Street and in many of the city's factories. Blackouts continued each evening. On 10 December, the lights went out three times!

Complaints were beginning to mount and Samuel Carter, Commissioner of the L&HC, gave a statement to the press (Mercury, 12 December): The City continued to experience difficulties with its ancient generators. Furthermore, Guelphites had not moderated their demand for electricity. If anything, demand continued to increase.

The LH&C had pressed its new substation into service to meet the emergency. However, the new equipment had not been properly checked out and broken in, and so failed after only a few hours of operation. The LH&C pressed its reserve generators into service. Alas, these also failed to perform. These generators had been exposed to a lot of dust as a result of an earlier fire in the substation and their bearings quickly seized up. Five out of the city's six generators were now out of commission.

Then, for the coup de grâce, the power feed from Niagara failed. The cause of this disconnection was not entirely clear, although speculation was that high winds in the Niagara region were playing havoc with the power lines there (Mercury, 14 December 1910). Adam Beck assured Ontarians that these glitches would be worked out and, after a few days, the juice did seem to flow consistently (Mercury, 19 December 1910). The Royal City's factories continued to hum and its businesses were able to carry out their Christmas trade even after dark.

Many seasonal items were available for the delectation of Guelph shoppers. The D.E. Macdonald store on Macdonnell Street featured "everything in Xmas presents for everybody," especially Christmas furs. C.W. Kelly's music store had a deal on Victor & Berliner's "Victrola" gram-o-phone record players plus many records to play on them. The Bond Hardware store offered a wide selection of sleighs.

Perhaps the best gift notion was proposed by the Gowdy Bros. company on the Market Square, which placed the ad below in the Mercury's Christmas extra issue:


Who wouldn't want a ton of coal for Christmas? In an era when houses were often heated by coal stoves and furnaces, the connotation of receiving Lehigh and Scranton's anthracite from St. Nick would have been different than it is today. (In fact, coal was only just becoming a punitive gift at the time.)

Of course, there remained the problem of what to get for the person who has everything. In this case, the Guelph School of Telegraphy in St. George's Square had the perfect suggestion (Mercury, 21 December 1910):

Give your son or daughter a course in telegraph operating for Xmas. It will be an everlasting reminder and benefit to them.
If the gift card were spelled out in Morse code, the recipient would have to take the course to truly appreciate it.

For provident souls who had done their shopping, Griffin's Opera House on Wyndham street had a special entertainment treat in store (Mercury, 19 December 1910). For a warm up, they had three great reels of moving pictures straight from the Edison, Essanay & Selig factories. After that came the Thaten Duo, featuring real Holland wooden shoe dancing and singing, straight from Rotterdam! For versimilitude, the act featured backdrops of quaint scenes from old Holland, presumably including dykes and windmills.

I like to think that the act looked something like this:



Finally, patrons would be amazed at the Kols Brothers, vaudeville contortionists widely known as the Human Serpents!

As today, turkey featured prominently in plans for the holiday season. Perhaps mindful of what happened to Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickins' "A Christmas Carol," J.W. Lyon, then President of the Board of the Radial Railway (the streetcar) gave each married man among its employees a turkey for Christmas (Mercury, 22 December 1910). The single men each received a box of cigars instead. Clearly, cooking a turkey was more than could be expected of any bachelor.

The Mercury also contained some more surprising, turkey-related news (22 December 1910):

Jarvis, Ont., Dec. 22—The body found in a barrel in Montreal yesterday labelled "turkeys" was that of Matthew Johnston, caretaker of the Presbyterian church here. He was buried November 18th, and when the grave was opened this morning, the body was found missing. The casket had been cut and the corpse dragged out. John McSorley, formerly a medical student and eccentric character, is held here by the police.
Apparently, Mr. McSorley's eccentricities included resurrectionism, that is, digging up fresh corpses to sell to medical schools for doctor training. Montreal was a frequent destination for the proceeds of this practice (Belyea, 2016), although shipping "turkeys" all the way from Jarvis seems exceptional.

What Guelphites of the day or you, dear reader, should make of these two, turkey-related tales I leave for you to determine.

Happy holidays!

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.