Bee-coming a college: Beekeeping and the Apiculture Building at the OAC

On 27 June 2018, Guelph officially became a "bee city". The distinction is applied by Bee City Canada to cities that make specific efforts to offer refuge to bees. Amongst items bestowed on the insects is a bee condo now placed on the green roof of the new City Hall.

This designation does not mean that the Royal City has no previous history with bees. Quite the contrary, they have always been an important part of the local fauna, although not always to the comfort of the citizens, as illustrated by this incident described in the Mercury (25 August 1932):

Swarm of bees caused plenty of excitement for citizens on downtown streets yesterday
Rampaging insects settle on motor car and battle with owner
Cause traffic trouble

Excitement galore was provided for shoppers on the lower Wyndham Street section of the city yesterday afternoon, at about four o’clock, when a swarm of bees, escaped from a hive in the city, made matters rather interesting for well on toward an hour before the rampaging insects were finally subdued.
The swarm materialized literally out of a blue sky and was first noticed at the Wyndham-Macdonnell Street intersection at the south-east corner. The bees were apparently without their queen leader and appeared to be headed for nowhere in particular.

Citizens tried to wave the bees away with their hats but to no avail and were forced into retreat.

The bees then commenced to mill about in the centre of the street and as they kept buzzing around in circle, at about a height of four or five feet from the pavement, they caused no little consternation among motorists.

Some amusing sights were witnessed as automobiles drove along the street and headed into the bees, before the drivers realized the trouble ahead. Then, there was wild ducking, sudden swerves of the machines and made twisting of handles to close the windows. Traffic was more or less demoralized for a time.

Finally, the swarm settled on a hydrant on the south side of the street and the excitement quieted down. Some one sent for help from the Apiary Department of the O.A.C., and Dr. E. J. Drew came down to clear up the situation.

No queen bee was available to lure the insects back to their hive so it was finally necessary to put them to sleep and so ended about an hour of interesting amusement.

How fortunate for Guelphites that they had an apiarist they could call in for just such an emergency!

In fact, it was not just good fortune. The Ontario Agricultural College (OAC) just up the hill had been closely connected to bees since before its inception. Indeed, the OAC was the only school in Canada to have an entire building dedicated the bees, namely the Apiculture Building. This building can be seen in the postcard below, mailed in 1945:

The postcard was produced by the F.H. Leslie company of Niagara Falls, and features a correction to the caption, which mistakenly read "Horticulture" when first printed.

The Apiculture Building was constructed in 1919–1920. In spite of its post-war date, I would say it belongs to the Edwardian Classical style of architecture, with a simplified, boxy shape, hipped roof, olde-tyme 6-over-9 windows, all decorated with a strong Flemish bond brick pattern, arches and keystones over the first-floor windows, and a projecting entranceway. I wonder if the arches over the windows, particularly on the front face, are meant to evoke beehives.

(The newly opened Apiculture Building, O.A.C. Courtesy of the Toronto Public Library, TS-2-125-GO-254.)

The OAC Review (Jan. 1920; v. 32, n. 5, p. 228): provides some physical details:

It is built of red brick, two storeys high with stone basement. The dimensions are 64 ft. 6 in. x 47 ft. 3 in. The basement will be specially insulated for wintering bees. Laboratories for practical and scientific work and class-rooms will occupy the two main floors. ... The sum of $40,000 was voted for its erection.

The new structure was apparently the first one in North America to be dedicated to the study of beekeeping (Stead 2002, p. 23). It certainly speaks to the importance that the OAC attached to the subject.

Still, the new structure did not impress the pants off of everybody. Morley Pettit, who had been head of the Apiculture Department at the OAC from 1908 until 1917, praised it as "fairly presentable" and noted the trouble he had experienced in trying to get an Apiculture Building for the campus on his watch (OAC Review 1921, v. 35. n. 4, pp. 125–126):

When the federal grant to agriculture first began to loosen the purse strings of the Ontario Department of Agriculture, I was naturally one of the first ones to ask for a building, having a rapidly growing department and no building at all. We were voted the magnificent sum of $8,000.00. When the most modest plans I could draw called for $16,000.00 the whole project fell flat, and the Apiculture Department had to struggle on until a little later it cost four times that amount to put up a building and then some.

However, Pettit did allow that the new building was much better than the basement of the Macdonald Institute, where the Apiculture Department was previously housed.

As noted above, the College's association with beekeeping went back to its foundation—even earlier, in fact. The notion of establishing an agricultural college in Canada had been kicking around for a number of years but received new impetus with Confederation in 1867. In 1868, John Carling, the the Commissioner of Agriculture in the Macdonald government of Ontario, called for a report about establishing such a college in Ontario ("The Agricultural College," Toronto Globe, 2 July 1904). The task of making the report was given to Reverend William F. Clarke, then the pastor of the Congregational Church of Guelph.

Rev. Clarke was an obvious choice to do the job. Born in Coventry, England in 1824, the son of a Congregationalist minister, he emigrated to Canada by 1837 and attended the Congregational College of British North America in Toronto (Cochrane 1893, p. 337). He was the pastor of the Guelph church from 1860–1872 and must have liked it since he later retired to the Royal City.

(Reverend William F. Clarke, from Cochrane 1893, p. 337.)

Moreover, he was very involved in regional agriculture. He founded and worked for several agricultural journals, including the Canada Farmer, Ontario Farmer, and the Rural Canadian. He was particularly interested in beekeeping: he was editor of The American Bee Journal of Chicago for two years and was a founder of the Guelph Central Bee-Keepers’ Association in 1886. That same year, he published the monograph "A Bird's-Eye View of Bee-Keeping."

To fulfill his errand, Rev. Clarke visited two state agricultural colleges, in Massachusetts and Michigan. His report was submitted in 1870 and recommended the establishment of an Agricultural College in Ontario, along similar lines to the American institutions with some local adjustments. A site in Mimico was selected initially, apparently for political reasons as conditions there were not suited the needs of an agriculture institute. As fortune would have it, a timely change in government brought about a change of heart and Frederick Stone's farm south of Guelph was purchased in 1873.

Rev. Clarke was appointed rector of the College while one Henry McCandless was hired from Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, as President. Classes began on 1 May 1874. However, McCandless proved inadequate to the task and a salacious scandal soon broke out. McCandless was accused of being an out-of-touch tyrant, unable to discipline unruly students and issuing foolish directives from his ivory tower office. For his part, McCandless complained of politically motivated staff appointments and impugned the honour of some of the female staff. He accused Rev. Clarke of flogging rhubarb roots to the College at an “exorbitant price” and of playing cards with the students. The details aside, the scandal caused Rev. Clarke to resign in protest. An investigation cleared Rev. Clarke and the staff of the College, whereupon McCandless left his position. Affairs were afterwards placed on a more even keel.

In any event, Rev. Clarke gave the College lectures in apiculture until 1895 (OAC Review; June 1928, v. 40. n. 10 p. 378). What these lectures were like is not clear, although a later account gives a cryptic hint as to the "many humorous incidents" associated with them (OAC Review; Nov. 1921, v. 34. n. 3 p. 90). Perhaps students were nervous about handling the insects. Perhaps Rev. Clarke demonstrated the notorious "beard of bees." Whatever the case, the lectures seem to have been memorable.

Subsequent apiculturalists developed the beekeeping program. In particular, Morley Pettit, quoted above, built the program and made a serious case for a dedicated building. Although he left before his intention was realized, it seems that the stature of apiculture and the presence of the Apiculture Building on campus owed much to his efforts.

As Sejpesteijn (1987, p. 118) points out, the Apiculture Building also helped to define a new space on the campus. Previously, campus buildings had been sited around what is now Johnston Green. Now, the Apiculture Building, the Field Husbandry Building (now Zavitz Hall) and the Raithby House began to define another common, open space to the south, now known as Branion Plaza.

The former location of the Apiculture Building can be ascertained by overlapping a campus map from ca. 1963 (the "Federated Colleges Visitors' Guide") with a satellite photo of Branion Plaza from Google Maps. See below.

In this image, a semi-transparent detail from the campus map is superimposed on the colour satellite image. The maps were aligned by superimposing buildings common to both, including Zavitz Hall, the Hutt Building, the Bullring, and the Richards Building. The location of the Apiculture Building is picked out with a white diamond just right of the "University Centre" label. The comparison reveals that the Apiculture Building stood at the northern corner of what is now the entrance to the University Centre from Branion Plaza.

The little Apiculture Building was eventually doomed by progress. The formation of the University of Guelph in 1964 brought with it a push to enlarge and modernize the campus. With many new departments and colleges, it needed bigger facilities. In keeping with its new, university status, it was to look less rural and more urban and up-to-date.

As part of this development, the main entrance to the University was to be located away from the Gordon and College streets to a "mall" leading north from Stone Road (Mercury, 10 July 1972). This mall would cross the South Ring Road and end at an imposing University Centre, the fulcrum of the new institution. The Apiculture Building stood in the way and was demolished in June 1972. University President William Winegard regarded the demolition as unfortunate but necessary:

University President W.C. Winegard admits that of the 13 buildings originally selected for oblivion 10 years ago, loss of the Apiculture Building alone can be lamented. “It was a functional building serving a purpose, but to leave it would have changed our plans for the campus entrance off Stone Rd.” Dr. Winegard said.

Zavitz Hall, also slated for demolition, was later saved.

Though the Apiculture Building is no more, apiculture lives on at the University of Guelph in the Honey Bee Research Centre. There, you can find bees, as well as University of Guelph honey and related products for sale.

Perhaps, if a swarm of bees every menaces the fire hydrants of Guelph again, instructors and staff could be called upon to save the day once more.

Personalizing postcards: X marks the spot

Picture postcards were introduced in the Edwardian era as souvenirs and as collectors items. Yet, as often happens with popular products, consumers soon found new uses for these cards. In particular, postcards often showed images of significant local buildings, such as churches, court houses, and schools. In Guelph, many postcards showed images of the Ontario Agricultural College (OAC) and the Macdonald Institute and Hall. These cards could be sent away to show off Guelph's interesting structures or to please collectors of images in those categories.

However, postcards could also be modified to convey extra information relevant to the sender and the addressee. Anyone who collects Guelph postcards will soon notice that more than a few are marked by their senders with an "X" at a place of special significance. For example, consider the following card of the then-new Macdonald Institute and Hall, produced by Charles Nelles:

The sender, Miss Margaret Smith, has put an "X" beside a third-storey room in the middle of the top picture with the notation, "X is my room" underneath. Beside the pictures, in her meticulous handwriting, Margaret adds, "My address is Macdonald Hall, Guelph." On the reverse, she writes:

Dear Uncle:—This is a picture of our home and school. Hope you are all well, poor Carolyn is having sick time in Toronto. Lovingly, Margaret Smith.

The postmark shows that the card was mailed on 30 May 1906.

Of course, the modification is a simple one. Still, it changes what was a generic image meant for mass consumption into a personal representation, specially meaningful to Margaret and her uncle at an important time. Her stay at the Macdonald Institute may well have been Margaret's first prolonged time away from home, in a place where she would learn how to run a household of her own.

Besides their accommodations, young women at the Institute used postcards to indicate where they conducted their studies. The card below is typical:

Three Xs hover determinedly over rooms of the building. On the back, their significance is explained in the accompanying message:

Dear Auntie,—I am feeling fine and we all are. The places which I have marked are the places where we have domestic science. G.B. from G.H.

No doubt, the postcard was selected because it provided a vantage of the rooms G.B. had her classes in. It was sent in 24 Feb 1908.

The young men at the OAC were no less interested in communicating where they lived and worked on campus. One student, whose initials appear to be CTA, sent this card to his friend Keith to keep him up on current events.

In the message, we learn about the writer's academic progress and his attitude towards marriage:

O.A.C. 30/14 // Dear Keith—Mighty glad to get your card. better use multiplication table & make it a letter. I pulled turnips about as big around as a foot ball one afternoon this week. Haven’t got my false head yet. Have been doing lots of studying lately. Hear Bert Milliken is married also Russ. Feel awful sorry for them. CTA (??) I live in room X.

Careful examination of the picture shows an "X" in the third-storey window just to the left of the central mass of the Main Building (since replaced by Johnston Hall). The card is postmarked 30 October 1914.

As did the young women of the Institute, the young men of the OAC used postcards to show where they did their learning. In the card below, young R. Harris shows his Auntie Alice where he takes his dairy classes:

Four windows on the upper floor are marked with Xs while four below are marked with asterisks, as R. explains:

Dairy School 13/2/08 // Dear Aunt. // Your card received & here is one in return. I wish I could get some more pictures of the Dairy Buildings. This is the Main building with Dairy Class room up stairs with X on windows. Creamery & Butter Making Dept. downstairs marked "*" on windows. Hope you are both well. R. Harris

The Dairy Department had several structures on campus of which this "Dairy Building" was the main one (since demolished). It was indeed the only dairy edifice to be shown on commercial postcards of the era. The postcard was postmarked on 14 February 1908.

Other buildings were occasionally marked with Xs by their occupants. For example, N.N. sent a postcard of the new Macdonald Consolidated School to Miss Barbour of St. Marys, Ontario:

Instead of Xs, N.N. has used brackets and "My room" to indicate the first-floor classroom south of the main entrance, facing out onto Dundas Road (now Gordon Street). The Consolidated School was part of an attempt to improve rural education, sponsored by Sir William Macdonald, by concentrating rural students to central locations where they would have access to better facilities and teachers than were usually available in one-room schools. Assuming N.N. is a girl, she would have learned skills in cooking, sewing, nursing, and gardening in addition to the three Rs. Her room also had an excellent view of the lane next to the school where the vans would gather after class to take the children home. The card was postmarked on 18 November 1907.

Postcards of the OAC and Macdonald Institute are the ones most frequently modified in this way by consumers. This is likely because these institutions had a high turnover of occupants, many of whom wanted to inform their friends and relations about where they were off to school. However, postcards of other places were sometimes given similar treatment. For example, here is a postcard of the Opera House block in which Xs flag a couple of places of business.

The message explains:

Aug. 31/12 Hello Nellie:—This is where I am spending the holiday. Received your kind letter and will answer when I get back. The places marked x are my brother-in-law’s stores. Hope you are keeping fruit (??). Will

Interestingly, the Xs point to the Opera House Pharmacy, operated by Frederick Bogardus, the subject of an earlier blog post. The postcard was postmarked on 31 August 1912.

Since Frederick Bogardus was Will's brother-in-law, we can identify him as Wilfred Henry Hill, brother of Ada Maude Hill, who married Bogardus in 1910. Unfortunately, I have little further information about Mr. Hill to share. I hope he enjoyed spending Labour Day in Guelph!

Picture postcards could seem quite impersonal, the mass-produced ones being generic and disposable. However, people found ways to make these items more personal, such as marking Xs to designate places that were in some way special to them. Among Guelph postcards, these were often cards of the OAC and Macdonald Institute, which the young men and women, newly arrived in Guelph, would mark up to communicate some of the excitement to their friends and relations back home. When looking at old postcards, it is worth paying attention to these little signs for the glimpse they offer into the personal lives of those who put them to use.

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

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

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

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

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

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

... every breeder, if he expects to accomplish results as an improver of his live stock, must know the conformation consistent with each animal's utility and the type which will yield him the largest returns.

The utility of an animal depended crucially on the condition of its tissues and internal organs. These could not be viewed directly in a live animal, so the trick for students was to learn to judge these matters from an external inspection.

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

In their Senior year, the best students in the Agriculture Option were selected and trained for the competition. At the appointed time, similar teams from agricultural colleges across North America would converge on Chicago for the ultimate test of their mettle. The contest is described in detail in the OAC Review (1910, v. 23, n. 2, pp. 67–68):

On the day of the contest they meet in the great arena and are divided into four sections. Four different classes of live stock are brought in the ring and a section goes to each class and has eighteen minutes to place the animals and write notes. After the eighteen minutes they are moved to another class of stock and twice again, until the four rings are judged. Then the boys are marshalled in four sections and take turns in going before the judges. There are four sets of judges, one set for each class of live stock. Each boy has from one to two minutes to state his reasons for his placing of the class. After giving his reasons he retires to his section and remains until all have given reasons, then the section moves along to a second set of judges, and so twice more until reasons are given on the four classes of stock. This completes one-third of the work. Again four classes of stock are brought in and the same course pursued, and yet once more. Owing to tedious delays, the contest is not usually over until ten p.m. The boys come out from giving their last reasons a wearied, jaded crowd, despondent if they discover many mistakes in placings, awfully weary, but knowing that another contest would find them better prepared in every way.

In a nutshell, each student is rated according to how well his judgment accords with that of the experts. The Spoor Trophy went to the team with the best overall score in the various categories.

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

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

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

Then there is the trophy itself:

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

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

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

Red and blue were the College colors.

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

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

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

The boys in the burlesque costumes lined up on either side of the steps and gave vent to their feelings at each appreciative sally of the speakers in cheers loud and continuous. They rallied round the bull and each speaker was given three hearty cheers led by the man on the wagon.

It also records Hugh Guthrie's affirmation of the significance of their achievement:

"The judging team of the Ontario Agricultural College are a credit not only to the Institution they represent, the city of Guelph, and the Province of Ontario, but to the whole Dominion of Canada."

Glowing with this lavish praise, the crowd carried on back up Wyndham Street to the Kandy Kitchen, where they gorged themselves on treats. Then, sated and elated, they dragged themselves and their trophy back to campus perhaps for more merriment.

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

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

---

Identification of this postcard with the OAC celebration on 2 Dec 1907 rests on three points:

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

Maybe students from the OAC could be persuaded to re-stage the celebration someday, just for old-time's sake, minus the paint, of course.

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.

Flag fight at the O.A.C.

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

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

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

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

Welcome to school!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We called the newcomers out in the afternoon, gave them a flag to defend, and ruled out all forms of dirt or weapons, even to water and knotted towels.

In contrast, the 1908 event was characterized by the use of rotten tomatoes and eggs, as noted above. The pictures in the postcards show no evidence of such weapons, so they most likely show the 1907 edition.

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

1. Fostering group solidarity,
   
2. An expression of dominance, or
   
3. Selection of committed group members.
   

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

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

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

Evidently, the sophomores of 1906 were bent on a display of dominance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

R.C.A.F. Wireless School No. 4

The postcard shown below portrays Upper Wyndham Street as it appeared in the early 1940s, in a somewhat hallucinogenic color scheme. The Dominion Public Building is quite recognizable on the right and the street is full of period cars.

This card was printed by the Photogelatine Engraving Co., Limited, Ottawa.

More important than the picture, though, is the message on the other side, which reads:

Hey. What’s the matter with everyone. I’ve sent a letter home and also to Esther and I haven’t had a [sic] answer yet.
What’s the matter.
K274563.AC2 Guigues W.W.
MPO105 R.C.A.F.
Guelph Ont.

The postcard was addressed to Mr. & Mrs. W.C. Guigues at 206 Devonshire Pl., Ottawa, and is postmarked at MPO 105 ("Military Post Office 105") on 23 October 1943.

The message is fun to read for two reasons. First, it is scolding its recipient for being remiss in sending a letter, a function that postcards were often used to fulfill. Second, it identifies Mr. William Guigues as a trainee at the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) Wireless Training School Number 4, Guelph.

The RCAF Wireless School Number 4 at Guelph began in July, 1941 with the task of training wireless operators to be part of airplane crews that might fly bombing raids over Europe or submarine patrols over the oceans. The history of the Wireless School is well documented on its Wikipedia Page, an article, "U of G's military history" (The Portico, 2008), and a story by Ed Butts (Mercury, 17 August 2015). So, I will provide only a short outline here but try to fill in some items that illustrate the life of trainees at the School.

At first, the Government of Ontario's plan was to close the Ontario Agricultural College (OAC), the Macdonald Institute, and the Ontario Veterinary College (OVC) and turn the entire campus over to the RCAF for their School. This plan met with strong objections from the local population. The RCAF surveyed the campus and determined that only a part was necessary for the needs of the School. So, only the Macdonald Institute was completely shut down during the Second World War.

A five-foot high fence featuring three strands of barbed wire was erected around the School's campus. Buildings within this campus included Johnston, Blackwood, Drew, Watson, Creelman, Mills, Maids, War Memorial and Macdonald Halls. The Macdonald and Trent Institutes, Mechanics Building, Bursar Hall, and Gymnasium were also enclosed.

A notion of the School campus can be gained from the photograph below, taken at its opening on 9 August 1941.

By Unknown - University of Guelph, McLaughlin Library, Archives and Special Collections, Public Domain, Link.

Training for wireless operators ran for about 6 or 7 months. Several cohorts, or "entries", underwent training at any given time. Academic training included radio theory, Morse code and mathematics, and was taught by OAC faculty. Additional training included swimming and how to right a capsized dingy after a water landing, in the swimming pool. Flight training was provided at Burtch Airfield south of Brantford. Naturally, marching and fitness were emphasized too.

The daily schedule was intensive:

The day started at 6 a.m. with two hours of physical training and drill. Classes began at 8 a.m. and went until 5 p.m., with a break at noon for lunch. There were more classes after supper.

The trainees lodged in Johnston Hall and ate in Creelman Hall.

The No. 4 Wireless School Association held reunions in 1987 and 1988, and the local papers featured many interesting reminiscences of the School's graduates.

Mr. Eddy "Link" Traynor recalls how noisy life in Johnston Hall could be (Tribune, 22 June):

Everybody had a radio. With all the different tastes in programming, it made quite a cacophony in the halls, especially in the mornings when we were getting dressed and shaved.

Most of the trainees were new to Guelph, Eddy also notes:

Before I came, the only thing I knew about Guelph was that we had a stove at home in Montreal with "Guelph" on it.

Perhaps his stove was made by the Guelph Stove Company.

Frank Russell recalls a brainstorm that one squadron leader had to help the trainees learn Morse code in their sleep (Mercury, 29 June 1987):

He had us string electric light bulbs in the alcove behind Johnston Hall, so the light shone in the guys' barracks windows.
When the guys were trying to sleep, this bright light would be flashing in Morse code. That lasted two weeks before they were told to get it out.

Discipline was fairly strict. Trainees had to maintain a high level of dress and deportment, and some of the instructors could be harsh. As a result, not everyone passed the course. Failure could be a serious issue since trainees who did not pass were often trained to be tail gunners in bomber crews, a highly dangerous position.

Eddy found that the Royal City had some agreeable entertainments to offer.

The Ritz [now Van Gogh's Ear] had a dance hall upstairs with a juke box. It was quite a hangout for Air Force types.
There was another dance hall on Wyndham above Ryan's [now the Wyndham Building]. They had pretty good bands with a big band style. I remember Willis Tipping had about ten guys who were really good musicians with a Glen Miller sound.

Evidently, Eddy and many other trainees managed to get in many visits despite the 10pm curfew imposed by the School, although that was relaxed on Saturday nights.


(Van Gogh's Ear today—formerly The Ritz. The second floor held a dance hall with a juke box.)


(The Wyndham Building today—formerly the Ryan. Its second floor served as a dance hall.)

The extent to which trainees might go to get out on the town is illustrated by graduate Robert Allen, who wrote (OAC RE1 OAC A0670):

Would you believe we fooled the RCAF brass for 6 months—convinced them we were "Bush Baptists" (Religion); they couldn't find a minister to suit—hence we missed out on Sunday Church parades. We all got 10 days C.B. [Confinement to Base] when they found out, but the tunnel system under the sidewalks into Guelph was quite handy. I don't think they ever found out how we disappeared.

I would love to know what tunnel system he is talking about! At any rate, the story illustrates one of the downsides of relying on security fences.

Naturally, a big part of the attraction of the downtown hangouts was that they were also frequented by local girls. Eddy Traynor notes that many of the women in town were involved in war-related industries, such as making uniforms. Frank Russell recalls that the Knights of Columbus used to put on dances for the troops where they could meet some local girls, although they were "well chaperoned" and no drinking was allowed. That would be at former Knights of Columbus Hall on Dublin Street just north of Waterloo Avenue, currently the site of the Boarding House Gallery.


(The Boarding House Art Gallery today—formerly the Knights of Columbus Hall, where well-chaperoned and alcohol free dances were held.)

In any event, boys met girls. For example, Eddy Traynor met, courted and married Guelph native Elma Delaney, all within his six-month stay at the school!

I was not able to find any records in the University of Guelph archives specifically about our postcard writer, Mr. William Guigues. Records on Ancestry.ca show that he was born in 1925, married Helen Victoria Lord in 1945, and later settled in Ottawa, where his parents (Mr. & Mrs. W.C. Guigues) lived.

Fortunately, William's daughter-in-law Deborah has kindly provided a few more details. Perhaps most interesting is the following photo of William and Esther—whom he mentions in his postcard—in his parents' backyard in Ottawa.

They look happy! Given that Esther is still "in the picture", it seems likely that this picture was taken around the time that William was at the Wireless School. Deborah says that William was involved with radar. This tidbit suggests that William may have been in training as a "radio mechanic", as radar technicians were then known. The job of these technicians was to install and maintain radar equipment, and many such technicians were trained at the Wireless School in Guelph.

Another photo shows William at a railway station in Ottawa. This photo must be somewhat later since William has an Aircraftsman wing and Sargent's chevrons on his uniform.

The usual posting for a radar technician in that period would be to an airbase in Britain. However, William instead went to Summerside, Prince Edward Island. Perhaps he underwent navigation and spotting training at No. 1 General Reconnaissance School there. Among the things he spotted in town was his future wife, Helen.

Following the war, William worked in retail for a couple of years before rejoining the Air Force with the occupation of air traffic controller. This job took him to many military airports in Canada and also Germany. Finally, he retired and worked as an air traffic controller for a number of years at the Ottawa International Airport. He died in Ottawa in 2006.

Wireless School No. 4 closed on 12 January 1945 as the war was headed towards its conclusion. By that time, some 5000 to 5800 young men like William Guigues has passed through its gates. The campus, the city, and the nation began to return to their peacetime state.

Perhaps the most distinguished graduate of the School was Lincoln Alexander, later an M.P. and Lieutenant-Governor of Ontario. Of his time at the School, he said: "I remember the friendship and the fun. It made me a man. It taught me what authority was all about. It taught me to respect others. I'm proud of my service."

---

Thank you to Deborah Guigues for information and pictures of her father-in-law!

Thank you also to the staff of the University of Guelph Archives for help in locating the appropriate documents.

The ghost garden of the O.A.C.

Today, Guelphites and University of Guelph students know Johnston Green as the large and pleasant lawn encountered while traveling to campus from the direction of downtown. Surveyed by the Johnston Hall tower, the green is a favourite spot for seeking verdant relief from the built environment of the campus. However, it has not always been simply trees and grass. Once, it was graced by a large, formal flower garden.

The old flower garden may be viewed in the postcard below, printed by The International Stationary Company of Picton, likely shortly after 1910. The photo was taken from the top of Massey Hall, next to the green.

The sepia hues are the card's original colouration and not due to aging.

The garden layout is formal and geometrical. It is roughly an oval, divided into quarters by gravel paths. In the middle is a round flower bed. Each outside quadrant features four flower beds: three arranged radially and one, triangular bed placed near the long ends of the oval. Each bed appears to feature a single variety of flower or, perhaps, one variety surrounded by another.

On the right-hand side is the north wing of the Main Building, the residence where the O.A.C. students lived during their studies. In the background on the left-hand side is the top of Macdonald Hall, across College Street, where the students of the Macdonald Institute lived during their studies.

Another postcard shows a reverse angle, taken from the Main Building with Massey Hall and the Biological Building (now the MacLachlan Building) in the background. To the right lies the garrison gun known as "Old Jeremiah", sitting in a graveled notch (hidden in the first image), pointing down the Green away from the Main Residence.

This postcard was printed by the Valentine & Sons Publishing Co. around 1910, and gives a more colourful idea of how the garden may have looked.

The placement and form of the flower garden were not the result of some last-minute decorative impulse. Kaars Seipesteijn (1987, pp. 38ff) points out that the garden played a central role in plans for the Green from its inception.

In 1882, well-known American landscape architect Charles H. Miller of Miller & Yeates, Philadelphia, was hired to create a master plan for development of the growing Ontario Agricultural College (O.A.C.). The Ontario Fruit Growers' Association, which had helped to establish a campus Arboretum, prompted the Provincial government to spring for a formal campus plan to be drawn up. Since the O.A.C. had been modeled on US land-grant colleges, it made sense to consult an American designer.

The Main Building had achieved its final form in 1880. So, the central concern of the plan for the Green was how to turn this field, which still bore the marks of Frederick Stone's plow, into a suitable lawn for this building. Miller's solution reflects many ideas of Frederick Law Olmsted, the "father" of American landscape architecture. Olmsted adapted the approach of the English Landscape school of architecture and had designed numerous American college campuses, though he remains best known for his work on Central Park in New York City.

(Frederick Law Olmsted/Courtesy of Wikimedia commons.)

Olmsted's influence is visible in the belt of trees that surround the Green and the semi-circular carriage driveway leading through it from Brock Road (now Gordon Street) past the front of the Main Building. The trees and driveway provide a little drama as the Main Building was "unveiled" only when travelers got quite close to it.

Another important influence on the design of the Green was the other "father" of American landscape architecture, Andrew Jackson Downing. Downing promoted the "gardeneque" style in which, among other things, flower beds were prominently featured. Downing advocated the use of formal flower gardens in the English style. Formal flower gardens could be used to designate important parts of the landscape such as the position of significant structures.

(Andrew Jackson Downing/Courtesy of Wikimedia commons.)

In his Treastise (1841, p. 364), Downing gives an interesting illustration of a set of English gardens along a circular walkway. In the illustration, flower beds are arranged "spottily" along the path and given blob-like shapes. The two exceptions are the beds behind the main structure in the lower left and the conservatory ("b") at the top. The latter beds, particularly, are round and highly regular in shape.

It may be no coincidence that the circular garden beside the conservatory bears a family resemblance to the O.A.C. flower garden. This garden was meant to provide a kind of transition or buffer, separating the relatively informal Green from the significantly formal Main Building. In short, the oval garden at the top of the Green was carefully designed to dignify the Main Building and mark it off from the more haphazard parkland below.

Perhaps Miller had this very illustration in mind when he designed the O.A.C.'s new flower beds.

The resulting layout of the Green can be seen in an aerial photograph apparently taken just after World War I. The caption reads, "Agricultural College, Guelph, Ont., taken from an aeroplane." The copyright notice attributes it to the Canada Post Card Co. of Toronto in 1919. Mills Hall appears to be under construction along the north side of the carriage way. The aeroplane's wing appears on the left edge of the photograph.

(Courtesy of rych mills.)

The significance of the flower garden at the apex of the driveway to the Main Building is readily apparent.

As the postcards above attest, the flower garden persisted through the early twentieth century. However, events finally overtook it. The first event was the adoption of the automobile. As more and more Guelphites drove cars, they demanded more and more pavement on which to drive them and park them.

The second event was the construction of the new Administration Building (now Johnston Hall) in 1931. When the old building was razed and the new one put up in its place, the opportunity was taken to install a paved road flanked with parking spaces, accessed by a lane from Moore Avenue (now College Avenue). The flower beds were torn out and paved over, and the cannon moved away to the south. Asphalt and automobiles—not flowers—now divided the building from the Green, as they continue to do to this day.

To be more precise, though, the flower garden was only half paved over. The half closest to Gordon Street was simply buried under sod. Thus, the gravel paths that once guided visitors around the beds still lurk under the grass. The result is that, during dry periods, the ghost of the O.A.C.'s flower garden returns to haunt Johnston Green.

In the postcard below, the gravel paths of the western half of the old flower beds are eerily visible as swaths of yellow grass in front of the Administration Building.

This postcard was printed by the Peterborough Post Card Co. around 1960.

These areas of extra-dry grass are known as parch marks. That is, the grass there can become parched quickly during a dry spell because of materials below the surface that prevent root growth or simply do not hold water as well as the surrounding soil. Aerial photographs taken during droughts can sometimes reveal subsurface features of archaeological interest, as they have recently at Stonehenge.

The summer of 2016 has also been a dry one. So, I was interested to see whether or not the paths of the old O.A.C. flower bed would return. Indeed they did, as you can see from this panorama taken on June 30.

(See "Old garden path"/Flickr.com)

The half-arc of the pathway can be seen sweeping to either side of Johnston Hall. In front of the arc is the gravel notch where Old Jeremiah used to sit.

So, if you are observant, and the conditions are right, you can follow in the footsteps of students and faculty from years gone by, walking on the paths of the ghost garden and standing where the cannon once stood guarding the end of the O.A.C. Green.