Better late than never: The Dundas bridge arrives in Guelph

There is an old expresson about a bridge too far. However, a bridge can also be too late, as suggested by the telegram sent by Donald Guthrie, then Guelph's solicitor, to the G. & J. Brown Manufacturing Company of Belleville (Mercury, 2 February 1892):

To G. & J. Brown, Mfg. Co., Belleville.
Do you intend to furnish the bridge to the city, and when. Answer immediately.
Don. Guthrie,
City Solicitor.

Reply:
D. Guthrie.
City Solicitor:
Your bridge will be shipped this week without fail.
W.H. Lee.

The City of Guelph had contracted the previous July with the Belleville Bridge Company (as G. & J. were also known) for an up-to-date iron bridge over the Speed River, to replace its venerable but also decrepit predecessor as a vital link between the Royal City and destinations like Hamilton to its south. Having dismantled the old span and installed piers and footings for the new one, Guelphites waited impatiently for the star of the show to arrive.

The move was not without controversy. For one thing, the contract had been let by the council without competition, prompting accusations of shady dealing. A $2,000 contract was a large sum to pay out without tenders. Also, several observers were concerned that the stonework for the bridge's foundation was not sufficient, and no city inspectors were reviewing the work. Would the bridge be set up only to sink into the Speed?

Would it arrive at all? Delivery was expected in December 1891 but the month passed with no bridge in sight. Even in the days before Amazon, this sort of delay was not acceptable. As the end of January, 1892, came into view, the Mercury editor wrote (26 January), tongue in cheek, that residents of Brooklyn, the part of town south of the Speed, was considering separating from Guelph and instituting a ferry service across the river. In general, grumbling about having to detour into town via Gow's Bridge was getting louder and the city fathers were feeling the heat; thus the telegram.

Happily, the ironwork for the bridge arrived in February and the new Dundas Bridge was open for traffic by the end of the month. The link knitted back together the sinews of the town that were strained in its absence.

("George Sleeman, 190?." Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-4-0-0-2.)

A fitting test of the new structure was soon made by Mayor George Sleeman, owner of the Sleeman brewery. Five dray loads of ale bound for Toronto were parked on the span in order to assess its performance. An admirably detailed account of the event was recorded in the Mercury (2 March 1892):

The horses, drays and their contents were weighed on the market scales, and are as follows: 1st load, horses, 3,110, load, 8,845; 2nd, 3,230, 8,930; 3rd, 3,375, 8,965; 4th, 3,405, 9,690; 5th, 3,220, 8,855, making a total of 61,025 pounds. The drays were then driven to the bridge, and placed on the centre span, where the test was witnessed by about 200 people. Including the people standing around and everything else, there was about 32 tons weight on this span. City Engineer Tout made the test and reported that there was only a deflection of 3/16ths of an inch on this span, which of course is the main one. The five dray loads were then driven over the bridge at a quick pace in file and the vibration was very slight.

The bridge passed with flying colours! If only all such tests of public infrastructure could be conducted with wagonloads of beer.

The bridge was later recorded in a postcard published by A.B. Petrie, postmarked in 1909.

("Brock Road, Guelph, Ont.," published by A.B. Petrie, ca. 1910.)

The image is not the most aesthetically pleasing one ever printed but it does show the layout of the bridge from a traveller's perspective, facing south. The three iron arches are visible on either side. To the right, a sidewalk with a high fence can be seen while, to the left, a water conduit used to supply city water to the Agricultural College on the hill is visible below the railing. The deck is smattered with horse dung.

Its connection to the south had always been a very important one for Guelph. Farmers in lots south of the city needed a bridge to bring their produce to its market when the time came, while shipping goods to and from Hamilton and Dundas was crucial for the economic goals of the settlement. So, the first Dundas Bridge (as it was often called at the time) was built in 1828, only one year after the foundation of Guelph by John Galt. This bridge was constructed under the supervision of Jehu Clark (sometimes spelled "Clarke") (1797–1879). Born in Sommersetshire, England, in 1797, Clark emigrated to New York State in 1818, later removing to Canada and arriving in Guelph in April 1828. He was put to work building the first Dundas Road bridge and also Strickland's Bridge on the Eramosa road. The next year, he worked at clearing the townsite of Goderich, returning to farm at Guelph. Around 1850, he moved into town and set up a tannery on Surrey street. Around 1871, due to ill health, he sold the tannery and retired to a cottage he had built on Water street. The 1872 list of Guelph building operations in the Mercury (18 December) describes the location as "over Dundas Bridge," a common way of referring to locations in Brooklyn at the time. He died 31 July 1879 (Mercury, 1 August 1879).

Unfortunately, there are no pictures or descriptions of this first bridge that I have come across. Neither are there any images of Jehu Clark. As the bridge lasted over 20 years, we may suppose it had stone rather than wooden footings but was topped by a wooden deck and railings. We are at liberty to imagine Jehu as we like.

The second Dundas bridge was built in 1849. This date is recorded many years later in a Mercury (17 October 1874) article detailing a lawsuit initiated by George Hood against Peter Gow. Gow owned much of the property along the Speed River west of the Dundas Bridge and had a dam across it to provide water for his mill. George Hood owned property upstream along the Eramosa and was suing Gow for flooding his land due to excessive water level rise resulting from the dam. Happily for us (but not for Hood), several witnesses who testified at the court case had worked on the Dundas bridges in prior years. Jehu Clark, for example, was called to the stand and testified that he had worked on the "old Dundas bridge." Then, Richard Ainley told the court that he had the contract for the bridge in 1849. So, via subtraction, we can calculate that the original bridge built by Clark had lasted 21 years before being replaced.

("View from the Cutten Club, ca. 1872." Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-14-0-0-487.)

Luckily, the second bridge can be seen in the photograph above of a view of Guelph from the south. The bridge sits in the middle of the image. Stone abutments, two stone piers and railings can be made out. St. Bartholomew's Church (predecessor of the Church of Our Lady) can be seen on the top of the Catholic Hill. The scene is considerably different from today's as the land near the bridge is without any trees and there is no boathouse across the road.

Richard Ainley (1814–1884) was born in Yorkshire, England on 31 December 1814 and immigrated to Canada with his family at age nine, first residing at Rice Lake and then locating to Guelph in 1831, where he spent the rest of his life (Mercury, 19 August 1884). He was a carpenter and builder and appears to have done well, accumulating enough money to retire a number of years before his death in 1884.

Besides his work on the 1849 Dundas bridge, Ainley was the framer of the Royal City's first purpose-built store in 1842. He also worked as a lumber merchant and filled a number of civic jobs including fence viewer and constable.

By his retirement, Ainley had set himself up well. For an auction of his estate in 1887 (Mercury, 21 July), we read the following description of his primary residence at 146 Norfolk Street:

“Crescent Vale,” the late residence, is a very commodious, well built, two story white brick, eight rooms, easily heated, large cellar, hard and soft water, suitable out-buildings. There is a splendid fruit garden, upwards of one hundred well cared-for fruit trees and grape vines, all choicest varieties pears, apples and cherries, black, red, and white currants, black, red and white raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries in abundance. Beautiful cedar hedge, ornamental trees.

It sounds like Ainley had quite a green thumb!

The name "Crescent Vale" derives, no doubt, from the fact that the property bordered on the corner of Norfolk street and Nelson's Crescent, the latter a street now largely occupied by the current site of the Guelph Public Library, Main branch.

The construction of the second bridge in 1849 may have been prompted by serious improvements made to the Dundas road by the governments of the Wellington and Gore districts starting in 1848. The old road provided a notoriously bone-jarring ride, so the new, macadamized surface would greatly facilitate trade and travel to the south.

Unforunately, paying for the improvements and upkeep of the new road proved burdensome and the commission running the bridge set up a toll booth at the corner of the Dundas road and what is now College avenue to collect a fee to defray costs. This toll proved to be highly unpopular and led to the construction of Gow's bridge as free alternative.

Travellers often tried to evade the toll, sometimes with deleterious consequences, as noted in this story from the Guelph Advertiser (6 August 1864):

A pleasure ride and what happened.—Two young men, named C. Pratt and A. Smith, with Mrs. Pratt, Mrs. Rynard, and Miss Sarah Chatterson, started for a drive to Puslinch, to pay a visit to some friends. Returning about nine o’clock they drove through the toll-gate on the Dundas road, without stopping to pay the toll. The keeper of the toll-gate, Mr. John Hockin, immediately came up with them as they were entering on the Dundas Bridge. He at once hailed them, but receiving only laughter to his questions, he seized the horses by the head in order to stop their progress. Not being able to accomplish this he had to let go his hold. By this time the horses had become restive, and before they had proceeded many yards the buggy was overturned in the ditch. The men escaped without injury, but Miss Chatterton had her leg broken, and Mrs. Rynard was more or less injured. The buggy, a handsome double one, was smashed to pieces, but the horses escaped uninjured. One of the men struck Mr. Hockin three times on the face. The horses were taken charge of by the toll-gate keeper, who has taken them in safe keeping.

So, use of the Dundas bridge was long associated in the minds of locals with the unwelcome ceremony of paying a toll.

However, interactions of residents and horses at the second bridge were sometimes of a more comic nature, as illustrated by the following account in the Mercury (13 June 1891):

There was considerable excitement in the neighbourhood of the Dundas bridge yesterday. A blind horse, owned by a bill poster, strayed into the river. Two or three who came to the rescue secured a ducking in trying to get the animal out. The best of the joke was that it freed itself from them all and gained terra firma without assistance.

Happy or sad, the second bridge was certainly showing its age after more than 40 years. And so, residents began to call for a third bridge, as described above.

Bridges are significant places in many ways. They connect places that are otherwise separated, providing new opportunties, for good or ill. They are also a focus of activity of various kinds in themselves, and serve as landmarks by which residents understand their settlements. All these things are very true of the Dundas bridge, which has always been central to living and moving in Guelph.

("Streetcar in front of George Sleeman's Home on Waterloo [ave] 1905." The fender on the front of this car was designed to mitigate collisions with pedestrians and were added in light of incidents like the one described below. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 2009.32.6028.)

For example, the electric streetcar system was built by George Sleeman in 1895, with a route laid down over the bridge to connect it to the Agricultural College on College Hill. This meant that students at the College could more easily make trips to the city, and for students and employees of the College to commute to work. Of course, it also posed a new danger for residents and visitors to Brooklyn. On 19 October 1896, Mrs. Truckle was out shopping with her grandson Charles at a store south of the bridge when the lad wandered out and in front of a streetcar (Globe, 20 October). Mrs. Truckle rushed to his rescue but was struck and crushed by the vehicle. She succeeded, however, in saving Charles, who suffered only minor injuries. This was the first fatal incident involving the new streetcar system.

The bridge was associated with many recreational activities, especialy boating because of the boat houses that were installed nearby, culminating in Johnson's boathouse, which does a good business in tea, ice cream and boat rentals today. See my earlier blog post for more on this topic.

("Men's Curling Match, 1881-82." A composite photograph with hand-drawn scenery, signed "C. Hetherington, Guelph." Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1981X.282.1.)

The confluence of the Speed and Eramosa rivers just upstream of the bridge invited curling in winter. Of course, outdoor matches could be unpredictable. On one occasion, three rinks from Toronto had arrived in the Royal City to play the locals on the river by the Dundas bridge but rain made the conditions unsuitable for "scientific playing," so the group retired to the local indoor rink (Mercury, 27 January 1879). It seems that outdoor curling retained its charm in that era while indoor rinks were something of a last resort.

Skating was another popular pastime that was enjoyed informally on the river near the bridge. The Mercury made note of an "extraordinary" skater who was seen enjoying the activity at that site (23 February 1880):

... A boy named McTague, who had one of his legs amputated near the hip three or four years ago, in consequence of a railway accident, has learned to skate, and on Sunday displayed his knowledge of the art to the amusement of not a few. He only uses one skate and supports the side from which his leg has been removed by a sharp pointed crutch. Though his movements are not particularly graceful he hops over the ice almost as quickly as an ordinary skater, and seems to derive equal amusement.

Swimming was another popular activity near Guelph's bridges, which I have covered in other posts. In this respect, Gow's bridge seems to have been favored for its swimming potential. Dundas bridge was sometimes a haven from the sight of naked youth cavorting in the river downstream (Mercury, 5 August 1887):

Bathing at Gow’s bridge.—Numerous are the complaints that are made about young men and boys bathing at Gow’s bridge in broad daylight and in the evening. They run around the bridge, and dive from the parapet as naked as the day they were born and the language they use is most offensive beyond imagination. Ladies living on the other side of the river, and whose direct road home is over this bridge, are compelled to walk around by Dundas bridge. This state of things ought not to be, and the police authorities should see to it at once.

In the days before swimming lessons and PFDs, swimming could be hazardous also (Mercury, 27 August 1923):

Pulled boy out of river

On Friday evening while Mr. Dan Anderson, Verney Street, was passing along to Gordon Street, near the Dundas Bridge, he heard a boy calling for help. On investigating he found a youngster about 12 years old struggling in the water near the bridge. Mr. Anderson fished the lad out, and when asked for his name the youth took to his heels.

Fishing was also enjoyed in the vicinity of the bridge. This common activity drew little attention in the media except when something unusual happened. The Mercury (8 August 1890) notes that the Rev. W.T. Minter, minister of Guelph's British Methodist Episcopal church—a focus of Guelph's black community—who was "enjoying a quiet fish on the river above the Dundas bridge yesterday, was grossly insulted by a boat-load of young men, who swore at him and used other disgraceful language." Fishing While Black? When the Reverend laid a complaint with the police, one of the youths approached him and apologized, asking him not to press the matter. "He represented that they belonged to the best families of the city, which may be true in one sense, and that it would come hard on them to be publicly prosecuted." Minter agreed provided that the rest of the party apologize similarly. It is not clear that they did.

Besides its proximity to the water, the Dundas bridge was a landmark due to the presence of large fields next to it. Called variously the "flats," "field," or "commons" near the Dundas bridge, what I will call the "Dundas bridge flats" for convenience seems to have been the low-lying land north of the river extending from the bridge to Edinburgh road.

(Detail of "Map, Town of Guelph, 1862." The Dundas bridge flats was an informal name for the north bank of the Speed extending roughly from that bridge to Edinburgh road, and up to Bedford and Bristol streets. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1981X.233.1.)

The flats did seem to be regarded as a commons, that is, as a place where anyone might hold an event that had some kind of public purpose. For example, Mr. Wm. S.G. Knowles held an auction there of various conveyances of particular interest to farmers (Herald, 19 November 1850):

One very superior double-seated buggy; three single ditto; six very strong wagons, for teaming or farming purposes; four single-horse wagons, (two with steel springs;) seven double-horse sleighs; three pleasure ditto; two cutters; two pair of harrows; seven wheelbarrows, and a pair of blacksmith’s bellows. The above articles are new, and made by experienced workmen. Also, 2 beautiful horses, 1 milch cow, 3 sets of harness, saddle, bridle, &c.

Cash sales preferred!

(John B. Doris’ Great Inter-Ocean Museum, Menagerie & Circus. Cincinnati: Strobridge, ca. 1883.)

The visitation of traveling circuses was always a big event in early Guelph and, manytimes, the big top was set up on the Dundas bridge flats. On 16 July 1885, for intance, the John B. Doris Circus arrived and put up their tents there. The customary parade through the town was held and the Mercury reported that this was headed by "a very creditable band" and featured a menagerie of rare specimens of animals. The Mercury report says little else but the Globe (20 June) provides a more fulsome description of the offerings of this "Mammoth aggregation":

The Mammoth Fifty Cage Menagerie, comprising the largest and most varied collection of rare wild beasts, etc., received from all quarters of the globe, making one of the grandest zoological institutes travelling. The grand Gigantean Three-Ring Circus is comprised of all the leading excellence, equestrians, equestriennes, ten celebrated clowns, gymnasts, leapers, fourteen real brawny Turks, troupe of French bicycle riders, leapers, tumblers, acrobats, Siberian roller skaters, Japanese equilibrists, etc.

No corner of the globe went unmolested in bringing this show to Guelph! What could be more exotic than Siberbian roller skaters?

Sometimes, the locals put on their own shows, impromptu (Mercury, 24 August 1885):

A pugilistic encounter.—A most disgraceful fight took place on Sunday afternoon on the commons near Dundas bridge between two men whose names are given as Keough and O’Brien. The altercation took place on Macdonnell street, and the parties concerned, decided to go to the place above mentioned and fight it out. It is said that the fight lasted for about ten minutes in the presence of a large crowd of people, none of whom interfered to stop the brutal contestants. Both parties got a good pommelling.

Disgraceful though it was, it seems that the editors of the very English Guelph Mercury could not refrain from publishing an account of a donnybrook between two Irishmen. We are told that the affray was judged not by a referee but aftewards in police court.

Flooding was always a hazard, particularly in the spring when rain and snow melt might combine to produce a deluge of water down Guelph's rivers. Although large floods typically caused a great deal of damage to businesses and homes in the area, the result could be of aesthetic interest nonetheless, as in 1897 (Mercury, 22 March):

The whole flats presented the appearance of a lake. The trees were surrounded by water; the boat house had the appearance of a ship at sea, and ex-Alderman Slater’s, near Wells’ bridge, looked as if it was to be submerged.

With dredging and flood control measures in place, such scenes of nature's watery bounty are no longer to be enjoyed by the Royal City's residents.

("Gordon street bridge, 1931." Four young ladies pose on the bridge railing. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-15-0-0-420.)

Though it arrived late, the third Dundas bridge remained a fixture of the city for many years. Inevitably, tested by the elements and ever increasing traffic, this bridge was replaced in 1938 with an up-to-date concrete structure. Arthur Sedgewick, chief engineer of the Ontario Department of Highways, cut the ribbon at the opening ceremonies.

By this time, the name "Dundas bridge" had itself been replaced with the handle "Gordon street bridge." Perhaps, the significance of the bridge's connection to Gordon street to the north prevailed over its connection to Dundas road to the south, as the importance of Dundas as a destination slipped into the past.

This bridge served for many years but was itself replaced in 2001 with the bridge now familiar to Guelphites. With its location along the route connecting the Royal Recreational Trail and the Boathouse Tea Room, the bridge continues to serve as an important connection and a significant place in town life.

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.

Happy Valentines Day 1906, Maude Powers!

Although Valentine's Day cards date back to the Georgian period, the business of sending love tokens to that special someone really got going in the Victorian era. The establishment of the penny post plus the industrialization of card-making meant nearly anyone could let fly one of cupid's arrows through the mail.

Naturally, some of the earliest picture postcards made in the Edwardian era were also Valentine's Day cards. As such, many lucky young ladies of Guelph and area received these cards from their secret admirers. One such woman was Miss Maude Powers of Speedside. Evidently, she was quite a peach, if the following, anonymous postcard sent 12 February 1906 is any indication:

This card was one of many cards for special occasions printed by the United States Souvenir Post Card Co., New York. On the front is a message attesting to the ardor felt for Miss Powers by the sender:

Just home from Speedside ball. Mind be home next Sunday night. Dear Maudie. These lips are nearly as red as yours the night I kissed them Eh? with love.

In an era long before text messages and emojis, young men could select among such novelty postcards to convey their feelings. Clearly, "Maudie" had made an impression.

Valentines Day, 1906 was not even the first time Maudie's suitor had reached out to her in this way. An earlier postcard addressed to her and written in the same hand was posted on 28 December 1905:

The two pomade-pated, boater-doffing dandies make a likely pair, don't they?

The writer has taken the trouble to add the labels "Billie" and "Bobbie" to the gentlemen on the right-hand side. This postcard was a generic card published by J. Raymond Howe of Chicago. Both cards are unsigned, so it remains unclear who "Billie" and "Bobbie" might be. However, both cards were sent from Guelph, so perhaps they were citizens of the Royal City.

The year 1906 presented Miss Powers with quite a dilemma, for she was the recipient of further amorous postcards from at least two more suitors. Here is one sent to her in Toronto from Eramosa on 10 May 1906:

Written in a different hand from the first two, this racy, unsigned card bears a nearly illegible scrawl in the margin about talking to Maud's Easter hat. What tales those park benches might tell if they could speak!

To complete the triad, here is another card, written in yet another hand, also addressed to Maude Powers in Speedside:

Published by the Illustrated Post Card & Novelty Co., N.Y., this card depicts a young woman reading a brochure on "How to make love" (an expression that then meant something like "to woo" does today) and "How to write a love letter." On the back, her suitor has penned the message:

Now is your chance. Leap Year next week. A.B.G.

A.B.G. has taken the interesting tack of putting himself on a pedestal and inviting Miss Powers to reach for the top. Subtle!

The postcard was cancelled on the "Harrisburg-Southampton RPO", meaning that it was processed in the mail car of a train that went between Harrisburg (near Paris) and Southampton, a route that went through Guelph. The postcard was cancelled on "Jan 2, 0_", with the last digit being illegible. Given that no Leap Year ever occurred in January, A.B.G.—whoever he was—had evidently read a book on writing love letters that specified speaking in riddles. I will assume the year was 1906, since that seems to have been Miss Powers' lucky year.

I do not know much about Miss Maude Powers. She was born the on 6 January 1885 as the eldest daughter of Walker Powers Jr. and Elizabeth Powers, somewhere in the vicinity of Speedside. So, all this attention was paid her around her 21st birthday.

The Historical Atlas of Wellington County (1906) mentions that Walker Powers Sr. was an immigrant from Vermont who settled in Clarke Township, Durham County. Maude's father, Walker Jr., was raised there but moved to Eramosa Township in 1873. There, he courted and married Elizabeth Johnson, from a family of Eramosa pioneers, and raised Percy, Carrett, Maude, and Hetty.

Maude was deliberate in her choice of husband. Two years after this flurry of attention, she set her cap at Alexander Rae and married him on 17 June 1908. He was born on 18 December 1878 in Eramosa Township to Alexander Sr. and Sarah (née McLean)

Alexander may have been bachelor number two, that is, the sender of the postcard "On the benches in the park after dark", since that was posted in Eramosa where he lived. That seems like the best guess at present. Perhaps it could be checked if I ever find an example of his handwriting.

Alexander Jr. was a blacksmith. Around 1912, he and Maude moved to Guelph and set up Rae’s Wagon & Body Works at 39–41 Cork Street, about mid-block on the south side.

With the advent of the automobile, it might seem unfortunate that someone should put out his shingle as a blacksmith. However, Rae's business was a success. Perhaps this was because he took on a variety of work, as suggested by this ad in the 1915 City Directory:

The couple first lived on Surrey Street (West) but soon relocated to 65 Cambridge Street, which I believe is now number 11 (shown below in Google Street View).

By 1930, the business had moved to 43 Yarmouth Street while the family, which included children Margaret, Henry Alex (Jr.), Isabel, Caroline, and Eleanor, had moved to 11 Charles Street (shown below in Google Street View).

Margaret and Isabel worked as bookkeepers in the family business. Eleanor became a corporal in the Canadian Women's Army Corps during World War 2. Alex Jr. upheld family tradition and became a blacksmith.

Alexander Rae was elected a city Alderman in the years 1929 through 1932, inclusive, which were difficult years due to the Depression. He was also a member of the Scottish Rite, the Orange Order, and the Independent Order of Odd-fellows. He died in his home on 30 November 1942 after a prolonged illness (Mercury, 30 November 1942).

Alex Jr. took over the family blacksmith business for a number of years. Maude remained in the residence on Charles Street until she died on 22 July 1956. She and Alexander are buried in Woodlawn Cemetery.

---

A jolly time could be had in the Royal City on Valentine's Day in 1906. For example, one might attend a "house social" like this one (Mercury, 14 February 1906):

The young ladies of the Disciples of Christ entertained last evening in the home of Mrs. Harris, Yarmouth St. The rooms were beautifully decorated in honor of St. Valentine. Various amusements, interspersed with vocal and and instrumental music lifted up the hours. Not the least interesting feature was the art gallery, containing some thirty old masterpieces. Ice cream and cake were served. Each feature of the programme was made the occasion for levying a tax of two cents per head. Much credit is due to the young ladies for the pleasure afforded by the evening's entertainment.

For those more determined to flirt, there were always the city's skating rinks. Guelphites could skate on cleared areas of the Speed River, in special outdoor facilities such as the streetcar rink (now Howitt Park) or indoor rinks such as the Victoria (now a parking lot behind Knox Church).

Howard Shubert ("Architecture on ice: A history of the hockey arena", 2016, pp. 21–24) explains that skating rinks became prime places for flirtatious encounters. Skating was regarded as a suitable activity for both men and women. Men could display their vigor and bearing whereas women could cut pretty figures in the ice and show a little ankle—dresses had to be shorter to allow for skate boots and striding.

Even in the mid-Victorian era, skating in Canada allowed for more than the usual touching between the sexes. A man could hold his lady's hand, to help prevents falls, of course. Also, helping a girl on with her skates was not merely gallant, as suggested by this passage from "The admiral's niece, a tale of Nova Scotia" (1858):

In two hours more numerous skaters were gliding over the Arm, and soon after luncheon the Governor and Lady D— did make their appearance, accompanied by the General, St. John, and Edward.
They were soon all prepared for the ice.
Kate and Ada, enveloped in their furs, their dresses gracefully looped up (showing a bright scarlet petticoat trimmed with black velvet, made rather short so as not to impede their movements in skating) looked bewitching. St. John gazed at Ada's tiny feet in admiration, and on reaching the ice begged to be allowed to fasten on her skates, an honor she smilingly accorded him.
"Dangerous work that, St. John," said Lord D— coming up to them; "those are the prettiest little trotters in the world, more than enough to steal any man's heart from him. They stole mine the first time I ever saw them; did they not, Ada."
“Come, my Lord, don't be saucy; you are at my mercy on the ice, you know, so I advise you to take care," and with a merry laugh she glided gracefully and swiftly away.

The rosy cheeks a girl acquired during a skate were often thought comely as well.

We may assume, then, that many men and women, perhaps including Maude Powers and Alexander Rae, went for a skate on Valentine's Day, 1906, and enjoyed the experience on several levels.

"Official rules for ice hockey, speed skating, figure skating and curling (1901)". By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons