The most disastrous fire that has ever visited Guelph: 6 July 1921

It began sometime around 3:30am on the morning of 6 July 1921 in or near the planing mill of the Robert Stewart Lumber Co., situated on the west side of Upper Wyndham street, across from the Wellington Hotel. Of course, a lumber mill is just about the last place you would want a fire to break out and, very soon, the whole structure was an inferno and its neighbours had ingnited.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36218. In the background is the west side of Wyndham street just north of St. George's Square.)

Describing the sights, smells, and sounds of a major fire is not easy. However, after "the most disastrous fire that has ever visited Guelph," the Evening Mercury was bound to try:

It was a most spectacular blaze. Citizens in all sections of the city were awakened by the glare of the flames, and hurried to the scene. Within fifteen minutes the whole of the mill property was a seething furnace. The building was filled with very combustible material, while the yards adjoining were piled high with dry lumber and manufactured product, which were rapidly consumed. High into the air shot the flames, carrying sparks and shingles and red hot metal roofing hundreds of feet, and for a time there was a genuine fear that the fire would get completely out of hand.

The first alarm was turned in at 4:04am by Mrs. Steele, housekeeper of the Allan family that lived next door to the mill. Fire fighters responded, to find the blaze already well established and threatening to spread throughout the street and perhaps beyond.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36221. Note the "Candyland" sign on the awning.)

On the west side of Upper Wyndham, the fire was already consuming the Hazelton and Coffee blocks. These were occupied by some well-known businesses, including Goetz's shoe store, Grinyer's electrician's shop, Smith's furniture, and Candyland. These were all incinerated.

("The Great Fire July 6, 1921 Postcard;" courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2016.13.23. In the background are the Apollo theatre, New American Hotel, and Opera house, on Wyndham street north of Stewart's lumber mill.)

On the street itself, the intense heat of the fire melted the guy wires for the street car line, allowing the live wires to drop into the roadway. Flashes of fire from the wires added to the general sense of alarm and helped to keep the crowds of spectators back, for fear of electrocution. Electricians working for the hydro utility came on the scene and helped to remove the hazard.

The Wellington Hotel across the road was soon in danger of being set alight. Heat from the blaze set the window sills on fire and flaming embers falling from the sky threatened to do the same to the roof.

Guests of the hotel were awakened, either by the roar of the fire itself or by the alarm. They threw on some clothes, quickly packed items in their portable luggage and made their way to the lobby. Some waited there for the final command to depart while others vacated immediately and moved across Woolwich street to Trafalgar Square.

("Great fire - Wyndham Street," courtesy of the Guelph Public Library, F38-0-2-0-0-71. The view is up Wyndham street from St. George's Square, with water still being sprayed on the Stewart lumber mill.)

Fire fighters kept the building from burning by keeping two streams of water on it throughout the night. This measure did the job, preventing the flames from taking hold and spreading down the whole east side of the street.

(View up Wyndham street north, similar to the image above; courtesy of Google Street View.)

Even so, hardly a window on the street remained intact. The heat caused all to crack or even burst asunder. Many of the sills caught fire, to which the fire fighters responded by dousing them with water, often causing them to shatter under the pressure. Cracked and crushed glass spewed into the street adding to the fire fighters' difficulties.

("Demolition of Stewart Lumber Company Factory, Wyndham Street, 1921," courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2014.84.4. On the left stands the Candyland store; on the right in the background can be seen the rear of the Victoria Rink.)

In behind the lumber mill, the Victoria Rink on the Baker street lot, rebuilt in 1914 after a fire had destroyed its predecesor, was nearly set alight. The manicured greens of the Guelph Lawn Bowling Club were thoroughly singed. The dry kiln and its wooden fuel belonging to the White Sewing Machine factory on the lot was also consumed by flames and it appeared for a while that the factory building itself might follow suit. However, this too was prevent by fire fighters.

The list of damaged shops and stores on Wyndham street was extensive:

From Lou’ Watts barber shop to Keleher and Hendley’s store, every pane of plate glass in the store windows on the east side of the main street was smashed or cracked, and this loss alone will run into thousands of dollars.

It is an odd fact the reports of disasters like this one often prompt descriptions of business interiors and provisions in the city that are otherwise missing from newspaper and other sources.

Two large windows at the G.T.R. ticket office were also damaged while at Garnet Singer’s jewelry store, next door, two more windows were badly broken. A valuable display of jewelry in the window escaped the flames and water, and very little damage to the stock was reported at this store.
...
When the blaze was at its worst in the Coffee block, the front of Geo. Williams’ store took fire and two of the largest plate glass windows on the east side of the street were smashed to atoms. The heat caused by the raging flames melted a large quantity of candy, and otherwise damaged the confectionary, and the loss in this store will be considerable. One will realize the intensity of the heat when he considers that the glass candy containers in the store became so hot they could not be removed from the show casing.
More destruction was caused at Hiscox China palace and Cohen’s Furniture store, where all the windows in both places were broken. Mr. Cohen’s loss will be a heavy one because of the fact that some expensive furniture on display in the two front windows was completely ruined. Included in the damaged stock were a walnut bedroom suite, a valuable chesterfield, rugs, and other expensive furniture.

With a little imagination, one can almost imagine what would be seen while perusing these stores' goods the previous day.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36219.)

Similarly, we also hear of the people who lived in apartments of the upper floors of some of these buildings, especially if they had difficult or harrowing escapes:

It was a serious moment for [the Allan] family, for Mrs. Allan, as is generally known, has been an invalid for a great number of years. She was hurriedly wrapped in blankets and carried to safety by her son, Clifford, and the others had barely time to gather enough clothing to cover themselves before being driven to the street by the advancing flames. Kind neighbors immediately gave them shelter and they are now being cared for at the home of Dr. F.C. Grenside. In assisting with the family of Sheriff and Mrs. Allan, Miss Freda Grenside suffered slight injuries from the excessive heat, her hair being singed and neck blistered.
...
In addition to the destruction caused to the stores on the east side of the street, eight families occupying apartments on the second and third floors of some of the buildings were driven from their homes, and owing to the rapidity with which the flames spread along the street, they were forced to make their exit over the roof tops, and descend to a lane at the rear of Wyndham street by means of ladders. During the excitement, Mrs. Adeline Humphries, one of the apartment residents, fainted three times, before she was finally rescued from the burning home.

These accounts of so many families living in apartments above stores reminds us that rented accommodations were much more common than today, when home ownership is almost everyone's life goal.

Not only did people try to save themselves but they also acted to save their property or the property of others:

Mr. Grinyer [the electrician] had another narrow escape when he saved his motor car, which was in a shed at the back of the building. He succeeded, however, in getting the machine out, although the flames were shooting over and into the shed at the time.

The front wall of Grinyer's store fell into the street at about 4:30am, leaving a sizeable pile of burning rubble. Fortunately, no one was injured.

Perhaps the most notable story of the evacuation was that of Rev. Frank Sanders, pastor of the Congregational church on Norfolk street. He was one of the first people on the scene and took action when the Wyndham Inn, which we would call a boarding house, caught fire.

But when this latter building took fire the reverend gentleman was prompt in helping to salvage the contents. When the ladies were finally driven out by the fire, he continued to carry out the chairs and tables and pass them to those outside. It was while he was in the act of getting out the last table from the dining room, that he narrowly escaped the falling roof which carried the upper floor down with it, the flaming mass of woodwork and beams falling within a few feet of where he stood and completely blocking up the room out of which he had just come.

Divine intervention?

("Guelph Firefighters, 1927;" courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2009.32.3245. Chief Knighton stands on the left, firefighter D. Gray middle, and firefighter Clifford Reginald Knighton on the right.)

The main accolades went to the fire fighters and others who participated in the response to the fire. Fire Chief Knighton directed the efforts of the Guelph Fire Brigade. They were assisted by fire fighters from the Guelph Carpet Mills, the Ontario Agricultural College, and the Reformatory. In addition, the call went out for reinforcements as far away as Hamilton and Stratford. The Galt brigade was able to arrive with a supply of gear and rendered substantial help in figting the blaze.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36224. The Stewart lumber mill ruins are doused as they continue to smoulder.)

Even after the flames of the fire were suppressed, fire fighters continued to pour water on the burned buildings throughout the day to prevent smouldering embers from reigniting it. Even on the morning of July 7, heaps of burning coal were located in the ruins of the Stewart mill that had to be doused (Mercury, July 7).

Walls within the ruins remained standing and had to be demolished to prevent them from collapsing suddenly later on. A street car was employed for the purpose under the direction of Chief Knighton:

A street car was used last night to bring down the big Coffee Block wall, which stood out alone with a three-foot warp in it. A rope was attached to a big steel girder underneath, and the rope was then tied on to the street car, and when the Hydro juice was turned on the girder was dragged out and the big wall crumpled up and fell.

The demolitions left a long gap in the steetscape, from Candyland to the Apollo Theatre, showing the extent of the damage.

A set of real photo postcards, shown here, record the devastation, the firefighters, and the crowds of awed and bewildered spectators. Most are labeled, "Great Fire Guelph July 6th. 1921." One pair also show before-and-after views of the incinerated buidings:

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36222. Note the lamp post near the right edge.)

The second image shows roughly the same part of the street after the walls had been pulled down.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36223. Note the lamp post near the middle; it is the same post as the one above. Interestingly, zone posts are in view on the street, showing that the streetcar service had already resumed at this point.)

Why reproduce these pictures as postcards? As this earlier post about the Gourock train wreck demonstrates, there was always a public demand to rubberneck at disaters, even if only through recorded imagery. The Mercury story makes it clear that large crowds from around the district gathered to witness the fire and its aftermath. Some enterprising local store owner recognized the commercial potential of the situation and, no doubt, had selected pictures of the scene sent off to nearby printers, who could return dozens or hundreds of copies for quick sale.

As numerous postcards of the Titanic and other misadventures plainly tell, disaster sells.

Another immediate consequence of the fire was that there was a "run" on plate glass in Guelph. Nearly every window on the street had been cracked or shattered as a result of the blaze. Many business and building owners wasted no time in ordering replacements. Even before the fire was officialy out, trucks carrying plate glass were on their way from Toronto (Mercury, 7 July). Several had a "mishap" near Bronte and had to return for replacements. Further consignments of glass began to arrive by both truck and train. About $7,000 of new glass was need to replace the windows on the east side of Upper Wyndham street.

Of course, building owners did not simply have thousands of dollars set aside in bank accounts in case of fire. Replacement windows and the myriad other expenses were covered (or not) by insurance. Insurance adjusters were on the scene before the ruins on Wyndham street had stopped smoking.

("Great fire - Wyndham Street," courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-2-0-0-69.)

Most owners and businesses carried insurance against fire damage. From an initial inspection, they estimated the cost of the damage as a whole to be somewhere in the range of $300k to $500k. This was certainly a vast amount of money for the time and testimony to the wealth that the Royal City embodied by then.

E.M. Stewart of the Robert Stewart Lumber Co. wasted no time in applying the company's insurance to get the operation working again. By July 12, he had arranged for company equipment to be moved to vacant space at the Bell Piano Co. on Macdonell street. The Bell Company had been an important part of the manufacturing scene in Guelph in the late 19th century but was well into decline by the 1920s, so it seems that it had room to spare.

As the fire's embers cooled, talk about the town raised questions about how well the fire service was prepared for it and whether or not the fire watch had delayed raising the alarm.

(Mayor Charles Burgess, 1921; courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-4-0-0-20.)

Mayor Burgess requested an inquiry into the fire and the city's response to it, which Provincial Fire Marshal E.P. Heaton quickly arranged. The inquiry raised a number of concerns. For one thing, when Kitchener Fire Chief Guerin arrived in Guelph in response to the Guelph fire fighters' request for assistance, he found that Guelph had hydrants that were incompatible with those in Kitchener: threading on the hose connectors went opposite ways. Thus, the Kitchener crew's equipment could not be used. This observation suggested that fire equipment should be standardized in the province.

The inquiry raised a number of concerns specific to Guelph. It seemed that the water pressure in the city system was initially too low (Mercury, 26 July). It was standard practise for the fire department to telephone the Waterworks to ask for an increase of pressure when a fire was being watered. On the morning of the big fire, it took about 20 minutes for an increase in pressure to be generated, thus dampening the initial response to the fire.

("Firemen on Parade, c.1915;" courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 2009.32.2445.)

Also, Guelph still relied on teams of horses to pull its firefighting equipment. Fire Marshall Heaton point out that similar cities in the province were investing in motorized gear, which could reduce the time taken to respond to fire alarms. Mayor Burgess noted that Guelph's city council had considered this option but decided not to proceed in order to avoid the tax increase needed to fund it. He was also of the opinion that motorized equipment would not have made a significant difference in the case of the recent fire.

Fire Marshal Heaton noted that reports from the Fire Underwriters' Association (that is, fire insurance providers) suggested that Guelph did not have an adequate method for processing fire alarms. There were already rumours about town that there had been delays in reporting the fire to the fire department. These focused on the city's reliance on the telephone service for this purpose. One witness claimed that he tried to phone in an alarm around 3.35am from the Wellington Hotel and reported that he could not get an operator. Mrs. Hogg, occupant of the Wyndham Inn, next door to the lumber mill, attempted to telepone the operator around 3.50am but was evidently unsuccessful. The operators' log suggested they received a call only after 4 o'clock, suggesting that the fire had burned for 25 minutes without a response.

At the conclusion of the inquiry, Fire Marshal Heaton could not decisively establish the cause or origin of the fire (Mercury, 30 July). However, he did conclude that Guelph's preparations for fires was inadequate. Provisions for water supply were not adequate and the firefighting gear was "woefully deficient."

In addition, the Royal City's reliance on the regular telephone system for raising alarms was "far from satisfactory." The Fire Marshal endorsed the suggestion of Fire Chief Knighton that the Royal City should adopt a system of fire alarm call boxes already common elsewhere. These call boxes had a direct connection to the fire department such that when a lever on the box is pulled, an alarm specifying the location of the box is sounded at the fire station. To drive the point home, and perhaps shame the city fathers, the Fire Marshal "read out a long list of towns, smaller than Guelph, each of which was equipped with an up-to-date alarm system."

Perhaps the coup de grace of the inquiry came from an unexpected quarter, having only a tangential relation to the fire and the city's response to it. Fire Marshal Heaton invited any member of the public to testify at the inquiry, an offer accepted by Mrs. Fred Hatch (Mercury, 29 July). When her turn came, her husband appeared bearing a note from a doctor stating she was too ill to attend, so he offered to speak in her place. A resident on a first-floor apartment at 92 Macdonell street, Mr. Hatch testified that his wife had seen two police officers, Clark and Shingleton, leaving a second-floor apartment and exiting the building at the rear, just as she went to the back window to look towards the fire when she got wind of it early in the morning. The apartment in question was occupied by a Mrs. Dempsey, her two daughters, and a Miss Peacock. Mrs. Dempsey, Mr. Hatch averred, "was in the habit of entertaining many male visitors." When asked if he had ever seen a Mr. Dempsey, he replied, "I never saw a Mr. Dempsey unless the many men frequenters there are Mr. Dempseys."

Naturally, this testimony and its implications caused quite an uproar, not to mention denials from Mrs. Dempsey and Constables Clark and Shingleton. The officers involved were indeed supposed to be on patrol, and not in hanging about in a "house of ill fame," but their beat was in the Ward and not on Upper Wyndham street, so their plight did not affect the inquiry into the fire in a direct way. Later on, the city Police Commission held a separate inquiry into their conduct. The result was that Constable Clark resigned from the force, while Constable Shingleton was discovered to be on probation after misconduct with the Toronto Police. So, his services were also no longer required.

Mayor Burgess saluted the bravery of citizens who reported this incident and remarked that if such happened more often, Guelph would have a more effective police force.

("Great fire, Guelph," postcards; courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives: A2011.105, ph. 36225.)

The Stewart Lumber Company, where the conflagration began, never returned to Wyndham street. Obviously, it was a fire hazard and probably would not be welcomed again there with open arms: It was a factory in a part of town that had come to be dominated by stores and offices. The company located its local operations to Cardigan street, across the road from Goldie's mill, where it remained until 1968 when the business was wound up.

("Upper Wyndham street," ca. 1925; courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, Grundy 125. The view shows the gap in Upper Wyndham street seen from the Baker street lot after the burned buildings were demolished. The gap was temporarily home to a number of billboards.)

The void left on Wyndham street by the combustion of the Stewart lumber mill and its neighbours remained for some time.

It was mostly remediated in 1935 when the Dominion Public Building, the city's new post office, was erected there, where it remains today in the hands of the Wellington County government.

With the smoke long since cleared and the chasm in Wyndham street filled in, the memory of the Great Fire of Guelph lives on in the Royal City's best set of disaster postcards souvenirs.

Old Home Week, 1908: Not a week of drinking and debauchery

In his dispatch to The Globe newspaper, a reporter from the Big Smoke summarized the scene in Guelph on August 3, 1908, as follows:

Every point in Canada and the United States where the old girls and boys have settled has been deflated of ex-Guelphites, and they may be found here, for this was the first day of the celebration in honor of former residents. How many thousands of visitors there are here it would not be possible to compute, but Mayor John Newstead said this was the biggest day in Guelph that he could remember. The visitors and citizens ranged at will all over the city and through the civic buildings and homes; in fact, in the Exhibition Park, the chief point of interest, they roamed in such numbers that it was almost impossible for one to make a way through the crowd.

What occasioned this invasion? It was Guelph's Old Home Week, 1908.

(Frank Rollins, Governor of New Hampshire 1899–1901. Courtesy of Wikipedia.org.)

As explained in my previous post about Guelph's Old Home Week 1913, the festival got it's start in New Hampshire in 1899. Governor Frank Rollins instituted a week long, state-wide wing-ding with a number of objectives, the principal ones being to assert the status of northern New England as the essential component of the region, and to stimulate a burgeoning tourist industry there.

Brown (1997) points out that migration of residents away from rural, northern New England for the big cities of Boston, etc., or points west, had left the area somewhat detached from the rest of the region and country, leaving it with a reputation as a backwater. A nostalgic mass return of former resident to the "Old Home" would reconfirm its importance and, more generally, the role of rural life that it exemplified as an antidote to the moral and cultural environment (Rollins would say "decline") associated with city living.

At the same time, Old Home Week would help to establish rural New England as a recreational destination for big city folks and their money. With agricultural productivity in relative decline, a new source of income would be welcome and, Rollins thought, tourism was it.

New Hampshire's 1899 Old Home Week was a smashing success and the idea spread like wildfire throughout neighbouring regions, including the Maritimes, Quebec, and Ontario. Soon, the President of the Canadian Club of Boston wrote a letter to the editor of The Globe (15 June 1901) urging that Canada get in on the act and assuring officials that Ontarians abroad would relish the chance to revisit their old haunts.

The idea of a province-wide (or nation-wide) Old Home Week understandably proved too unwieldy but individual cities soon got in on the act. By 1905 (Evening Mercury, 25 August), locals were writing letters to Guelph newspapers reporting on the Old Home Weeks of nearby towns and cities. Not to be left behind, the powers-that-be in the Royal City kicked the idea around.

(Detail of "Guelph's Old Home Week Executive Committee," from "The Royal City of Canada, Guelph and Her Industries / Souvenir Industrial Number of the Evening Mercury of Guelph, Canada." Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1974.15.7.)

In 1907, talk turned into action. An Old Home Week committee was formed and planning began (Mercury, 14 September). A gaggle of subcommittees were formed to handle the challenging task, including Finance, Transportation, Decoration, Publicity, Sports, Music, Reception, and Parade. Dates were set for the civic holiday week of the next year: August 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, 1908.

Various postcards were created for residents to send out as invitations. This postcard provides a helpful form with blanks to fill in and even a picture of someone doing so, just to be clear. The invitee is "Old Pal James," who is identified on the back as Jas. Cowan of Grimsby. The message on the back reads:

Oh I wish you were here now. You could work day and night, the electricians are so busy for Old Home Week. How long will you you be down then. I might slide down to see you. However will expect [you] Old Home Week.

Electrians were indeed busy, preparing to light the Royal City up like never before.

This "Welcome Old Boys" cards was another popular publicity item, also demonstrating the male orientation of the event. However, the Old Girls were welcome too, as demonstrated by the message:

Guelph, July 12/08 // Dear Amabel. how are you today and have you completely recovered[?] be sure and come up for old home week and we’ll sleep outside in a tent. We expect to have a great time. Guelph is buying up all the flags and bunting in Ontario[.] Lots of fireworks too. Bye Bye Cousin Helda

Both the above postcards are stamped "Daly's // Guelph, Ont." on the back, likely meaning they were sold at Daly's News and Cigar store on Wyndham street.

One of the early concerns was trying to land a prominent figure to help attract visitors. Initially, it was hoped that the Prince of Wales (later George V) might drop in. HRH would be in the country at the time and he was a Guelphite—well, a member of the house of Guelph after whom the city was named. Alas, it was not to be: The King's secretary politely informed the Committee that the Prince's tour would be confined to Quebec.

("Rear Admiral Charles E. Kingsmill (1855–1935), in naval uniform, ca. 1908." Courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives, A2002.54, ph. 16831.)

However, the Committee got a positive reply from another prominent former Guelphite, Admiral Charles Kingsmill. Kingsmill was born and raised in the Royal City but left age the tender age of 14 to join the Royal Navy. To make a long story short, he served in every corner of the British Empire and climbed the ranks right into the senior echelons. In 1906, he was captain of the battleship Dominion, named for the Dominion of Canada and sent there on a tour to show the flag. The ship ran aground during the tour, resulting in a reprimand for Kingsmill. Even so, he was appointed a Rear Admiral in 1908 and was tapped by the Canadian government with the (unenviable) task of organizing a Canadian navy. In brief, Kingsmill was about as well-known and highly-regarded figure as was likely to attend Old Home Week. One can only imagine the joy with which the organizers received his acceptance of their invitation.

Besides having a star attraction, Old Home Week organizers needed to assist thousands of former Guelphites and well-wishers in making their way to the Royal City. Associations of ex-Guelph people were formed in cities throughout Canada and the United States. Negotiations with the railways resulted in special trains that brought people hence to their old haunts. One of the largest such associations was the ex-Guelphites Association of Toronto, which held meetings and publicized the event in the Queen City. This connection was much assisted and cultivated by the Guelph Committee. Other cities where ex-Guelphites formed associations for the event included Edmonton, Calgary, Regina, Winnipeg, Vancouver, Detroit, and Cleveland.

By mid-July, the effort to dress the city up for the event was in full swing. Naturally, there would be banners and bunting of all description on display. Most exciting was the plan to illuminate Wyndham street from end-to-end with electric lights. Since the power grid drawing juice from Niagara Falls did not yet exist, Guelph had to look to the output of its own generators. Representatives of the Light and Power company surveyed local businessess to determine their requirements and to identify whose power could be cut off: Given the system's limitations, bathing downtown in electric light would mean plunging other city sectors into darkness for the duration (Mercury, 18 July 1908).

(The subtitle of this article is a hoot: "Electric fluild to be conserved." Was this really a reference to the already-outdated fluid theory of electricity? Or, was it simply an expression, like "turning on the juice" is today?)

(Souvenir postcard of The Electrical Building, World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, 1893. Courtesy of the Chicago Postcard Museum.)

Nye (2022) explains that illuminations were very signficant to American cities. In days of yore, torchlight processions and the like were hallmarks of special celebrations and elite occasions. With the advent of gas and then electric lighting, the scope of illuminations to demarcate special places and events increased. For example, The World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893 was lit up prodigiously with electric lighting and featured a whole Electricity Building dedicated to the technology's bright future.

The delight experienced by Guelphites with their own electric promenade was palpable. The Guelph Musical Society Band was engaged to play a concert on the night of 24 July during the time the illumination was first tested. A large crowd gathered in the street for the final test on 1 August.

Finally, the carnival of Old Home Week commenced. Decorations had been finalized, accommodations found, grand stands, tents, and light stands erected. Trains arrived at the stations, disgorging hundreds of visitors before heading off to bring more.

A typical day during the celebration began with dignitaries meeting trains of special visitors downtown, requiring official greetings along with speeches and music for the VIPs. An afternoon parade would lead celebrants from the (old) City Hall, up Wyndham, Woolwich, and London streets to the Exhibition Park. There would be a program of events centered on a given theme, held in the fields in the northern sector of the Park. Visitors also had the option of enjoying the midway and sideshows featured in southern area. These areas were fenced off and general admission was $1. After the official festivities concluded, another parade led those so inclined back downtown, perhaps to find their lodgings or their trains back home.

(Real photo postcard view of Lower Wyndham street as seen from the old City Hall. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 2014.84.460.)

Naturally, parades featured performances by musical bands. Guelph's Musical Society Band was consistently present but bands from home-comers' cities also took part. For example, on American Day (5 August), the Marine Band of Detroit led the parade, with the stars and stripes out front.

(Real photo postcard view of Lower Wyndham street looking towards St. George's Square. Interestingly, this postcard was sent through the mail in 1915.)

The day of 5 August featured burlesque bands. Perhaps the most memorable was the "Blea Rube Band" of Toronto, which performed a "Kiltie burlesque" (Mercury, 6 August):

Yesterday they appeared in Highland costume very cleverly burlesqued and they used instruments on which they imitated the old Highland bagpipes in a style which would have deceived the best bred Scotsman that ever crossed the pond from the land of the heather. In addition they had painted themselves in the most grotesque manner, with heads and faces on their knees, etc.

The local favorite was by far "Long Joe" ("alias Madam Le Haut"), local man Joe Lawrence, who sported a parasol and fashionable Parisian gown and who stood out at nearly 7 feet tall.

(Real photo postcard of "Long Joe" Lawrence in a white dress with parasol, parading through St. George's Square. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Musuems 2009.3.1. The message on the back states, "This is the only one I have got left of Guelph Old Home week procession[.] it is a man standing seven feet in a lady dress representing a firm from Toronto" )

One special feature of the 3 August parade was the appearance of a number of Guelph old-timers (Globe, 4 August). A yoke of four oxen carrying a load of wheat was driven by Mr. Wm. Healey, "who remembers the earliest days of the Guelph market." The wagon was itself an old relic, built 62 years previously and used by the Gow family of Fergus to move wheat to Guelph market square (Mercury, 1 August).

(Real photo postcard, "Souvenir, Old Home Week, Guelph, 1908. In a similar card, the oxen are identified as Tom and Jerry.)

Naturally, sporting events featured prominently in the afternoons. There were competitions in lawn bowling, lacrosse, horse racing, and track and field. The most anticipated event was the baseball game between Eastern League rivals the Toronto Maple Leafs and the Jersey City Skeeters.

The game itself turned out poorly for the Canadian fans, with the Maple Leafs receiving a drubbing at the bats of the American team (Globe, 5 August):

What the lowly Skeeters did to the champion Maple Leafs here to-day was cruel and almost criminal, and before a crowd of 8,000 Old Home week celebrants at that. The Mosquitoes—for it was an occasion which called for some politeness—thumped, hammered and slugged their way around the bases fourteen times in the seven innings before darkness mercifully put an end to the slaughter.

The final score was 14–1.

On the bright side, the Maple Leaf's one run was a homer off the bat of Jimmie Cockman, a Guelph Old Boy! Cockman had been born and raised in Guelph and excelled in baseball to the extent that he had a solid career with many professional teams. As captain, Cockman led the Milwaukee Creams to the top of the Western League in 1903. In 1905, he was seconded to the New York Yankees by his Newark International League team, making him one of the few Canadians of the era to play in the American major leagues. He retired and returned to Guelph in 1912 but coached the Guelph Maple Leafs in their championship run in 1921.

("James Cockman, Guelph's well-known professional player," The Canadian Century, v. 4, n. 13, 1911.)

At Cockman's first at-bat in the second inning, play was suspended and a brief ceremony held to honor the Royal City's famous son (Mercury, 5 August):

The players of both teams formed a semi-circle around the popular third baseman, while Mr. Downey [local M.P.P.] acted as spokesman. In a few words, Mr. Downey stated that the many admirerers of Jimmie in the city had considered this a suitable time to show their esteem and admiration for that popular and very efficient player. He also referred to the fact that Guelph had been the birthplace of baseball in Canada.
Mr. Morris then presented Mr. Cockman with a diamond ring, and the crowd gave three cheers and a tiger.

(Real photo postcard of St. George's Square from the middle of Lower Wyndham street. This image was the most commonly reproduced postcard of Old Home Week.)

(Real photo postcard view from the Post office/Customs house of a parade marching through St. George's Square. Note Joe Lawrence in a dress in the foreground and a marching band following him. A hand-written message on the front states, "scenes during Old Home week on main street, Guelph".)

Another signal event for Old Home Week was the military tattoo. On the evening of August 5, crowds of people packed into the grandstands in Exhibition park to see the spectacle. The conditions were excellent (Mercury, 6 August):

A dark, still night, not very warm, with a gentle breeze blowing steadily. The colored lights placed along the fence and the edge of the track cast a lurid glow over the track, throwing into relief the soldiers and bandsmen as they marched past, and sillouetting darkly the crowd in the background.

The bands stood poised at the north end of the park. At the signal, the Guelph band marched forth, down the track and past the grand stands, under the baton of Drum-Major Fairburn. The hometown crowd cheered with excitement.

("Captain Walter Clark," ca. 1900, veteran of the Crimean War and drill instructor of the Guelph Cadets. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, Grundy 3.)

Next followed the bands from Preston, Berlin (now Kitchener), and Goderich. Following them were the formations of troops and then the cadets, under the direction of Captain Walter Clark.

Following this was a prodigous fireworks display. At first, sparkling lights produced a portrait of King Edward, accompanied by the national anthem played by bands and three volleys fired by the Wellington Riflemen. Then followed a portrait of Theodore Roosevelt, which prompted an ovation.

The finale comprised an all-in burst of colour and noise that took the crowd's (and the reporter's) breath away:

Every variety of rocket was fired off in rapid succession. The air was literally full with glowing, flashing, rapidly-changing colors. There was a constant succession of glowing lights, bold color breaking into myriad [displays of] many colors, jumping rockets whirled and twisted with eccentric irregularity. “Maxim” or repeating rockets, fiery clouds which seemed charged with shifting rainbows. It was a gorgeous pyrotechnic display of such magnitude that the crowd literally held its breath while it lasted.

The bands followed up with a few more selections and paraded back to downtown, followed by many of the excited specators.

(Real photo postcard scene of an Old Home Week parade in St. George's square, conveying some of the excitement at street level.)

At the south end of the park was a midway, featuring attractions such as a Ferris Wheel, Merry-Go-Round, Electric Theatre, Fairies in the World, Coney Island at Night, Darkness and Dawn, etc. In a tent labelled "The Train Wreckers," one could see moving pictures!

The train wreckers was the title of a hit short film from the Edison Company, 1905. It features one of the few actual cases on film of villians trying to do away with a girl by leaving her on railroad tracks. Watch for the trick photography during the rescue scene!

Naturally, there was a so-called freak show. One freak performer was "Rattlesnake Joe," AKA Mr. J.H. Wilson, who was immune to reptile venom. His act was to handle a menagerie of poisonous snakes, which he allowed to bite him on the arms, chest and even his tongue (Mercury, 6 August)! Amazingly, he seemed none the worse for wear.

Then there were two "fat boys," weighing over 600 lbs between them, who engaged in boxing matches, using gloves. There were also three snakes, of a combined length of more than 100 ft., an untameable ape, and a two-headed fetus preserved in alcohol. The curious could attend lectures on any or all of these subjects.

Special performers were also employed to please the crowd between the main attractions. For example, there was the Dare Devil Dash, in which Professor Zavaro peddled his bicycle madly down a 100 ft. ramp, vaulted a wide chasm, turned around in mid-air and, leaping from his ride, dived into a vat of water. This is a feat beyond most university professors. Was Zavaro on sabbatical?

Perhaps from the same institution came Professor Tardini, the balloonist. His vocation was staging balloon ascensions accompanied by fireworks displays aloft. After this, Tardini would descend back to mother earth using a parachute.

(A real photo postcard featuring a man and woman looking at the camera through a cut-out backdrop of a balloon with gondola. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1986.18.153. This appears to be an homage to Professor Tardini's balloon. It was likely taken in a photographer's studio in town.)

Tardini's balloon had difficulty in rising to the occasion. The wind was too high in the afternoon of 5 August to permit him to fill his gas bag. However, conditions improved and he was able to ascend and provide an aerial fireworks show that evening. An intriguing aspect of Tardini's setup was that his balloon was filled with "real gas" rather than hot air. If this means hydrogen, then the Professor was even more brave—or more foolish—than he seems at first. I can only think he was not a professor of chemistry.

Most impressive were the performances of the Kishizuna Japanese acrobatic troupe. Their performance is not described in detail but it was praised as "easily the best attraction on the grounds and has proven well worth the money expended by the committee" (Mercury, 6 August).

("Kishizuna Imperial Japanese Troupe," ca. 1910, postcard publisher unknown. Courtesy of "aboveall" via HipPostcard.com")

No detailed account of the Kishizuna act is given but it may have featured elements like those recorded in a short film by "Japanese Acrobats" (1913): ("Japanese Acrobats," 1913. Courtesy of the British Film Institute National Archive, via Friends of the British Film Institute.)

One of the more intriguing aspects of accounts of the 1908 Old Home Week were descriptions of how orderly it was. One might expect a week-long wing-ding to be the occasion of some overzealous revelry. That was not the Police Magistrate's opinion, however. "I am agreeably surprised and pleased with the manner in which the large concourse of people have conducted themselves in the city during the Old Home Week," Justice Saunders remarked (Mercury, 6 August).

There were not infrequent cases of drunkness, of course, but these were handled discretely by police, who put simply put inebriated celebrants in holding cells until they sobered up, at which point they were decanted. So, it seems that good order was kept in part by bending the usual concept of what was considered orderly.

("Ancient Order of Pole Climbers - Old Home Week Ribbon." Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 2014.33.20.)

It seems the police were more interested in assaults and thefts, of which there were not many. The only issue on this count was a young man who threatened to shoot someone and was found in possession of a loaded revolver. As this person had no license to carry a firearm in the city, he was fined $8.50 or one month in jail.

Still, the police blotter could hardly convey the experience of being on Wyndham street during the carnival. The account of the Mercury's own reporter must be our guide ("Confusion reinged," 6 August):

Bedlam let loose could not present more madmen than did Wyndham street last night after the return of Ralph Humphries’ “Illustrated” parade from the park. The old town, sober, quiet, old Guelph aroused itself in earnest. Everybody was just crazy with joy, falling over themselves and everybody else in their efforts to have a good time—and they were having it, too. There has never been anything the likes of it before in the old burg, and visitors from afar would last night have had recourse to the old saying that “a thing must be seen to be believed.” To describe anything that happened would be an impossibility. Everything that could happen occurred, and it was occurring all the time. From end to end the street was filled with a joyous, yelling jovial crowd of the best humored people ever gathered together. Anything went with crowd, and everything was taken in the spirit in which it was given with freedom and good spirit.
At ten o’clock the fun was officially commenced, and The Mercury still awaits reports as to when it was concluded. No matter how late or how early it was when people left the town, they had the opinion that they were missing something. At two o’clock this morning the lights were put out, but the fun did not discontinue until a long time after that. Throughout the several hours of fun there was not the least let-up at any time. Everybody appeared to be tireless, and the mob rushed from end to end of the street, howling, yelling, cheering and throwing everything at everybody “without fear or favor.”
Of all the games of the street last night, there was nothing so popular with the mob as the merry go round. To the majority of the readers there is no need to explain the principle of the game. They have experienced it, and know what it is. But it may be explained that the merry go round consists of the old time bull in the ring game. The innocent cause of the trouble, who may be standing on the street with his lady friends, is suddenly surrounded by a bunch of hooting, yelling lunatics and for the next few minutes they have the opinion that they are in the centre of a cyclone. But the storm soon passes to another quarter of the street, and no one is the worse for the experience.
Another popular form of lunacy last night was the flying wedge, which worked on the principle of the rotary snow plow, and had the effect of clearing the street with a rapidity that would have done credit to the Guelph police force. At the ends it worked with the same effect as crack-the-whip and woe to the man who got in the way.
Half a dozen wagon trucks, etc., put in their appearance on the street at different times and were pulled from one end to the other in great style. One of these was put into intentional collision with the wagon of the peanut man, who thereupon decided to make for safer quarters, but the crowd were after him, and before he got half way across the square wagon, charcoal, peanuts and fire were distributed over the square in a very impartial manner.
The fountain on St. George’s Square was the Mecca of many of the hoodlums. More than one was ducked. Some were thrown in bodily, while one unfortunate who was reposing on the stone coping was compelled to turn a graceful back somersault into the tank.
Apparently under the delusion that he was in the holy water of the Ganges, a local tonsorial artist entered the dampened arena, and with the water to his knees commenced a parade in which he was given the undisputed proprietorship of the parade ground. He seemed to enjoy it immensely, and kept not all the pleasure to himself. He had a sponge which he attached to a string and by its aid was very successful in distributing shower baths upon the crowd.
Ald. Humphries, the chairman de parades, was the hero of the night, and his appearance for the midnight parade was the signal for a general ovation. Everybody cheered for Humphries. He was the idol of the hour. On Upper Wyndham street despite considerable damage to his wearing apparel, he was hoisted to the shoulders of some of the enthusiastic ones and carried all the way down the street.

Magistrate Saunders had said that the orderly conduct of citizens during the week "would convince those who had been opposed to the reunion that it was not a week of drinking and debauchery." Were they convinced?

No city could operate under such conditions for very long. By the evening of 7 August, the festivities wound down and Guelph put her sober countenance back on. People flocked to the train stations to catch trains out of town. Decorations were removed and special lighting turned off. A number of people attended the final performance of the Kishizuna Troupe and took in "The streets of Cairo," curious to see a sideshow deemed objectionable by some of their fellow citizens. This piece was a vignette about a young girl on the mean streets of Cairo and had been composed and performed for the Chicago Columbian Exhibition in 1893, where it was a hit. It featured a belly dance known as the hoochie-koochie, which was probably the most objectionable part. The tune remains one of those old melodies widely recognized today but whose origin most have forgotten.

With these last, few performances over, the tents were taken down and the performers departed for their next gigs. Guelph became its old self. As the Mercury (8 August) put it:

Where on the previous night riots reigned where the air was filled with confetti and talcum powder and funny noises, last night reigned the silence and quietude of a quiet city.

Old Home Week 1908 was over. Was it a success? Fiscally, the Reunion Committee expected a small deficit. However, most everyone had had a grand time and were not concerned if the affair did not quite break even.

It is unclear that Guelph had demonstrated the superiority of small town Ontario culture or morals. Nor is it clear that the Royal City had set itself up as a tourist Mecca. Still, citizens could be satisifed that their city had come a long way since its foundation, and that it could put on a blast to compare with those of any of its neighbours.

Already, there was talk of mounting another Old Home Week.

("Guelph Old Home Week souvenir pin." Courtesy Guelph Civic Museums 1978.165.7.)

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Works consulted for this post include:

• Brown, D. (1997). Inventing New England: Regional tourism in the nineteenth century. Smithsonian Institution.
• Nye, D. E. (2022). American illuminations: urban lighting, 1800–1920. MIT Press.

Frederick Bogardus and his pharmacies

Over the sidewalk at the north end of Wyndham Street hung a curious sign. In the shape of a pestle, it said "Opera House Pharmacy // Bogardus // Chemist". The card was printed by the International Stationary Company in Picton, Ontario. The photo was likely taken during Old Home Week, 1913, which helps to explain the banners on the Wellington Hotel across the road.

Frederick Francis Bogardus was a long-time and successful druggist in Guelph, and his drug stores appear in the corners of several postcards of the Royal City.

On his arrival, the Mercury made a special point of describing him to his new neighbors (8 Oct. 1904). For example, the Mercury article noted that Bogardus was an honor graduate of the Ontario College of Pharmacy and had just worked for eight years in Walker & Abbs’ Queen street pharmacy in his native St. Catherines. He was relocating to Guelph to take over the old Worthington Drug Company at 122–124 Wyndham Street, in the Opera House block, evidently with financial backing from H.W. Calkins of St. Catherines. Astutely, Bogardus named his new venture the Opera House Pharmacy.

We can gain some insight into Bogardus's early business through "Bogardus & Co's Almanac and Cook Book", a booklet published in 1910. The front cover features a large picture of the interior of a pharmacy, showing two men at work. Could they be Bogardus and Co?

(Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums, 1976.40.42.)

The booklet features a monthly almanac along with ads for the store's offerings. Of course, there are many recipes, for which many ingredients, such as baking powder, can be found in the store. For amusement, many pages feature jokes in the footers. Much of the humor is based on rather crude ethnic and gender stereotypes that would be regarded as rather tasteless today.

Of course, the Opera House Pharmacy offered lots of medicines, of a sort that I discussed in an earlier posting on illness in Guelph in the Edwardian era. Bogardus's Vegetable Liver Granules sound particularly good. Besides that, the store had lots of veterinary medicine, including horse pills and sheep dip. In fact, the book urges the reader to "Use pain balm when you or your horse has a sprain."

Besides getting prepared drugs, customers could apparently get Bogardus & Co to whip up their own inventions:

Our Specialty: We make a specialty of family recipes and prescriptions. If you have a valuable family recipe, let us dispense it. We use nothing but the best drugs and chemicals and dispense strictly with the prescription.

Where today could you get a pharmacist to make up drugs according to your own recipe?

Most intriguing to me are the trusses. The Opera House pharmacy sold all the usual personal items such as brushes, soaps, sponges, and perfumes. However, they were particularly well equipped with trusses. In this case, "truss" refers to a special belt or undergarment used to relieve discomfort from hernias. A hernia occurs when an internal organ like a bowel protrudes through a gap in a person's abdomen, especially the groin. Worn tightly around the waist, a truss applies pressure on the hernia, helping to hold it in and thus relieve some of the pain associated with it.

The Bogdardus & Co. Almanac and Cook Book describes their inventory of trusses in glowing terms:

We carry a complete stock of the different makes of trusses. When in need of a truss come to us. We don't charge you a fabulous price like some of those so-called truss experts; our prices are right. We guarantee a fit, with the proper style for every case.

In the "Commercial, Industrial and Progressive Edition of Guelph, Ontario" booklet issued by the Guelph Chamber of Commerce in 1916, the writeup of the Opera House Pharmacy even features a picture of a truss.

(Courtesy of the Guelph Civic Museums, 1980.115.83, p. 20)

The writing on the pads says, "The Excelsior Improved". Perhaps this points to the Ohio Truss company, of Cincinnati, which was a manufacturer of bandages and elastics and featured the term "Excelsior" in their model line.

Although trusses could help with the pain of hernias, they could still be quite uncomfortable. So, it is no wonder that Bogardus took pains to assure potential customers of his attention to proper fit.

Happily, today hernias are usually addressable through surgery.

Frederick Bogardus married Ada Maude Hill of St. Catherines on 8 June 1910. They went on to have three children: Arthur, Elizabeth, and Doris.

Bogardus must have been good at his job. In 1917, he went into partnership with Walter Barton, a former clerk at the Opera House Pharmacy (Mercury, 6 Nov. 1947). The partnership even opened a second location in the Mahoney Block in St. George's Square, at 74 Wyndham Street. The new location was also astutely named, as "Bogardus and Barton." It appears in the postcard below, located in the far left corner, opposite the old Bank of Montreal building.

The postcard was printed by The Valentine & Sons United Publishing Co., Ltd, of Toronto from a photo dating from around 1925. The corner entrance of Bogardus & and Barton can be made out better in the detail below.

The profuse signage leaves no doubt as to the nature of the business. The picture window on Quebec Street reads, "Bogardus and Barton // Quality Drug Stores" The proprietors' concern with the health of their customers is reinforced by the word "Drugs" in large letters over the door, as well as the word "Cigars" on either side.

Bogardus and Barton seems to have carried on a similar business to the Opera House Pharmacy, although one advertisement does mention photo developing in association with the new location (GCM 2009.32.1200).

Frederick Bogardus had become a settled and significant citizen of the Royal City. He appears in a photograph of the Guelph Chamber of Commerce Annual Picnic held in 1922, along with many other local businessmen (GCM 1981.67.1). Unfortunately, the photo caption does not identify who is who, so it is unclear which face belongs to Bogardus!

Bogardus had also become a centerpiece of the local lawn bowling league. Newspaper accounts of lawn bowling matches often feature "F. Bogardus", who was a member of the Victoria rink. The Toronto Star (10 Aug. 1916), for example, notes F. Bogardus was a member of the Guelph team, also including A. Leitch, T.W. Fox, and G. Chapman (skip), who won the Kuntz Trophy, 19 to 11, over a team from Galt in a tournament played in Waterloo.

His love of lawn bowling seems to have been life-long. In a booklet entitled "Guelph Sports Hall of Fame" (1972), Harold Cole puts Frederick Bogardus in the Hall of Fame, noting that he was "generally regarded as the dean of the [Guelph Lawn Bowling] club, and whose ability at the game lived with him all the years of his life" (GCM 1980.41.4).

Walter Barton died in 1934. Perhaps finding two locations to be too onerous to manage, Bogardus wrapped up both locations and moved Bogardus Drugs across St. George's Square to 55 Wyndham Street, on the south side of the Square. On 1 Jan. 1937, Bogardus moved the store up the street to Wyndham Street 91A, just north of the old Post Office and Customs building, where the Sip Club now stands. The location was evidently rented from the C.N.R., which had a ticket and telegraph office there. When the C.N.R. cleared out in 1947, Bogardus bought the location and expanded into the whole space, renovating the ground floor and doubling the size of his operation (Mercury, 6 Nov. 1947).

Just beforehand, in 1946, Bogardus had taken on a new partner, his son, Arthur. Arthur Bogardus had trained as a druggist at the University of Toronto and graduated in 1940. He promptly volunteered to serve with the Ontario Medical Corps and went overseas with the 10th General Hospital. On his return, he and his father became partners in the new store.

This edition of the Bogardus drug store can be seen in a postcard showing Upper Wyndham Street around 1950. The pharmacy is on the right edge of the picture, beneath the sign that says, "Drugs". The postcard was printed by the Photogeletine Engraving Co., Ltd., of Toronto.

The sign and storefront can be made out more clearly in the detail below. The sign appears to read, "Drugs // Fred'k Bogardus" and is accompanied by a shield for the I.D.A., the International Druggists Alliance, which Bogardus must have belonged to.

About 1953, Bogardus Drug Store welcomed a new partner, Orval Gaul. Gaul had graduated from the University of Toronto's Pharmacy School in 1950 and seems to have begun working for Bogardus shortly thereafter. The business was appropriately renamed the "Bogardus-Gaul Pharmacy" and remained in the same location.

This iteration of the store can be seen in the postcard below, printed around 1965 by the Mutual Wholesale Stationary Limited, London, Ont., just to the left of the Scotia Bank building.

(Courtesy of John Parkyn.)

You can get a better view of the store front in this photograph at the Guelph Civic Museums archive: 1992.28.188.

Frederick Bogardus retired in 1957, having been in business in the Royal City for some 53 years (Mercury; 1 April 1968). He received a 50-year jewel from the Waverly Lodge Masonic Order for his long service to that association. He received a certificate from the Ontario College of Pharmacy, Toronto, 2 June 1958, for being a member for 50 years (GCM 2002.6.2). In his retirement, he continued to enjoy his passion for lawn bowling. He died on 31 March 1968 at the Elim Lodge Nursing Home and is buried in Woodlawn Cemetery.

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The Pharmacy itself was carried on by Arthur Bogardus and Orval Gaul. It appears to have remained in business until about 2002, when Arthur Bogardus died. In all, the Bogardus Pharmacy ran in Guelph for 98 years, a remarkable span.

Please feel free to leave anything further that you know about Arthur Bogardus and his pharmacy in the comments. It would be especially interesting to hear about the later years of the business and the Bogardus Rose Bowl trophy (GPL F45-0-2-0-0-1876) associated with the Guelph Lawn Bowling Club.

Thanks to Kathleen Wall of the Guelph Civic Museums for help with research for this post!

Eramosa Rd.

This postcard presents a view of Eramosa Rd. (incorrectly labelled "Eramora Road") looking northward from the intersection of Eramosa, Woolwich St. and Upper Wyndham.

Text on the back of the card indicates that it was produced by "The International Stationary Co., Picton, Canada". It is one of a series of postcards of Guelph printed by the company, all done in this warm, sepia tone, with a narrow white frame and art-nouveau-font label on the front.

The photo clearly shows incandescent street lamps, directly above the hat of the woman in the foreground, that were introduced to downtown Guelph in 1912. The card is postmarked for June 1st, 1916, so the image can be dated to ca. 1915.

This card is one of my favourites. It is an unusual card in the sense that it is a professional card that has people in the foreground. Most professional cards of Guelph, at least in the Edwardian era, are of notable structures or places, less often of activities or events. Activity cards often feature people but focus on leisure or recreation, e.g., strolling in the park. Here, the ladies crossing Woolwich St. are in the foreground, but are not engaged in a recreation. Indeed, they are dressed in their fancy attire. So, what are they doing?

It is hard to be sure, but the photo offers some clues. Union Jacks and Ensigns are seen flying in the windows above (James) Steele's Wire Works (the building on the corner at the right margin of the photo). A line of Union Jacks and perhaps other flags is suspended across the road from Craven's Furniture to Trafalgar Square, opposite. (Henry Craven is listed as an upholsterer in the 1917 Vernon's City Directory, at 5 Trafalgar Square). In "Guelph: Take a look at us!", Donald Coulman provides a picture of the Dominion Day parade in downtown in 1912, noting that the buildings are covered in patriotic bunting (1977, n. 180). Dominion Day marked the establishment of Canada as a confederation and a British dominion on July 1st, 1867. (It is now known as Canada Day.) It could be that the ladies in the foreground are on their way to a Dominion Day celebration.

The background is also interesting. The Trafalgar Square road continues from the picture's center down to the Eramosa bridge. Eramosa then continues dramatically up and over the crest of Eramosa hill on its way out of town.

Things are happening along the roadway. A car appears to be turning off the road in the middle ground. Is it a Model T? Perhaps it is headed into the garage next to Craven's Furniture. Vernon's directory lists a "Maylor Auto Sales" at 9 Trafalgar Square, which seems likely to be the garage in the picture. The directory lists seven "garages" in total, suggesting that cars were becoming popular in the city, even at this relatively early date.

Further down the road, beside the furniture store, is a passenger rail car, apparently sitting on the Canadian Pacific Railway tracks next to the road. I gather that it is not going to cross the road since the white barrier poles on either side of the tracks are raised to permit traffic to cross.

Then comes the Eramosa bridge, spanning the Speed River. After the bridge, the colouration of the roadway seems to change, suggesting that the pavement ended there and that Eramosa road remained a dirt road at the time.

Although it is necessarily a snapshot, the picture provides an interesting tension. The three figures in the foreground approach the camera, walking with a purpose, even as Eramosa Road seems to lead the eye off in the opposite direction, away from the camera and over the horizon. Also, the different means of mobility, that is, walking, driving, and riding the train, remind the viewer about the places in the area outside of the frame of the picture. Retrospectively, the presence of the cars makes me think about how profoundly automotive traffic is about to change the city and the lives of the people in it.

Here is the current Street View image of the same vantage:

View Larger Map

Many of the details have changed. For example, the roadway has been widened, squeezing Trafalgar Square in order to accommodate more cars on Eramosa. The buildings on the right margin have been replaced by The Matrix Centre. Eramosa Road has replaced the "Trafalgar Square" address and now meets Woolwich St. However, the topology of the streets remains essentially the same.

The postcard was sent through the mail, so the back has some interesting things on it as well. First, it has a two-cent stamp, reflecting the fact that rates for postcards increased from one to two cents in 1915 for North American delivery. The text of the letter reads as follows:

Thurs. a.m.
Dear Margaret: Rec. your card. have the house-cleaning just about done. giving Ida a party on sat. after-noon. if Sid doesn't get off, you had better come up over sunday. Ida would like you to be here for her party.
With love from all
Grace and the boss

The receiving address is: "Mrs. S. Dudley, 88 Indian Grove, Toronto, Ont". I wonder if Margaret made it for the party. Or Sid. And, who was "the boss"?

St. George's Square

This panoramic postcard depicts the epicenter of downtown Guelph, namely St. George's Square, looking north.  The street to the left is Upper Wyndham St., whereas the street on the right is Douglas Street.

This postcard is an unusual one because it is, so far, the only double postcard in my collection.  That is, it is the width of two standard postcards.  If you look in the middle of the card, you can see a crease where it is designed to be folded in half, with the picture on the inside.  I suppose this arrangement makes sense since it leaves the destination address visible outside to the mail handlers.

The card was printed by the Warwick Bro's & Rutter of Toronto, which we have seen before.  The card was not sent or postmarked, so the date of production is unclear.  However, the scene itself can be dated by clues from the structures depicted in it.

For example, note the tower of the "Old Post Office" in the center of the picture.  In A Picture History of Guelph (p. 56), Robert Stewart notes that the clock was installed in the tower in 1906.  Since the tower is shown with its clock, it cannot be older that that.

Notice also that the streetcars in the picture are diverted around the fountain and plantings in the octagonal island in the middle of the Square.  (The fountain was known as "Blacksmith Fountain" and has since been moved to another location.)  A photo from the Guelph Public Library database, taken of the Guelph "Old Boys Reunion" in 1908, shows that the island had been replanted strictly with grass and restructured into an oval shape, with its long axis aligned with Wyndham St.  So, the postcard, with its octagonal island, cannot be newer than that.

Therefore, let's say that the photo in the postcard was taken ca. 1907.

One of the most basic questions about St. George's Square is, "How did it get that name?"  In the postcard, if you look down Douglas Street to the right of the Old Post Office, you can see the spire of St. George's Anglican Church reaching upwards at the end of the block.  In fact, St. George's Church was originally located in the middle of the Square, right about where the Fountain later stood.  As noted in the History of St. George's Parish (p. 3), John Galt, the founder of Guelph, had "set aside for the Anglicans a plot of rising ground where they might build their church."  The first St. George's was a frame building, followed by a stone structure on the same site.  However, a third and perhaps more convenient St. George's Church was built from 1870 on Woolwich St., at the end of Douglas.  This move allowed the creation of St. George's Square, a generous public space in the middle of the city, named in honour of the structure that made way for it.

St. George's Square remains the middle of downtown Guelph, although its configuration and environment have been profoundly altered, as the current Google Streetview image shows:


View Larger Map

There are plenty more views of St. George's Square, so we shall return!