Sunday, 18 March 2018

1885-05-21 St. Mark's Mission

 “This new place of worship, to be opened this evening by the Bishop of Niagara – assisted by Revs. Carmichael,  Curran, Massey, Ford (Toronto) and others – is situated on Herkimer street, near Garth street, and is a very neat structure.” 1

1  “St Mark’s Mission Church”

Hamilton Times     May 21, 1885.

St. Mark’s Anglican Church at the corner of Bay and Hunter streets had only been open a few years, but already in the early 1880s, it had been observed that the areas to the west and south of the church would soon be rapidly filled in with residences.

As a result, it was decided that a mission church, St. Mark’s Mission, would be opened in the area. After extensive planning and funding-raising, the mission church was ready to be opened.

A reporter for the Hamilton Times was given a tour of the St. Mark’s Mission, and the plans for its opening:

 The building is frame and ecclesiastical  in design. The interior is comfortably, though not expensively, fitted up. There is a chancel, with raised altar (upon which stands cross and vasce), having dossel hangings and frontal.

“The seating capacity is set down as 150, but the benches are so arranged that more accommodation can be given if necessary. The estimated cost is said to be about $700, and this sum has been secured by gentlemen outside of St. Mark’s congregation. Services will held every Sunday afternoon at 4 o’clock and every Thursday at 8, the rector (Rev. R. G. Sutherland, M.A.) conducting the same.

“The musical portion of the service will be strictly plain, but a small organ will be used for hymns. The Sunday school will be under the superintendence of Mr. F. G. Whatley, a gentleman who is thoroughly competent to manage so important an auxiliary to a church. During the winter months, a night school will be held, a boon which no doubt many young people in the neighborhood will appreciate.”1

The Times article concluded with the observance that the mission church was needed immediately and in the future:

“The growth of the city in this direction has improved greatly during the past few years, and a building similar to the one referred to had been asked for by members of the Church of England living in this locality; the want is now supplied and gratifying results will doubtless follow.”1

St. Mark’s Mission was formally opened on May 21, 1885. A Spectator reporter in attendance wrote the following account to be printed in the next day’s paper:

 “Last evening the mission church in connection with St. Mark’s parish was opened under the most favorable auspices. There was a large congregation and the greatest interest taken in the proceedings. Parts of St. Mark’s choir were in attendance and a procession was formed in which several city clergymen and the Bishop took part. Rev. R. G. Sutherland read the prayers and collects, Rev. Canon Curran the first lesson, Rev. Hartley Carmichael the second lesson.

“The rector gave notice of the intended services to be held and solicited several articles not yet provided to complete the church – porch, library, prayer and hymn books, matting etc. A list of names was also read of those ladies and gentlemen who had kindly secured the amount necessary to liquidate the actual necessary expenses of the building. They are as follows : Rev. Dr. Mockridge, Rev. Hartley Carmichael, Rev. R. G. Sutherland, Mrs. Fuller, Mrs. Valancey Fuller, Mrs. Ridley, Mrs. Orr, Mrs. McGiverin, Mrs. Ainsley, Messrs. A. Bruce, I. O. Macklin, George S. Papps, Hugh C. Baker, Jas. Bicknell, John W. Burns, D. Kmp, Pinkett, Studdart, A. Brown, W. E. Brown, Henry McLaren. Carpet for altar steps was also presented.

“Short and appropriate addresses followed by Revs. Curran, Carmichael, and Massey. The Bishop of Niagara then made a very suitable address, expressing his pleasure at the growth of the Church of England in this city, and highly commended the idea of mission church being opened in localities similar to the west end, as places of worship had a good effect upon the morals of the people, and these effects were more rapidly brought about by anticipating the wants of the locality, rather than waiting for a large growth in population.

“After the offertory, the Bishop pronounced the Benediction. The whole service was joined in by those present, and three favorite hymns – ‘Sun of my Soul,’ ‘Nearer My God to Thee’ and ‘All People That on Earth Do Dwell’ – were never more heartily given by a mixed congregation.”2

2 “St. Mark’s Mission : Interesting Opening of the Mission Church Last Night”

Hamilton Times     May 22, 1885.

1885-05-25 Queen's Birthday Recollections

The issue of the Hamilton Spectator printed on Saturday May 23, 1885 included a list of attractions for Hamiltonians to choose from in planning for their observance of the Queen's Birthday, the following Monday. The actual date of Queen Victoria's birthday fell on a Sunday, so the festivities had to be pushed forward a day.
In the same issue, a Spectator reporter interviewed a man who choose to express his opinions on the way that the Queen's Birthday had been celebrated in his youth, twenty years previously in 1865 :

“ ‘Well, what do you intend doing Monday?’ asked a Spectator reporter of one of the grand army of bachelors on the shade side of thirty.

“ ‘Oh, I dun’no; possibly take in a park and put in an easy time generally. Plenty to choose from. That proposed feu-de-joie, by the way, revives old recollections.’

“ ‘Tell you what it is,’ he resumed a moment later, branching into a side issue as a small boy was observed covertly smothering an ignited firecracker on the near approach of a policeman; ‘the boys of the present day don’t know what fun is, compared with the youth of twenty years ago. In those days, we could beg or steal old bones, boiler bottoms and scrap iron for months ahead and convert them into cash to procure the coveted supply of powder and fireworks. No boy was thought of much accountwho did not possess either a pistol or cannon of some description, and the racket we kicked up Queen’s birthday morning was enough to raise the dead. The greater the noise, the happier the boy. Plenty of shot guns were pressed into service, too, and fired along the streets without fear of the law. Didn’t appear to be any more fires or accidents in consequence either. The parades were next in order. Those were the balmy days of the volunteer fire department, and it was a pretty cold 24th when the members thereof didn’t blossom out in the full colors of the rainbow. Caller act, No. 2, a piano-box engine, was the favorite, pressed hard by Neptune the hose reel. Rescue No. 2 was composed of rather tough material, largely from Corktown, which invariably demonstrated later in the day when the ‘bhoys’ got limbered up with forty rod. The hook and bucket brigade made a good showing as well. Well, the military turnout, composed of the British regulars then in the city, and the volunteers, in connection with the firemen, was the big feature of the day. All Hamilton generally put in appearance at the back of the palace to witness the evolutions and the firing of the feu-de-joie, which was then a regular institution. The small boy was at his wit’s end to know how to dispose of his store of coppers to best advantage as he passed the numerous toffee stalls that lined King street all the way to the parade ground. Seems to me folks were grittier then. There were no street cars in those days, and you’d see a woman dragging babes from the other end of the city, with three or four kids hanging to her skirts; face was red as old what’s-his-name, but happy, bound to see a show and give the young ones a chance as well. The Calithumpians and the races divided up the honors of the afternoon and civic fireworks wound up the day.’

“ ‘No doubt,’ he continued after a satisfactory glimpse through the bottom of a soda-water glass, ‘the present way of celebrating is an improvement on the past. About the only thing to be said in its favor was that the money spent was mainly kept in the city, instead of being bestowed on railway travel and outside attractions. Per contra, there was a full amount bad whiskey drank, fights innumerable, and as for the uproar we boys kicked up, to experience it now would drive me crazy. We had our time, and as for the present generation, you know, what the eye don’t see the heart don’t sigh for – barring, of course, a feller’s best girl going back on him Have something? What ! Nothing? Well, what’s going to happen?’ ”
Hamilton Spectator. May 23, 1885

Saturday, 17 March 2018

1886-05-22ss Baseball Writers' Rivalry

The International League, comprised a minor league professional teams in both Ontario and New York state, began in 1886. Two of the teams included teams from both the city of Toronto and the city of Hamilton. Not only were the teams bitter rivals on the field, the reporters who covered the games between team equally competitive.

On May 22, 1886, the Spectator reprinted a withering criticism of its reporter assigned to cover baseball which follows :

 “ ‘The youth who writes baseball slang for the Hamilton Spectator is doubtless a ‘daisy’ in his own estimation, but other people  appear to be ridiculously slow in discovering the fact. Yesterday he took the Globe to task for its report of Tuesday’s game, and quotes five expressions, only one of which was wrong, and that was the slangy use of the word ‘willow’ for bat. He finds fault with the use of the word ‘innings’ (which he commences with a capital letter.). Now, to quote such authorities as the Imperial Dictionary and ‘Stormouth’ to such a youth would be like casting pearls before swine, but if he will accept an authority nearer the level of his standard of culture and intelligence, let him consult Spalding’s Official Baseball Guide, page95, rule 48 which says ‘The choice of first innings shall be determined by the two captains.’ – Toronto Globe”

Quoted in  “Globular Baseball”

Hamilton Spectator     May 22, 1886.

The Spectator baseball writer was not one to take an insult without a response :

“The babe and suckling who writes baseball slang for the Spectator is willing to admit that he knows more about baseball than about dictionaries. That is the reason he holds the baseball job. The Spectator sends another man – a learned and aged person – to report dictionaries.

“The Globe makes the mistake of sending its dictionary man to the ball field. And the babe and suckling of the Spectator is not sure that the Globe’s dictionary man is any too well up in the dictionary business, for it is not generally supposed to be strictly correct to allude to Stormouth’s dictionary as ‘Stormouth.’  The gentlemen who compiled the Imperial and “Stormouth’ probably never saw a game of baseball – possibly never heard of the game – and cannot know much more about it than the Globe does.

“ Spalding’s Guide is a very good authority on baseball; but is not generally acknowledged to be an authority on orthography. One inning is an inning; two or more are innings; inning should begin with a capital I when the word begins a sentence, as it did in the case referred to by the Globe; if one inning is an innings, two innings must be meaningless. That is the way the youth of the Spectator puts it.”1

1  “Globular Baseball”

Hamilton Spectator     May 22, 1886.

In that same issue of the Spectator, a poem was reprinted, a poem which had appeared in another Hamilton newspaper, the Palladium of Labor, a weekly mainly concerned with labor issues but which also covered the immensely popular, at the time, game of baseball and Hamilton’s home team, the Clippers. It had been written after the Clippers had lost two games in a row (the Clippers had won the pennant the previous year) :

“Oh where, oh where are the Clippers, the Clippers of last year,

 Who, when e’er they they went to play a game no defeat did we fear;

 They were the pride of Hamilton, and well they earned that name.

“With Jerry Moore and Stapleton, Rainey and Andrus, too,

 Crogan and Charley Wilson, whose errors were so few;

 Collins and Billy Hunter, and Chamberlin by the powers –

“So put your shoulder to the wheel; let there be no more such play

 As we have seen these last two games – it’s not your usual way;

 But keep your error score low, your base hits good and high.

 And then at Dundurn next fall, we’ll see the pennant fly.”

-      R. A. Langlois, 45 York street’

The prize poet of the Palladium.@

                2 “Poetry, By a Poet”

Hamilton Spectator     May 22, 1886.

Saturday, 10 March 2018

1886-08-24 Mikado

The Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera, Mikado or the Town of Tupitu, was publically unveiled in March, 1885. By 1886, it was estimated that  by mid-1886, there were at least 150 companies performing the Mikado all across Europe and North America.

The Mikado first was seen by Hamiltonians in July 1886 at the Grand Opera House. It was so well-received, and tickets were so hard to come by, that the same company was brought back to repeat their staging of the Mikado just a few weeks later. As the Grand Opera House was already booked, the company was booked into the Palace theater.

Following is the Spectator’s review of the Mikado as performed in Hamilton on August 23, 1886 :

“A week’s season of The Mikado was begun last night at the Palace theater, where a really excellent performance of Gilbert & Sullivan’s opera was given.

“Familiarity with the queer people created by Gilbert’s futile fancy, and the appropriate and tuneful music of Sullivan, does not seem to breed contempt in the minds of the public, for the more they see and hear the opera, the more they seem to like it.

“Last night the grotesquerie of Ko Ko and the Mikado, the archness of  the three little maids, the sharp humor developed in Katisha’s character, the funny dignity of Pooh Bah, Mr. Taylor as Nanki-Poo, and the general eccentricity of the chorus provoked as much mirth, pleasure and enthusiasm as they did at the first performance of the opera here. The company is the same one, with only one or two changes in the solo cast, that performed at the Grand Opera house several weeks ago.

“Mr. Herbert as Koo-Koo, Mr. Broderick as Poo Bah, Mr. Taylor as Nanki-Poo and Miss Baker as Katisha are so good that it would be difficult to suggest any improvement in their delineations of these characters. They are genuinely and highly artistic in the utter absurdity of their delineations as well as in their vocalism. Indeed, all the soloists of this company are capable and clever, but those mentioned bear off the honors.

“Mr. Packard’s Mikado is quite as funny, though less unctuous, than that of Mr. Harris. Mr. Herbert was encored in every one of his solos, and was recalled five or six times after his best ones. Miss Baker also came in for a liberal share of the enthusiasm which abounded. The chorus, though not large, is well-trained, both in stage business and singing, and do their work better than when they were heard here before. A very fair orchestra of eight pieces, besides a piano, gives a satisfactory completeness to the performance.

“This company will, as announced, appear at the Palace theater every evening this week and tomorrow and Saturday afternoons. The Mikado will be the attraction at each performance, excepting, perhaps, when a new opera will be given. This new piece is a potpourri  called the Big Tycoon, the characters and music of which are taken from Gilbert & Sullivan’s operas. The combination of old and well-known characters and new situations promises to be both interesting and amusing.

“The audience last night was large, and went away so much pleased that the prospects for a successful engagement for the company are extremely favorable.”1

1 “The Mikado Again”

Hamilton Spectator. August 24, 1886

1886-08-20 McPherson Memory

One of the most well-known members of the Hamilton Police force in the 1870s and early 1880s was Detective McPherson.

          McPherson had spent some time in the state of Colorado, when that state was very much a wild west state. After coming to Hamilton and serving as a detective, the popular detective, Mac, maintained close relationships with reporters with both the Hamilton Times and the Hamilton Spectator.

          Mac eventually moved on from Hamilton and perhaps his experience as related in the Spectator of August 20, 1886 contributed to his desire to leave:

 “Ex-Detective McPherson was a good soul and pretty generally liked. I am one of those in Hamilton who hope he will do well in the great west from whence he came. He went out of business about as poor as when he came in, and for all his toil got nothing but a living and some experience of human nature. Mac was always a good friend to the boys, and was ever ready to do them a good turn.


“His one weakness was the desire to see himself in print. Before coming to Hamilton he had been in Colorado, where he had a great many wild and terrible adventures with robbers, Indians, bandits and other society people. Mac’s great wish was to have this part of his career written up in book form, after the Pinkerton style. Scarcely a newspaper man in the city but has at one time or another been asked to undertake the work. At one time there was employed on a Hamilton paper a singularly gifted young man, whose cleverness was shut out from being put to practical use through an inordinate passion for drink. This erratic genius happened to meet Mac one day after he had left the police force, and an arrangement was entered into between them by which the journalist was to write the book, Mac to publish it, and the profits to be equally divided.

“ ‘When can you take some notes?’ Mac asked.

“ ‘Right now. Shall we go inside?’

“ They went in. Mac got on the business side of the bar, while the reporter leaned over a produced a pencil and a roll of paper. Mac told his story while the other man made enigmatical marks. Every few minutes operations would be stopped for a drink or a cigar, and the best liquor and the finest cigars Mac had were none too good for the occasion. Before the reporter left he was feeling sublimely indifferent to mundane affairs, and didn’t care whether he pinned his happiness to anything more stable than a feather. Mac pressed a $5 bill in his hand as he was going out to buy paper and pencils, and thence the first lesson ended.


“The reporter was on hand the next afternoon. His eyes were bloodshot, his face and his whole body trembled. Mac gave further particulars, and the newspaperman shorthanded them and got gloriously full again. Day after day the same act was repeated until the best part of a week had passed.

“Then Mac said : ‘Say have you got any of this stuff written up?’

“ ‘Yes, I’ve got it about half done.’

“ ‘Well, bring it around to me tomorrow. I want to look at it before it goes into print.’

“The journalist promised to do it and went out. Mac never saw him again, and a few days afterwards he stopped a well-known newspaperman on the street and said : ‘Where’s ---?’

“ ‘Dunno.’

“Can he write shorthand?’

“ ‘No.’

“ ‘Well ---- that man anyhow.’

“And then Mac told how he had been victimized. It raised a hearty laugh whenever it was told, but it was not an experience Mac was fond of dwelling on.”1

1      “Casually Mentioned”

Hamilton Spectator     August 20, 1886.

Monday, 19 February 2018

1886--08-23eePolice Budget

On Friday, August 20, 1886, Hamilton Police Chief A. D. Stewart, his wife and two young daughters had been in a row boat on the Hamilton bay when a sudden movement by one of the girls capsized the boat.

It was almost a major disaster but at first the chief, and later with the help of two rescuers, everyone was saved. The very next morning, the chief had to attend a meeting of the Hamilton Police Commissioners where the budget estimates for the year’s operations were to be presented for approval.

There were three police commissioners, the Mayor Alex. McKay, the Police Magistrate Cahill and Wentworth County Judge Sinclair. Judge Sinclair was unable to attend the meeting, but the mayor and the police magistrate voted to accept the following budget:


          One police magistrate ……………………. $2,000.00

          One chief constable …...…………………. $1,600.00

          Three sergeants ………………...…………$ 2,175.12

          Four acting sergeants……………….....…$ 2,500.16

          Two detectives..........................................$ 1,450.08

          Two acting detectives ……………….…...$ 1,250.08

          Thirty-three constables…………….……$19, 273.32

          One clerk to the police commissioners…. $150.00

          One police court clerk ……………………...$ 100.04


          Fuel and light……………………………..…...$800.00

          Keep of two horses ……..……...……………$250.00

          Books and stationery…...............................$200.00

          Printing and advertising……………………...$90.00

          Photographing prisoners ……...…………….$20.00


          Telephone service ……………..…………….$192.00

          Incidental expenses …………………………$500.00


          Once the estimates were accepted, Chief Stewart immediately started to campaign for more resources:

          ““The chief suggested that the force should be increased. More men are wanted badly. The city is growing so rapidly that the present force cannot begin to meet the demands upon it. Some of the men are very old and unable to do regular duty.”1

                1  “The Police Commissioners.”

Hamilton Spectator     August  23, 1886.

          There followed a brief discussion on the chief’s request. The mayor, a frequent adversary of the chief, argued against the chief’s request :

          “The commissioners decided not to do anything at present. The mayor said the force was a good one and the citizens are satisfied with it. With the patrol wagon and telephone facilities the men are managing to keep the city comparatively free from crime and surely they could continue it for another year. A great deal of money has to be laid out at once for important public works. This will increase the taxes, and under the present circumstances it is well to run the city departments as economically as possible.”1

                Very shortly afterwards, the ongoing hostility between Mayor McKay and Chief Stewart would boil over.

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

1886-08-21 Chief Stewart and Family Nearly Drowned

August 20, 1886 had been a steamy hot day in Hamilton. Late in the afternoon, Police Chief A. D. boarded his wife, his two daughters on a train for a short trip to the Beach.
Catching the 4:10 North and Northwestern train at the station on King street east, all the Stewarts were excited to escape the noise, dust and smells of the city and take in the cooling breezes beside the lake and bay:
The bay was smooth and the afternoon delightful – a model day for an hour’s rowing – and being an expert boatman and a great lover of the pleasures of boating, Chief Stewart engaged a boat and took his family out on the bay.”1
1 Hamilton Spectator.  August 21, 1886.
The pleasant outing on the bay soon turned very unpleasant :
“At about 5:30, Capt. Campbell and Robert Curtiss went out in a strong row boat to pick up a buoy about a mile from the pier. They were engaged at the buoy when they saw a small boat about a quarter of a mile away from them, nearer to the piers, and as they watched it the boat capsized.
“Captain Campbell is a handy man about the water, and knows just what to do in such a case. His companion is something of the same cut. They bent to their oars without any delay and were soon alongside the upturn skiff, which they discovered to be that in which Chief Stewart had embarked with his family. The two children had gone down and were under the boat.”1
1 “In Hamilton’s Waters : Chief Stewart, His Wife and Family, Nearly Drowned : Their Boat is Capsized Nearly a Mile from Land – Captain Campbell and Robert Curtiss the Rescuers”
Hamilton Spectator     August  21, 1886.
It was a desperate scene as the police chief struggled to save his wife, his children and himself :
“The chief is known to be one of the best swimmers in Canada, and he would have no difficulty in saving himself, but his first thought was to save his wife.
          “He had managed to keep afloat and support her, but his strength was fast failing. The weight of water in their clothes was enough to test the strength of the strongest, while the loose skirts of Mrs. Stewart clung to his limbs, making his efforts almost unavailing. The thought of his children, who, for all he knew were drowning while he was unable to help them must have added doubly to the agony of his position, yet he struggled manfully.”1
                Captain Campbell, the lighthouse keeper, had been involved in many water rescues, and Curtiss, his companion, knew what to do as well:
Mrs. Stewart’s head was two feet under water. Captain Campbell caught her by the skirts, raised her head above water, and held her as scientifically as circumstances would admit until life began to show itself.
          “When first raised above the water, she was quite unconscious, her face being a deep purple in color and breath having ceased to come. The rescuers got the all-but-drowned family into their boat and pulled to the beach.”1
                The rescued family were taken to the biggest hotel on the Beach strip:
          “At the Ocean house, everything possible was done for Mrs. Stewart and the two children, and before long, Dr. Richardson, of Burlington, was in attendance.
“For a time, it was a question whether or not Mrs. Stewart would recover. Her health has not been as strong as might have been desired for a year past, and the terrible shock and exposure, it was feared, might prove too much for her. She began to improve, however, after being brought to consciousness and it is now believed that no serious results will be the outcome of the accident.”1
Back in Hamilton, news of the near-tragedy had arrived but the exact details were unknown :
“Word was sent to friends in this city and changes of clothing were sent down. The occurrence was not generally known of in the city, but what reports did reach here were very much exaggerated and many sympathetic friends were kept in agonizing suspense until the facts were ascertained. Too much praise cannot be given to the rescuers.”
A reporter for the Spectator managed to reach Chief Stewart by telephone, and received a brief statement from him on the incident:
““In talking to the Spectator by telephone, Chief Stewart said that but for the prompt action of Captain Campbell, he feared they all would have been drowned. The capsize, he said, was caused by the children changing their seats and happened so suddenly that it was impossible to prevent it or to take any precaution in the way of saving the lives of those in the boat.””1
The next day, Chief Stewart was back in the city and on duty:
““Chief Stewart returned to the city from the Beach Saturday morning, and was kept busy shaking hands with and receiving the congratulations of his hundreds of friends. He was able to inform all those who inquired, and everyone showed a great deal of anxiety, that Mrs. Stewart was improving and that the little girls were all right.”2
2 “Their Narrow Escape : Chief Stewart’s Experience While in the Waters of the Bay”
Hamilton Spectator     August  23, 1886.
The chief was able to give a full account of the near-tragedy, filling in many details :
“To a Spectator reporter he stated that the report of the occurrence which appeared in the morning’s issue was quite correct but that which occurred from the time of the capsize until the arrival of Captain Campbell had not been mentioned. Just before the capsize, the two little girls, being in one end of the boat wished to go to their mother who was seated in the other. They were told that they must not do so, but in a minute or two they were both attempting to pass their father on the same side of the boat. The upset the boat and the chief went down  immediately. In sinking he saw Mrs. Stewart trying catch the side of the boat, but fail. When he came to the surface, the two children threw their arms around his neck, and prevented him from doing anything to save them. Mrs. Stewart was then four or five yards away from the upturned boat. The chief sank with the two children, but rising immediately he forced them to loosen their hold and then placed them across the keel of the boat, telling them to hold on and keep still until he went to their mother’s rescue. As soon as he turned away, however, they tried to catch hold upon him, and in doing so, went down again. Again he turned to their rescue and brought them to the surface again. This time he managed to right the boat and put the children in it. It was full of water however, and again went over. He then saw a boat but could not tell whether it was coming to them or not. He got the children into the boat again, and by that time he recognized Captain Campbell and knew he was coming to the rescue. Shouting to him to take the children, he turned to his wife, who with deathlike face and purple lips was sinking for the last time. He reached the spot where she had disappeared , and he dove for her, bringing her to the surface by the time Captain Campbell and Curtiss arrived. He aided the captain to raise her into the boat and took care of himself. As soon as he had turned from the children, the boat had turned over again, and the little girls were under it when the captain arrived. Their efforts to attract his attention had upset them.
“ ‘I seemed to have lived a lifetime of agony while in the water,’ said the chief; ‘my wife was on one side of me and my children on the other. When I turned one way to go to my wife’s assistance, I saw my children sink before I could do anything. The thought had just struck me that I might possibly get the three of them on my back when I saw the boat approaching. It arrived none too soon. If the captain had 30 yards further to pull, someone must have been drowned. It was most fortunate that I was a good swimmer and that the rescuers knew exactly what to do under the circumstances.’ ”2
Fully recovered from the shock of the near loss of his wife, daughters and even himself, Chief Stewart was walking through the Hamilton market when he saw a man known to him through that man’s frequent appearances in the prisoner’s dock at the Police Court.  The chief managed to surreptitiously listen to a conversation between that man and a companion :
 “ ‘Nearly drowned, eh ? Well. Well. And the missus and the little ones too ? And Captain Campbell saved them , eh ? Dear me ! And the chief was saved too ? Too bad, too bad.’ ”3
3  “Overheard in the Market.”
Hamilton Spectator     August  25, 1885.