“It will be remembered that last
spring a man named Kenneth Mackenzie, who was in the employ of J. Martin, a
spring-bed manufacturer in the city, ran away with a Mrs. Small and some of
Martin’s money.”
Hamilton Spectator. August 11,
1884.
When Kenneth Martin abruptly departed the city, his wife and child were
left in a destitute condition.
Mrs. May Mackenzie was a sickly woman, unable to work very much. There
was some household furniture left in her possession, plus her own stock of
clothing:
“She gave up housekeeping and boarded with Mrs. Boviard, of 57 Robert
street. She managed to live by selling her clothing and furniture, but had it
not been for the kindness of her landlady and Mrs. Legerwood, a warm friend of
hers who lived a few doors away, she would have died of starvation more than
once.”1
1 “Her Unfortunate End : Mrs. Mackenzie’s Sad Death
Yesterday : The Close of a Career That Was Blighted By a Man’s Villainy – An
Inquest To Be Held.”
Hamilton Spectator. August 11,
1884.
May Mackenzie had come to Hamilton with her husband in January, 1883 from
the United States. Her husband used the name Kenneth Mackenzie after he came to
Hamilton, but May confessed to her friend that his name was actually Holmes
Mackenzie and that he was on the lam from New York state where he was facing an
embezzlement charge.
The Mackenzie’s seemed to outsiders to be a reasonably happy family, but
that changed :
“They always lived happily together and it was on account of no quarrel
or disagreement with her that he left, but on account of his blind infatuation
for another woman.”1
So much was known about May Mackenzie’s situation as of August 9, 1884 :
“On Saturday night, Mrs. Mackenzie retired, complaining of feeling
unwell. She is subject to convulsions and since last spring, she has had them
several times, Mrs. Legerwood, her friend, aiding her. She said Saturday
evening that she thought she was going to have another attack.
“On retiring, she locked her door. This morning she did not open it, and
as the day wore away the people began to get somewhat alarmed and finally at
5:30 o’clock, Police Constable McBride was called in. He broke open her bedroom
door and she was found lying face downward, her face buried in a pillow, and
her little year-old child beside her.”1
It was thought that a coroner’s inquest was necessary as the cause of death was unclear.
There was a possibility in some minds that May Mackenzie had poisoned herself,
although her friend, Mrs. Legerwood, was not favor of the idea of suicide
feeling that May had simply died of natural causes.
The Spectator coverage of the tragic story concluded as follows:
“Mrs. Mackenzie was a quiet, unassuming, well-educated and lady-like
woman, and was both respected and beloved by those who knew her.
“Her lot has been very sad and unfortunate, and she had the sincere
sympathy of those who knew her, and the story of her husband’s cruel and
heartless desertion of her, and her subsequent struggle for existence for
herself and her helpless child. She was 44 years of age.”1