1884-12-01a The Lights Go Out

As November 1884 was coming to an end in Hamilton, the thought of the approaching winter was chilling the hearts of most citizens of the Ambitious City

Some snow had fallen and temperatures had dropped noticeably over the past few days.

As the darkness of evening descended on November 29, 1884, things appeared to be reasonably normal.

The large retail stores in the downtown core were open as usual for the business, the pool and billiard rooms were full and nearly all the city barbers were at work providing shaves and haircuts.

There were some electric lights on in a few city homes and businesses but for the most part in 1884, lighting was provided by the Hamilton Gas company.

At the office of the Hamilton Spectator, the lone reporter on duty on that Saturday evening was wondering what significant news, if any, might occur that he could write up for Monday’s edition of the paper.

The reporter’s quiet start to the evening suddenly took a turn towards hectic activity:

““About 8:45, the supply failed, and the city was plunged into darkness, except here and there where the electric light held sway. The gas did not give out instantaneously. Gradually the lights flickered and faded, grew dim and then went out.

“The greatest confusion and excitement prevailed¹

¹ “By Lamp and Candle : The Gas Goes Out and Darkness Reigns Supreme”

Hamilton Spectator. December 1, 1884.

Quickly grabbing his coat, hat and note pad, the young man from The Spec rushed out into the city’s downtown streets to record what was happening.

He quickly dropped in several of the stores open that evening:

“Merchants rushed from their shops and up and down the streets to see if their neighbours had been treated the same as they were.

“Candles and lamps were in great demand. More candle and coal oil were burned in this city than have been before in a good many years. Merchants speedily had long rows of lamps and candles  on their counters and sold their goods by this light.

“The streets were dark. The appearance of the stores was most peculiar.”¹

There were many pool and billiard rooms in the downtown core, and the reporter dropped into a couple of them:

“In the pool and billiard rooms, games were interrupted and never finished. The electric light in the Royal Hotel billiard room was a fortune to it. The room was crowded all the evening and lots of fellows were ready to pay a premium to get at the tables. In some places, lamps were brought in, but, as a rule, the cues were quietly put in their racks and the doors were locked.” ¹

There was even a greater number of barber shops open on Saturday evening and a few of them were visited by the reporter:

“In the barber shops, there was many a funny scene. Customers lay in their chairs while the lather dried on their faces, and the Knights of the strap and razor were hunting up lamps. In at least one place, lights could not be procured, and those who were yearning for an application of soap and steel had to take it out in yearning.”¹

The Opera House on James Street North had a nearly full house for a play during that Saturday evening. The management of the Opera house were contacted by the Hamilton Gas company warning of the imminent end of the gas supply:

“Probably the state of affairs was worse at the Opera House than anywhere else in the city. The management had received word that the gas supply was liable to give, and, during the first act, Mr. Boucicault announced this to the audience, to do away with any possibility of panic.

“The management procured a quantity of candles, and, by candlelight, the performance was proceeded with. Along the footlights, on the orchestra rail, in fact wherever there was a chance to stick a candle, there a candle was.

“The sight was the most unusual one that probably ever greeted Hamilton theater-goers. The performers came on carrying candles, and to one interior scene additional light and grace was lent by a stable lantern on a mantel-piece.”¹

The reporter made a quick visit to a residential section and seeing the homes in complete darkness, assumed that many residents had simply “sought the arms of Morpheus” and had gone to bed .

The Spec man ended his article as follows:

“The confusion extended all over the city.

“To a great extent, business was paralyzed. Saturday night was the worst possible night the thing could have occurred.

“But there is one consolation with it all. We will know on dark nights after this why the street lamps are lighted. And it is worth some little discomfort to gain that knowledge.”¹