The City of Hamilton is composed of the following farms : Commencing at
the 1st ward, eastern limits, Richard Springer’s (father of David),
then George Hamilton (the founder of the city) then Peter Hunter Hamilton, then
land belonging to Peter Hess, then Mr. Mills, who was a farmer, tavern-keeper
and tailor. We now cross over King street, and the first is Mr. Mills, then
land belonging to Peter Hess – Mr. Hess did not live on his property below the
mountain; he had a tannery and farm, near Terryberry’s Corners; then Mr. Samuel
Kirkendall, 40 acres which came down to James street, then Mr. Hughson, then
Mr. Ferguson, then Col. Robert Land. These comprised the whole plot of the city
as it now is, with the exception of some broken front owned by Col. Richard Beasley,
who resided in a house where Dundurn now stands, and kept a store. His trade
was almost entirely with the Indians for peltries.
The village at this time – 1818-20 – was made up almost entirely of inns.
There were Mr. Mills’ on the corner of King and Queen streets; Mr. Miller’s ,
on the corner of King and James streets; Mr. Carey’s, near where the new custom
house is now being erected; the Gore inn, on the site of Wanzer’s factory, and
Price’s inn, corner of King and Wellington streets. There were two store-houses
– one at the foot of James street, owned by Mr. Robert Hughson, who also kept a
tavern; the other at the mouth of the inlet below the hat factory. The latter
one was owned by Mr. Abel Land, and was by far the more extensive, as Mr. Land
owned a battean with which he conveyed wheat, flour, pot, pot and pearl ashes –
of which considerable quantities were shipped from this port prior to the
opening of the canal, 1826-27, across the bay and through the outlet of schooners waiting opposite Burlington to
receive them. This outlet was near the present Brant house, and boats drawing
three feet of water could pass through.
The surface of the ground upon which the city is built was much broken by
gullies conveying the water from the mountain after heavy rains to the bay.
All the farms mentioned had extensions orchards of apples, it being a
celebrated locality for that fruit. Richard Springer had a cider mill, worked
by an immense wooden screw, which was at the service of all his neighbors – no
charge being made for its use.
THERE WERE TWO SCHOOLS
In the village, one log
building, 18 x 21, near the corner of Wellington and King streets; the other,
called the district school, in a frame building opposite the present female
college.
In
the first, Dr. Mullin, who studied medicine with Mr. Smith, Mr. Flanigan, who
took orders in the English church; Mr. Straghan, a rather wild Irishman, and
our worthy police magistrate, taught in the order named. Only the first
rudiments of English education were taught in this school. It would be thought
now outrageous to crowd fifty odd pupils in the small space afforded by this
log house; but there were almost always that number present, and all seemed to
go finely. No complaints about want of air, etc., being ever heard.
In
the district school, under the charge of Mr. Law, were taught the higher
branches – the classics, grammar, mathematics, etc. Mr. Law was a very strict
disciplinarian, standing lads on one leg was his favourite punishment, but he
did not ignore the strap. When he would be hearing one lad in Latin, he
generally had another on one leg at the other end of the school room, while he
walked up and down with a blackthorn stick in his hand. When his back was
turned, the lad would rest his toe on the floor; but the rest was short, as Mr.
Law suddenly turning about, would give him a whack on the shin, which soon
brought his foot up again.
Pupils
came to Mr. Law from Dundas – walking down in the morning and back again at
night. Mr. Randall succeeded Mr. Law – the latter having studied and admitted
to the bar. Mr. Randall left the school to edit a paper called the Free Press;
but his opinions were too advanced for the times, and he was compelled to leave
the country. The next, and last, master of the district school was Mr. Tassie
THE
FIRST
Drug store in the village was
opened by Dr. Mullin, on the site now occupied by the Hamilton and Dundas
railway depot. The first stonemasons were John and Charles Duffy. They obtained
half an acre of land, extending along Hughson street, to Jackson, for building
the foundation of Mr. Geo. Hamilton’s new house (1819). The first bricklayer
and stonecutter was named Watson. He also got half an acre of land running from
Jackson to Main on Catharine street, for building the chimneys in the same
house.
The
first blacksmith was Mr. David Farley. His shop was on the site of Alex.
McKay’s flour store. Ezkial McCann was a very early settler in the village. He
was a weaver and lived in a log house on King street near Wellington. James
Miller was the first shoemaker, and lived on John street, above Jackson. Mr.
Gray was the first tailor to locate here. He it was, who in performing his
duty, as path-master, cut down a fine row of oak trees, which grew on King
street from James to Mary streets. These trees were very fine ones – of the
original forest and stood from two to four rods apart. Many were opposed to
this act of Mr. Gray, and he did not succeed in laying the mighty oaks low
without having to fight several battles.
There
were at the time
TWO
STORES
in the village – one kept by Mr.
Sheldon on the corner of John and King, but on the opposite side of King. In
1829, Mr. Sheldon retired, and Colin Ferrie, from Montreal, opened a general
store in his place. Mr. Ferrie afterwards married Col. Beasley’s daughter and
became president of the Gore bank.
I
need not speak of the tavern keepers as I have already named them. A firm by
the name of Cay & Knight carried on a furniture factory on the northwest
corner of King and James streets. It was in this building that Sir Allan Macnab
afterward opened his law office. Sir Allan
had an only son who accidentally shot himself in a piece of woods where
Augusta street now stands. Through this woods ran a small stream, and in
crossing this, the lad used his gun as a vaulting pole, when it discharged,
killing him instantly.
At
the time, Hamilton was made the shire town. George Hamilton gave to the
district the gore, the block of land bounded now by John, Jackson, Catherine
and Main streets. On the southwest corner of this plot stood an
OLD
LOG JAIL
the logs of which it had been
constructed, had been used during the war in a block house on the heights. The
jail set all the present sanitary laws at defiance in more ways than one. It
consisted of four rooms, all equal in size, about fourteen feet square. Two of
these were for general prisoners, one for debtors, and in the other, the jailer
and his family lived. This family consisted of himself, wife and three boys.
Besides these, the jailer’s wife being a thrifty woman, took in three boarders
– the two Duffys and James Milroy herein spoken of. The boarders and the boys
slept in a building outside of the jail yard, used at court time as jury rooms.
In
each cell was a narrow slit opening out in the yard. This yard was surrounded
by pickets – pine logs set in the ground and about fourteen feet high,
sharpened at the top. The cells inside had holes in the doors about eight
inches square – these were in the hall, which was four feet wide, but open only
at the north end. Each cell was provided with a tub which was emptied once in
24 hours. Now the sanitarians of today would say so many people could not live
for a week in such quarters. There were generally of debtors and criminals
about seven confined at one time. Still all the people who had passed about ten
years there not only lived without ever being sick, but died at advanced ages.
The jailer, M. Rolston, was 83 at the time of his death, Mrs. Rolston, 89,
James Miller, 86, the two Duffys nearly 80 each, and of the three boys, one
died of yellow fever in New Orleans in 1854, the other two are still alive, one
74 and the other 70 – both likely to last some years yet. There was no sickness
among the prisoners, and no death occurred in the nine years the old log jail was
used.
Prisoners
were allowed one pound of bread, and a quart of water per day. The bread was
strictly weighed out to them, but they got as much water as they desired, as
some of the boys were generally on hand to fill their pannikans whenever they
were handed out through the hole in the door.
Over
the jail was the court room, which extended over all the lower building. It was
a frame structure and was entered by a door on John street and, wide stairs
leading from the ground outside.
A
HANGING
Here
was tried and convicted, the man Vincent, for murdering his wife in Beverly,
and who had such an extraordinary send off when hanged.
The
hangman was a negro prisoner, who obtained his liberty for the job. The gallows
was erected at the John street end of
the building used as a jury room, and the window of the second story being
removed, the doomed man and the negro stepped out directly on the drop, the
sheriff and others remaining inside.
A
large crowd filled the vacant space around and were kept back by a troop of cavalry.
The negro put the rope on which the noose had been made over the head of
Vincent, placing the know behind his right ear; he then stepped inside the
window, not having pulled the cap down over the convict’s eyes.
The man stood looking straight before him for some moments, when, probably
wondering at the delay, he turned his head to look in at the window, at this
moment the bolt was withdrawn, the trap descended slowly, and he slid off with
the knot under his chin, his legs not having been secured in any way, he
commenced to kick backwards, evidently trying to get his feet against the
gallows trap door behind him; this he succeeded in doing several times, but of
course, he could not hold on. The sheriff looked out of the window and, seeing
the man’s face naked, threw a grain bag over it.
The man still drew great breaths, raising himself up at each inspiration.
This continued for nearly half an hour, when the negro appeared on the ground
at the man’s feet, he seized him by the legs, swung his whole weight on him, and soon Vincent had to succumb.
All this occupied thirty-five minutes. The negro, when hanging on Vincent’s
legs, though at first a very black man, had become a light blue color.
(To be continued)
- transcribed from the following article -
- transcribed from the following article -
“Hamilton As It Was : Something Over Half a
Century Ago : Remarkable Incidents Told of By One Who was There and Who Knows
All About It”
By Thomas Ralston, Caretaker, Central Public School
Hamilton Spectator March 3, 1885
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