Michael Joyce for Mayor - 1895

The 1895 civic election in Hamilton was highlighted by the campaign performances of mayoral candidate Michael Joyce.

          A familiar character in Hamilton’s downtown core, Michael Joyce, whose face was often referred to as looking like a road map of old Ireland, was well-known for his love of whiskey and clay pipes.

          The Tuckett Tobacco company had painted a huge portrait of Michael’s face on the wall of the Foresters’ hall, at the corner of Gore street (now Wilson Street) and James street north. Shown holding his clay pipe, the caption beside Michael’s face repeated Michael’s familiar expression, “Phwat’s that?”

          Michael Joyce’s ready Irish wit was a constant source of amusement around Hamilton City Hall, where he spent much of his time.

          Especially amusing was Michael’s decision to run for mayor in the 1895 campaign.

          The first major appearance of the Joyce campaign was scheduled for the evening of November 1, 1895. The location chosen was the wood and hay market square, east of John street south (currently south of the Go station. A street name in the immediate vicinity, Haymarket street, commemorates the former use of the property.)

          As a substantial crowd gathered, awaiting Michael Joyce’s first major speech of his campaign, the candidate was in a nearby hotel, fortifying himself with whiskey, ignoring the impatient shouts from outside, demanding his appearance.

          Finally at 8:15 p.m., Michael exited the barroom and climbed on an empty wagon to deliver his speech. As no one had been chosen to act as chairman for the meeting, an amiable young man decided to join Michael on the wagon and, with a few, terse words, introduced the candidate.

          A Spectator reporter in the crowd later wrote that he considered Michael Joyce’s oratory to be “distinctly unparliamentary in character, with a proneness to lapse into profanity when carried away by the flood from his think tanks.”

          Michael began his oration with an attack on City Hall people, referring to them as a close knit community who wanted to keep workingmen on the outside. In a contest between a rich man and a workingman, Michael declared, “the rich man won every time, hands down!”

          City Relief Officer Hutton, who Michael cynically called “me fren,” was a particular target of venom. The city’s method of distributing relief to those in need was definitely not working to Michael’s satisfaction.

          “There’s too much damn red tape about the business,” Michael emphatically shouted to a burst of applause.

          Another hot topic in the 1895 campaign was Alderman Watkins’ proposal that city churches be required to pay property taxes, an idea which candidate Joyce absolutely opposed.

          Alderman Watkins, who Michael contemptuously referred to as “Collars and Cuffs,” was a retail merchant whose business was located in the downtown core. Michael’s hostility to the Watkins’ idea went as far as him asking the following question : “if church people were to boycott Alderman Watkins’ dry goods store, where would he be?”

          The Hamilton police force also came in for a share of Michael’s vitriol.

          “I don’t love the ‘polace,’ he roared, “but I’m Oirish and love fair play, and will have it from the day of me death up till now!”

          Once again, the assembled responded with its hearty applause and roars of approval.

          After about a half hour of speechifying, Michael paused for a slight rest. Spontaneously, about twenty of the more youthful members of Michael’s audience took hold of the wagon and before he knew “where he was at,” the wagon was being dragged wildly down John street.

          A large crowd followed the wagon all the way to City Hal where Michael finally managed to escape the mob by ducking into an adjacent drug store. After agreeing to allow Michael to hide in a back room, the proprietor of the drug store sent for the police to break up the clamoring crowd making a hubbub outside his door.

          Michael’s next major campaign appearance came tow weeks later, again on the John street south wood and hay market square

          This meeting was somewhat better organized that the previous appearance of the candidate at the same locale. There was even a pre-selected chairman ready to introduce the candidate.

          Unfortunately, as the meeting began, the chairman was not in the most sober of conditions.

          “Ladied an’ gem’len,” he began. “this ish first time had pleshure dressin’ sush rep-rep-sentive augence.”

          The chairman then suddenly sat down, unable to continue. Michael glowered at him and then stood up and proceeded to answer a series of questions posed by the assembled electors.

          When asked his opinion of the license inspectors, Michael firmly declared, “Oi’m not in favour av wurrkin’ them license inspectors overtime. An’ Oi’s lay them off without any pay at all. Phat roight do they be havin’ to be snakin’ around the bars all the toime?”

          When asked whether a green or a yellow flag would fly over City Hall if he won, Michael’s eloquence was almost moving.

          “Gentlemen,” he said, “ the grass grows up from the earth an’ it grows up green, but none of yez makes no objections. The roses they grow from the earth an’ bloom yellow, an’ yez don’t object. Now yez are all brothers, an’ why shouldn’t both flags fly?”

          At this point, a group of boys tried to tip over the wagon Michael was standing upon. After the lantern lights on the wagon were knocked over, a hailstorm of peas, beans and mud was thrown at the candidate, who had quickly to escape to the shelter of a nearby hotel.

          A crowd surged around that hotel, hollering for Michael to come out. Several pails of water thrown from an upstairs window soon dampened the crowd’s excitement, and gradually the electors began to drift away into the night.

          A reporter later found Michael still hiding in the hotel, where “a bed was made for him behind the kitchen stove, and there he slept the hours away, a smile of sweet contentment o’erspreading his senatorial countenance, which, while a poem in waking hours, is a perfect symphony of lovely expressions when in sleep.”

          The climax of the Michael Joyce mayoral campaign of 1895 was a personal appearance at the Palace rink, located at the northeast corner of Jackson and McNab streets. A crowd of about seven hundred citizens paid the price of two beers for the chance to witness Michael’s performance.

          The interior of the building, primarily used as a roller skating rink, was decorated for the occasion with streamers and signs. The signs placed behind the podium emphasized two of Michael’s campaign platforms. One of them read ; “I’m in favour of three cent beer,” while the other read; “A fried egg with every drink.”

          When it was time to begin the meeting, the lights were lowered and Candidate Joyce entered the darkened hall by the light of red fire lanterns. As the lights were brought up again, the audience was amazed at Michael’s new wardrobe.

          A reporter for the Hamilton Herald penned the following description of Michael’s Joyce’s appearance : “He wore a brown suit of clothes, a three quarter light fawn overcoat with a silk velvet collar, a black silk hat, and a bright green silk tie done up in the four-in-hand style. He wore two large roses in his button hole, and the most unique feature of his make up was a pair white spats covering the tops of his boots. His hair was trimmed in the latest style, and he only hirsute growth on his face was his moustache, which was well-groomed.”

          Someone in the crowd teasingly accused Michael of being in favour of the temperance movement.

          “It’s a lie,” shouted Michael as a bottle of ale appeared, from which Michael took a few generous swigs.

          The candidate began by announcing his intention to sue the Tuckett Tobacco Company because they did not pay him to use his portrait on the advertisement painted on the side of the Foresters’ Hall.

          Besides, he added, he did not like Tuckett tobacco anyway.

          “Are you in favour of allowing bloomers to be worn in the public streets?” was one question from the audience.

          “Oi’ don’t know phwat bloomers are,” Michael replied, “don’t wear them meself; but Oi’ll not hinder no one from wearin’ ‘em.”

          Stepping to the front of the platform to display his new spats, Michael declared, “today, Oi saw the great Mr. Hendrie, an’ backus Oi had dose spat on me fate, he ran away loike a rat, and dats de way wid dem all.”

          “If elected mayor, would you be in favour of laying a pipe line from Kuntz brewery to the Council chamber?” asked someone in the crowd.

          “Yis, certainly Oi would be in favour of that,” Michael answered with enthusiasm, “it’s a bad practice to say a man can’t drink what he loikes.”

          After denying the rumour that he had bought a plot in the Hamilton Cemeery in order to qualify as a property holder, Michael took one last swig from his bottle and announced that the meeting was over.

          Chairman Addie Richardson then presented the candidate with a cigar in honour of the occasion.

          Michael put the cigar in his mouth, and lit it with great flourish.

          Unfortunately, for Michael, the cigar had been soaked in spirits and when it was lit, a big flame burst forth. Throwing the cigar to the floor in disgust, Michael stomped off the stage, while the crowd was convulsed with laughter.

          After the Palace rink had left, Michael and his friends counted up the gate receipts. After expenses, the profits were divided and the 1895 Michael Joyce Mayoral Campaign was declared over.