Miss Sama - 1893
During the month of
December, 1893, a lady reporter for the Toronto Globe was sent to Toronto’s
great rival city, Hamilton.
Despite the fact that the reporter,
known only to the readers of the Globe as Miss Sama, was telephoned bright and
early to remind her of the assignment, she still suffered through what she
later described as “a hurried toilet and a still more hurried breakfast. A
feeling of certainty that I would miss my train did not tend to amiability or
peace of mind, more especially when I refused a second transfer in the street
cars to which I knew I was entitled.”
Street cars were still on Miss Sama’s
mind when she arrived at Hamilton’s Grand Trunk Railway station. She told her
friend who met her on arrival that Toronto’s station was much better than
Hamilton’s because the street car lines were closer to the passenger platform.
“Yes,” her companion agreed, “but we
have cushions on our seats.” These “cushions’ were later by Miss Sama as ‘the
strip of carpet which was the substitute for the same in that particular car.”
Reaching the downtown core, Miss
Sama’s companion excitedly pointed out the recently unveiled statue of Sir John
A. Macdonald at the corner of King and John streets. Hamiltonians were very
proud of the fact that the statue was the first in the Dominion to be erected
to the memory of the late prime minister who had died just a few months before.
In her opinion, Miss Sama felt that “the figure is a fine work of art, and the
likeness is good, but not by any means flattering.”
A major point of interest during Miss
Sama’s tour of Hamilton was the newly opened Home for the Incurables. A
charitable institution founded by Anglican minister, Father Thomas Geoghegan,
the institution would later evolve into St. Peter’s Hospital.
Miss Sama was particularly sympathetic
to the plight of the elderly who were cared for at the home:
“Surely it is well that the last years
of their lives should be brightened as far as possible by kindness and pleasant
surroundings. Cranks ? Yes, many of them, I have no doubt, might be found
there. I know that if I were old and poor and friendless and suffering, I
should be a crank of the first order, and so would you, probably.”
After touring the Home for Incurables,
Miss Sama was a luncheon guest at the home of one of Hamilton’s younger
aldermen. After the meal, the party proceeded to engage in the traditional
Hamilton and Toronto exchange of civic boasting.
Street railway systems still uppermost
in her priorities for a modern city, Miss Sama declared : “We have spring seats
in our cars – most of them.”
“We don’t need them here,” replied the
alderman, “our cars run smoothly.”
“Did you ever go up Shelbourne street
in one of their trolleys?” asked a bright young Hamilton matron.
“No, indeed,” answered the alderman
sarcastically, “I never ventured, because I could not get an accident policy to
cover the trip.”
“You are fortunate,” she said, “for I
am told people suffer as much from sea sickness there as they do when crossing
the ocean.”
Every visitor to Hamilton is soon
treated to a panoramic view of the city from the Niagara Escarpment. In 1893,
the most convenient way to ascend Hamilton’s ‘mountain’ was by means of the
incline railway at the head of James Street South.
The ascending car had an enclosed area
with provision for seating. However, on the day of Miss Sama’s visit to
Hamilton, the weather was fair and she was able to ride up outside on the open
platform which was generally used for horses and carriages :
“Standing there the view before me is
indeed beautiful. Right at one’s feet lies the city, with its many handsome
buildings, pretty gardens and fine shade trees and beyond that is the bay,
encircled to the north and east by the continuous range of high hills, (I beg
their pardon, mountains) while away off to the north is the long flat line of
Burlington Beach. The air was somewhat hazy, or else we shown have seen the
towers and spires of Toronto, my companion said.”
Last on the day’s schedule was an
appointment with librarian Richard T. Lancefield and a tour of the new Hamilton
Public Library building, located on Main street west, beside the Centenary
church.
Miss Sama called the building “a
handsome one, finished inside in light hardwood, which gives it a bright and
cheerful appearance.”
In describing the lay out of the
library, Miss Sama noted that “the arrangement of the reading rooms is somewhat
as it used to be in Toronto library before men were given the best quarters,
upstairs.”
A portion of the reading room was
separated from the public area by light iron railings, entrance permitted only
to ticket holders. In this area, low shelving contained encyclopedias,
dictionaries, directories, etc. During her visit, Miss Sama observed that
“several young school girls were seated at the tables, taking advantage of the
privilege of using works that would probably have been quite beyond their means
of purchase.”
Miss Sama asked Librarian Lancefield
about the Hamilton Public Library’s regulations regarding the presence of
children in the library because once, when she had allowed a little girl to sit
beside her and look at the pictures in a magazine she was reading, a library
staff member had told her to ‘take the child out!’
“Well, our rule is to exclude children
under twelve years of age,” was Lancefield’s answer, “but if a child comes with
an adult and behaves quietly, we never interfere.”
In the reference section, there was a
notice on a blackboard directing patrons to inquire at the information desk if
they had any problems locating material on subjects of interest to them. The
notice read, “If you are not quite certain where you will find any particular
subject, do not mind hunting in the catalogue for it, but inquire at the desk,
where any information will be given you cheerfully. Do not be afraid of giving
trouble for the staff are here to be of service to those who need them.”
The main part of the book collection
was shelved on racks in an area which the public were allowed to enter only
upon application to the staff member on duty:
“It is only necessary to say so at the
desk to obtain permission to go behind to the racks and handle the books at
will, a privilege which I know be valued highly by one newspaper woman at
least.”
“But do you never lose books in that
way?,” Miss Sama asked Librarian Lancefield.
“Seldom, if ever,” replied the
librarian, “and even if a book or two should be stolen in the year, what is
that compared to the convenience which this plan affords to the hundreds of
readers? We consider that the books are bought for the people and therefore we
desire to make it as easy and attractive to people to make use of them.”
After the library tour, Miss Sama
headed back to the downtown business section to await her street car connection
to the Grand Trunk Railway station to catch the next train for the journey back
to Toronto.
While in downtown Hamilton she noted
that “if Hamiltonians are not punctual people it is not for the lack of clocks
to remind them of the time of day, for as I stood at the corner of James and
King streets waiting for a car, I counted no less than four (each with as many
faces, I think) on public buildings.”
Also noted by Miss Sama was Hamilton’s
downtown oasis, Gore Park:
“As I waited there, I also looked with
admiring, and I fear, covetous eyes at the pretty little park which forms the
Gore, and I tried to picture myself what it would be if we had a similar
breathing space at the corner of King and Young streets.”
Miss Sama observed that the fashions
worn by Hamilton women were little different from their Toronto counterparts:
“Very much pinched-up hats, butterfly
capes, or ‘animated pen wipes’ as I heard an unappreciative man called them
once, leg-of-mutton sleeves, Empire skirts, and the rest of it.”
Miss
Sama’s trip to Hamilton was relatively uneventful, but her descriptions of the
city and the places she visited wonderfully captured the feel of the city in
1893 for her readers in the Toronto Globe.
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