INAUGERATION OF THE CITY OF WELLAND

JULY 1, 1917, A SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF CONFEDERATION-SPECIAL EDITION

THE VILLAGE DAYS

REMINISCENCES OF BOYHOOD DAYS

ROMANCE, COMEDY AND TRAGEDY OF WELLAND’S PAST RECALLED

By George Wells

             They tell me that I first saw the light of day in a building called “The Ark,” located near the historic spot called “White Pigeon” on the banks of Lyons Creek in the Township of Willoughby. I have found nothing in Scripture that has led me to believe that Noah’s Ark was ever stranded on Lyons Creek, although the Ark I was born in must have been very ancient.  Lyons Creek they told me was named after William Lyons McKenzie, the leader of the rebellion in 1837.

             The legend as to the “White Pigeon” as was told me, “A man by the name of Pigeon kept a hotel there and he had a daughter, who was always dressed in white, and it being a lumbering district in those days, the lumber Jacks dubbed it the “White Pigeon.”

             I received my first education in Willoughby, graduating at No. 6 school. At an early age I was apprenticed out to learn the “Printers Act,” and become a great journalist. Father must have been a reader of the New York Tribune, for it was his intention to make me as famous as Horace Greely, the Editor of that paper.

             In 1868 I was apprenticed out to the Welland Tribune (owned by the late J.J. Sidey), for four years at the munificent sum of 50 cents a week and “found.”

             My duties, besides learning the “Art,” were to rise at five in the morning, build the fires and sweep out and after breakfast “buck” the wood for the days supply.

             I always think father’s intentions were good when he sent me out in the cold world to be a journalist; Father, no doubt was all right as to the studies of the good producing qualities of bumps of clay for the growing of turnips and cabbage heads but he “fell off” on my bumps as a journalist when he put me in the category with “Horace,” who always advised the young men to go west and grow up with the country. I guess I should have went west.

             Everybody used wood as fuel those days as there was no coal and natural gas was not thought of to my knowledge. There were several men of the town who made a business of “buckin” wood for those who could afford to pay for it. Tom Lawson and Mr. Downage “Nosie” were the main guys in the profession, and there was quite a rivalry between them as to who could “buck” the most wood, so they used to have many contests.

             One instance I always remember Mr. Downage was possessed of a very large nose which caused him to go by the non-de-plume of “Nosie.” On one occasion during a rush of work in the office, and they couldn’t afford to spare my time for sawing wood, they sent me to get “Mr. Nosie.” I had never heard him called anything else but “Nosie” and supposed his name was “Nosie” (which I learned shortly after was wrong.) He lived in a shack on the banks of McCarthy pond, just opposite where the Methodist church now stands. Fortunately for me the shack had double doors-one swung from the top and other from the bottom and which no doubt saved my life. I rapped on the door, and in my innocence asked for “Mr. Nosie.” I never had time to finish the sentence. “Yes” he says, “I’m Mr. Nosie, and you’re Mr. Sidey’s brat of an Imp, you devil. I’ll lick you within an inch of your life.” Well before he could open the bottom door I had a good lead, and it was nip and tuck till I got to office and hid down cellar. We never became friends and he always called me “Sidey’s imp.”It was a sorry day for me as I had to cut most of the wood after that. It was a lucky thing for me that I had been used to herding wild steers at home or I guess “Nosie” would have caught me.

             Speaking of McCarthy’s pond that is where Merritt Park now looms up. Many’s a game of “Shinney” we kids had on the old pond.

             Charlie Page and Herb Pew, clerks for R. Morwood, always called me “Sidey’s devil,” and “I never had no use for them.”

             Saturday nights in winter after I was through with the “devils” work, I had to cut wood to last over Sabbath and then walk home nine miles for an appetite for breakfast on Sunday morning.

             The Arrest-Another sad story. The print shop was upstairs over where Douglass drug store now is. Mr. Cummins had a drug store where Mr. Brown’s Jewelery store now is, and a sleeping room upstairs. It was a cold stormy night on Sunday in winter and I was living with Mr. Sidey and fortunately never left the house that night. While Mr. Cummins was at church that night he had some $30 stolen from his room. Next morning two stalwart constables walked upstairs in the print shop and arrested me for the robbery. The Constables were Nelson Patterson and Wm. Campbell. They took me in charge between them and were marching me down to the coop when Mr. Sidey came to my rescue and told them I was home all evening with him. So they set me free, but it was a long time before I got over the scare.

             Spent many days in jail-but it was Billy Wilson got me in jail. Billy and I were great chums those days. They say Billy was born in jail. Billy’s mother was matron, and I used to like to go to jail for she always had lots of good things to eat. Those were happy days in jail then.

             We used to hold shows in the basement of the Court House. I remember when they played “Pinafore” and the girls took all the parts. There were Minnie Girven, Flo Ellsworth, Emma and Ella Strawn, Minnie and Etta Griffiths, and I can’t remember the other girls names. Minnie Girven made a great hit as “Dick Deadeye,” I think it was. It was a great success so the girls said.

             That reminds me I started to be an actor once. The play was “Betsy Baker,” there was one thing I remember about it. I didn’t make a hit in my part, but someone in the audience did-I think it was an overripe tomato. I quit the show business.

             We had moving pictures in those days. They called them panoramas. I remember they were a large painted canvas and were turned by hand. The first I ever saw was in the old City Hotel Hall. I thought it was the finest thing I ever saw.

             This happened before my time-it must have been in the 50’s. The village was divided in two sections. A number of people came from the States and settled across the Creek on the North side and started in business. There were Moses Betts, A. Cosby, Seeley, Rounds and others. They had planing mills and saw mills. It was on the 4^th of July that they started to celebrate. They had a small cannon which they had placed on the Aqueduct and were firing salutes, in honor of Uncle Sam. A crowd of Canadians was mustered on the East and West side of the canal and creek and went to put a stop to the celebration and in the melee the cannon was thrown in the Creek and the crowds dispersed without any serious bloodshed. I was told the cannon was never found after.

             The old swimming pool-a part which remains to this day, it was opposite Hooker’s brickyard. Every night, we lads would be there swimming and while in the water the big boys would come along and tie our clothes in knots, and when we would go to dress would tell us to “chaw beef,” and it was some “chawing” before we could get into our clothes.

             Snake Eaters- They said there were people who lived in the marsh that used to eat snakes. I never believed that until I saw a man acting queer on the street and on making enquiries I was told he had the “snakes,”- I guess the story was true.

             The Enormous 63 of Pelham-It was about the year 1867 that the Tories had a picnic here and they had a flag floating with the words: “The Enormous 63 of Pelham.” It seems the Tory candidate had polled 63 votes in the township of Pelham at this election.

Commercial Hotel

Thirty Years Ago “1887”-The Commerical Hotel, corner of South  Main and Division Streets. The view was taken from this corner looking north.

             The Commercial Hotel was the leading hotel in those days. It was conducted by Mr. Vanderlip. The hotel was built by Mr. Chambers, who was drowned on the “Golden Gate” as he was returning home from the gold mines in California.

             The old City Hotel Hall was where all our theatrical entertainments were held, J.H. Young, S.J. Sidey and M. Collins being in charge. Mr. Young, manager; Mr. Sidey, treasurer and Mr. Collins, scenic artist. The seats provided for the audience were planks borrowed from the saw mill placed on goods boxes borrowed from the merchants.

             Three familiar characters around town those days were: Paddy Connolly, Geo. Offspring and Jno. Ferguson. Paddy was noted for his wit and the other two for their strength. They called Offspring the iron man and it was said that he once took a bull by the horns and threw it.

             Ferguson had a fight with a bull at Cooks Mills. They say he “threw” the bull, but never fully recovered himself from the effects of the tussel, and was badly bent for years afterwards.

             They have all passed in their checks but the bull still flourishes.

             The first race course was located between what is now Division Street and Welland Street. Divison Street being the home stretch, and the finish about where Hellems avenue crosses Division. The first race I remember seeing must have been in 1869 between Bett’s St. Lawrence and a horse from St. Catharines. Bett’s horse won the race. St. Lawrence was said to be the fastest horse in Canada at that time.

             There was quite a little excitement when Harvey Beatty bought a velocipede and gave an exhibition of its merits. Its merits as a speed getter did not amount to much.

             The Dick Turpin of the town-His name was Lon McDuff but we called him “Duff” for short. He was the leader of the gang, with headquarters under Sherwood’s warehouse, located between the old and new canals. I never belonged to the gang because Duff said I was too pious, old rope and copper boilers were their main line. They sold them to the tinsmiths. The worst crime they committed was stealing the proceeds of a Sunday school collection at the Methodist Episcopal Church, which amounted to between 10 or 15 cents. In dividing up the spoils they quarrelled over a 5 cent piece and gave themselves away. Duff disappeared and was never heard from afterwards. The wise ones used to say that Duff was a clever boy, that he might become a preacher or get hung. I guess he got hung for we never heard of him afterwards.

             The rag business was quite an industry in those days. Clayton and Hopkins, Salem Girven and David Pilbeam, tinsmiths, were all in the business. Each had several rigs on the road. Exchanging tinware for rags. They would start out in the morning with a load of tinware and return with a load of rags in its place.

             That reminds me that when I was working for 50 cents per week, I held the corner on the rag market for some time, but finally went out of the business when I was raised to $1.00 per week.

             When I went at journalistic business money wasn’t very plentiful. The boss had to take in pay for the paper from farmers, potatoes, wood, cabbage, turnips, apples, or anything in the vegetable line. I’ve seen the time you didn’t know whether it was a vegetable store or a print shop. The boss generally sold most of it for cash as we couldn’t eat it up, and then I got my pay. He had several subscribers who paid cash, and they were also his correspondents. A lot of readers kicked on the news sent in by these correspondents but the boss couldn’t turn them down as he needed the money to run the business.

             More Trouble-It was on the day of the picnic and were all going to the picnic. That is the whole staff, the boss, the foreman and the prentice (the imp). There were some bills to press (that was all we had at the time) and in my excitement to get away to the picnic I unfortunately let the inked roller butt into the foreman’s starched shirt. There was the “devil” to pay then, and it was some days before I sat down with comfort. However, it was fortunate in a way for the foreman luckily had a change of shirt and I didn’t.

             Another time I was sent to the Telegraph on some foolish errand when I was taken and my head put in an ink barrel and then plunged in a tank of water and then sent back, shedding tears and vowing that I would quit the business and go back to the farm. They tried to fix me up by washing my head and face and hands with lye, which they used to wash the ink off the rollers. It was all fixed up with me and I stayed on.

             I wish I had known Oliver Twist at that time, then I would have had someone to sympathize with me. After I read Oliver Twist I always thought of Lon McDuff as the “Artful Dodger.”

             The first I remember of hearing about Natural gas must have been in the early sixties. They were drilling for oil on the Lemon Dell farm in the township of Crowland (near my uncle’s farm) it being at the time of the big oil excitement in Pennsylvania. Nobody thought of natural gas in the bowel of the earth at that time. The well had been drilled down several hundred feet when the driller was working away one night with a lighted lantern when a vein of gas was struck which rushed to top and became ignited from the lighted lantern and burned up the derrick and machinery and the well was abandoned, many of the population thinking that they had found the eternal region. Gas has flowed from the well for many years.

             The bookstore-there was a bookstore in connection with the Tribune office and it was my duty after supper to look after the store. The bulk of the sales was 10 cent dime novels, in which we done quite a trade. We also handled the Police Gazette. I used to keep the cash in a tin box and it was my duty to safeguard that box, every night and carry it home. I would probably have from 25c to a $1.00 in the box, but I never stopped on the road till I landed the proceeds in the house. There were no lights on the streets in those days.

             1889-Earley’s Big Hog-Wm. Earley proprietor of the Frazer House was supposed to have the biggest pig in Canada. It’s weight was 1200 pounds, height 5 feet and length 10 feet. He sold it to New York people for the museum. It swallowed a sponge and died.

             Earley’s Dog “Turk”-We remember “Turk”, the good old dog, a friend to all the kids and all the older ones. “Turk” was a big Newfoundland with beautiful curly hair. It was a common thing to see “Turk” with three or four youngsters on his back carrying them around. “Turk” was entitled to a humane medal for saving the life of a child from being drowned in the canal, and he recovered from the canal many a hat blown from the heads of pedestrians as they struck the breezy corner at the canal bridge. “Turk” was poisoned by some inhuman being.

            Another stunt was the taking down of the shutters in the morning at 6 o’clock and putting them up at night, anywhere between 10 and 12 o’clock at night. They were made in sections so it depended on the size of the window as to how big your job was. I had two windows of 4 slabs each of 18 inches wide and 10 feet long. We piled them up at the foot of the window as they made a nice seat for the loungers who used to hang around and tell stories, but mostly spit tobacco juice all over the stoop for me to clean up.

             The Bear Scare-This was my first real excitement on arriving in the burgh. It was on a Sunday, Sept. 13, 1868, a rumor got around the natives that a bear had been seen down in the marsh of the Creek just below the Aqueduct. A crowd was soon got together to hunt the bear. It was a motley crowd with all kinds of weapons –shot guns, hoes, forks, picks, and other implements to hunt the bear. The crowd was in charge of Wm. McGuire, J.P. Evans, Herb Pew and Geo. Lampman. We lads ran down the opposite side of the creek to keep away from the bear. We all climbed up trees to keep away from the bear. We didn’t know at that time that bears went up trees. After an hour’s chase through the marsh and mud and water the bear was treed and the excitement was awful. The chiefs with their guns primed for action crawled through the grass and mud till they got within range of the furocious beast when the leader gave command to fire. The volley did the work, the animal dropped to the ground-dead-but only to be an innocent “coon.” The following day the leaders were all marched before Squire Burgar, the village Magistrate, and soaked a dollar a piece for killing the “coon” on Sunday. He said if it had been a bear, it would have been different, but a “coon” had as much right to be out as they had.

             A real bear story-This happened before I started out to be a “Horace Greely,” it was about 1860, they said. A bear was seen in the woods at what is now Welland Junction. It was the kind of game our hunters wanted. Thaddeus Hooker, Frank Ott, Bob McClelland, James Anderson and Beam Noble were the leaders in the hunts those days. After a few hours skirmish “Mr. Bruin” was discovered, whether they all had a hand in the assassination of poor “Bruin” I never learned. But he was not instantly killed as Mr. McClelland will tell you. He was the hunter sent to interview ‘Bruin” and as a parting farewell the dying “Bruin” bit off a finger or two, perhaps a thumb. Mr. McClelland still lives at the Junction and will tell you about the bear-the last they say, that was ever seen in this section.

             I remember hearing the wiseheads say that Alex McKenzie worked on the Aqueduct as a stone Mason and quit the job to be boss of the Government. I don’t know if that is right or not but I do know that Alex Brown worked on the Aqueduct, and that’s why they call him “logs” now.

             I have seen McCarthy’s pond grow from the home of watery reptiles to a beautiful park; have seen the village grow from a selvage of outskirts to a mass of streets, and from a village to a city.

Soldiers Aid Commission

             Chairman-John Goodwin

             Members-J.F. Gross and J.D. Payne