Welland Had Her First Horseless Carriage Less Than 23 Years Ago

By

OLIVER UNDERWOOD

             Sept. 19, 1903, less than twenty-three years ago, is a date marking the opening of an epoch in which the city is still living and one enjoyable or contrariwise to the inhabitants thereof, according to whether they have the good fortune to sit calmly behind the steering wheel and placidly watch the pedestrians precariously leaping from curb to curb; or whether they perforce emulate the nimble chamoix in a series of more or less graceful hops that carry them from one side of the street to the other.

             In other words, on that date the then and still intrepid J.F. Gross, then as now truly the captain of his soul, drove the first horseless carriage to appear upon the streets of Welland; and if the dope of the old-timers is right, the first one to be propelled anywhere in the Niagara District.

             And she was some lil’ old boat, that bus, according to the tales of the said old-timers.

             She wagged her tail, barked gleefully and came to heel, more or less, at the call of her name, which was Kensington Steamer; and she set the present Solicitor back all of $345, freight and duty paid.

             And the driving of her was some trick-a far cry from the easy job of this day. The levers and thingamajigs were decidedly complicated and in addition to keeping ones eyes on the machine, Mr. Gross had to keep the other peeled for approaching horse-drawn rigs. When one of the latter hove insight it was generally necessary to bring the Kensington to a dead stop, while the legal luminary vaulted lithely or climbed slowly to the ground, took the meeting equine by the short hair or the bridle, and led him or her safely past the waiting horseless vehicle.

             Should Brother Gross omit this Stop stuff at the near approach of a horse, he had to eventually pull it off just the same; only the procedure was lengthened by his having to assist in prying the horse out of the limbs of a tree or from the cross-arm of a telegraph pole, aid in assembling the scattered fragments of the attached rig, speak some mollifying words to the other driver, and whisper to him that he come into the office tomorrow, when J.F. would write a more or less sizable cheque to cover the damage done; and all would again go merry as a marriage bell.

             Somebody gives Pete McMurray as authority for the statement that these stunts with the cheque book got so repetitious that Mr. Gross finally employed an outrider to precede his flaming chariot, tooting loud blasts on a trumpet, that oncoming horse drivers might take warning; and either turn down the first concession or anchor their steeds firmly to a convenient tree or snake fence.

             But let it be remembered that Pete wasn’t the good churchman in those days that he is today; and it may be, and likely is, that this stuff is only a pipe-dream.

             Reference is made to the Gross flaming chariot; that is no far-fetched raze on this predecessor of the tin one of today; for, to relieve any probable monotony, the contraption used to catch fire every so often; and when that happened, there was no slow climbing to the ground on the part of Signor Gross; he leapt, and he leapt pretty darn quick, with no quibbles about it.

             This little idiosyncrasy of the Kensington continued to her last days, ever when she had passed from the Gross kennels into the hands of Billy Wilson, sometime landlord of the old Mansion House. Mr. Gross got so used to the fiery-flames act that he used to just sit around, and let herself burn till she got tired of it or burned out; but mine host Wilson, the first time he found himself giving himself an imitation of Abednego, or whoever it was that wallowed in the fiery furnace, lost his head entirely, headed the boat for the canal, (it happened just about where the post office now stands) and by the time the Boniface was landing all spraddled out on the green sward of the canal bank, the smoking monster was plunging under the waters of the canal; and it took George Wells and the whole fire company to drag her out on terra firma again.

             But she went on running, just the same so that’s the kind of a boat she was. Cars wuz cars then.

             The Kensington liked like a buggy with a sewing machine, a hot-water boiler, and such-like didoes tacked under the box; and she made more noise than Hartley Horton’s threshing outfit coming down the Canboro Road according to the bards of yesteryears.

             So much for what purports and appears to be the first motor car hereabouts. There is a tale about a car constructed by Ben Neff of Port Colborne, all on his own; using a cold chisel, a hammer, a screwdriver and a can-opener to assemble parts obtained from goodness knows where. But the Neff outfit seems to post-date that of Mr. Gross, which was a real, sure’nuf boughten car.

             If this historian is wrong, anybody who can tell it better has the floor.

First Garages

             In the classified business directory of the latest edition of the Welland City directory, there are no less than thirty-eight businesses listed in connection with automobiles-garages, auto repairs and parts, painting, tops and trimmings, etc. Some of these are duplicates, but at that; the number to say nothing of the number of cars upon the streets, bespeak the part the automobile plays in the life of today.

             And yet it was only fifteen years ago, back in 1911, that Welland had its first automobile agency; that of W.G. Somerville & Sons, who handled the now defunct E.M.F. and Flander’s cars which in due course merged into the Studebaker of today, which that firm still handles.

             They received the first carload of automobiles reaching Welland consigned to a dealer. There were three of them; and one went to the late former Mayor of Welland, George W. Sutherland; the second to Dr. Garner, then in practice here; and the third was held by the firm for display.

             The first Ford did not burst upon the landscape until 1912. While the E.M.F. and the Flander’s have gone to the bourne whither have departed croquet, the bustle, ping-pong and calf less skirts, the Ford still lingers and may still be seen now and then about the streets of our fair city, according to Gerry Nash, who now acts as intermediary between Henry Ford and the general public hereabouts.

             In fact, it may be set down that there are quite some Fords going; and no doubt Brother Nash will be pleased to furnish specific statistics as to their numbers; he being fully qualified to hand-out the tall ones.

             But the late Richard Moore, father of Postmaster W.H. Moore, was the first one to wish the Ford on this municipality; and during his first year with the agency he sold the tremendous total of thirty cars, which does not include tractors, either; the last having not then been invented.

             And who drove the First Ford in Welland? C.J. Laughlin, of the Laughlin Realty Company, was the first man to shake the reins over a Lizzie. That is no small honor, which does not seem to be the case as regards another and vacant niche in the local Hall of Fame, which should be filled by the man who tossed-off the first glass of 4.4. Much digging has failed to reveal any one who will admit that this distinction can be wished on him.

             But that is another story for some future day and makes it time to close this one.

The Welland Tribune and Telegraph

30 March 1926