1903 - Hamilton Summer Carnival

"In good old Hamilton,

In dear old Hamilton,

Since the Old Boys came to town,

Oh, haven’t we had fun?

The girls you meet and friends you greet

Are jovial, kind and free;

Oh, there’s no place in all the world

Like Hamilton to me."

     (Rewritten lyrics sung to the tune of In the Good Old Summertime.)

          Another popular song, My Wild Irish Rose, had its lyrics changed for the Hamilton Summer Carnival celebration :

                   “Then give me your hand,

                    And here’s a toast for me

                    Wherever we roam, may the place we call home,

                    In loving remembrance be.

                   “Then give me your hand,

                    And forever friends we’ll be.

                    And we won’t forget the time we met,

                    In nineteen hundred and three.”

For a week in the month of August, 1903, the citizens of Hamilton celebrated their city’s advancement and invited thousands of former Hamiltonians to return and celebrate with them.

Called the Old Boys and Old Girls, the returning men and women, former Hamiltonians all, had left their native city to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

In preparation for the 1903 Summer Carnival Week in Hamilton, the local municipal government, local businesses and private citizens combined efforts to make the celebration one to remember.

The downtown core of Hamilton was decorated by volunteers spending many hours putting up flags, banners and bunting to liven up the scene.

In the residential districts, multicolored Chinese lanterns were common decorations. The lanterns strung though hedges and shade trees creating beautiful scenes which were described in the Spectator as follows:

“Under the soft candle glow, the lawns and boulevards take on a hue that is more velvety, and one can easily imagine as they pass along that this is a midsummer’s night’s dream, or something else equally attractive.”

A large scale midway was set up in the vicinity of Gore Park. There were rides including a giant Ferris wheel. The Spectator reporter noted that the midway was an extremely well-received draw for carnival-goers :

“It was the midway that held people in the centre of the city – a carnival feature that Canadians never before had a chance to sample.”

One of the many sideshows on the midway was one which featured the latest in motion picture technology of the day, the cinematograph.

The midway proved to be exceptionally popular, attracting tens of thousands of people of all ages. The Spectator reporter noted that at least one of the midway workers was overwhelmed:

“The Ferris wheel man on John street more than once cried for mercy and help as the mob rushed on him, anxious to get seats on the moving wheel.”

Another midway attraction at the 1903 Hamilton Summer Carnival was the “Upside Down House – an inverted building where everything had its right side down and its wrong side up. Located at James and Merrick streets, the house was so popular that there was a near-constant line up of people anxious to pay to see inside. As noted in the Spectator:

“The way people jostled the ticket makers in their efforts to get in there was certainly shameful.”

The downtown core was so lively that by midnight when the rides and sideshows had shut down, there were still crowds of people milling around and bands playing.

As much as anything, the 1903 Summer Carnival Week in Hamilton was a week of parades, parades which attracted ten of thousands of onlookers.

The first major parade featured the Hamilton Old Boys, a parade which attracted thousands of onlookers. Nearly five thousand ex-Hamiltonians, carrying banners and wearing special jackets, which indicated their current place of residence, paraded up King street west from the city core. All along the route of the parade, the Old Boy were loudly cheered.

Excitement ran high along the parade route:

“Marching in line, each crowd with banners and distinctive uniforms to show the place of their present residence, close upon 5,000 ex-Hamiltonians walked the streets.

“Lined up on either side of the long, narrow lane through which they went was a host – a multitude of people, many of them visitors, most of them citizens with warm spots in their hearts for the men on parade.

“It was a sight never to be forgotten, and a sight that brought tears of – one could hardly explain what or why – from the eyes of thousands.

“People forgot themselves. Staid old men had their hats on the ends of their canes and didn’t know it as they waved them frantically in the air.

Young men stood on the walks and watched part of the procession pass, and then, as if drawn by invisible force, were caught by the inspiration and joined in the parade.

“Young women, knowing only that there were Hamilton men in the procession, and proud of their native city, were careless for once and acted just the same as the men, even to marching on the roadway.”

The Detroit Old Boys contingent was the second largest after those from Toronto, but they made the bigger splash :

“They wore neat but odd blue coats, white duck trousers, peach fedoras, pretty badges and carried a Stars and Stripes or a Union Jack. A novel feature was the profusely decorated automobile at the head of the Detroiters and the three Carnival colored banners carried by some of the prominent Old Boys.”

Another hugely popular portion of the parade was the contingent of the veteran volunteer firemen headed by Richard Butler, the U.S. Vice-Consul to Hamilton and also the popular weekly Spectator local columnist known the Old Muser. Butler had been a volunteer fireman back in the 1850s as had the others in the contingent

“(Butler) issued orders through an old-time trumpet to the old veterans whom were uniformed in straw hats, red shirts on which were the letters V. F. D., and dark trousers. They brought forth much applause as they marched steadily along pulling after them the old engine, Rescue No. 1, which they used in days bygone before Hamilton had a paid department. The engine was prettily decorated for the occasion.”

The Old Boys paraded up King to Locke street, through Victoria Park, and then on to Dundurn Park where speeches were delivered.

Hamilton’s mayor of the day, Wellington Morden was the featured speaker telling the old boys, that he was aware that the city had changed considerably and that many of the friends of the returning Old Boys had died since they had left their native home:

“These are sad thoughts. I am sure your sojourn will revive tenderest recollections of absent loved ones in such a way as to add materially to the influences which enable us to mingle the joys of the past with the pleasures of the present and this to increase the store of our happiness and enjoyment

“In your day, Hamilton was known as the Ambitious City. It still bears that name, but there is a difference. It then had ambition to be great among the cities of Canada. It now has an ambition to be the greatest of them all. Towards this goal, we have already progressed to such a degree as to attract the attention of the manufacturing world to the facilities which we possess and already our natural advantages have secured for us some of the largest manufacturing industries on the continent.”

Later in the day, Dundurn Park was again a popular destination.  Free concerts by two of the city’s most popular bands were provided for residents and visitors alike.

It had been a rather warm, humid day but, in the evening the weather conditions were much more comfortable, prompting many to stroll around rather than try to get on the streets cars which were very crowded all the time, and very slow-moving as the streets were jammed with multitudes of vehicles of all sorts.

As pointed out by the peripatetic scribe with the Spectator who joined the walkers :

“The shower of early evening was a blessing in disguise. It didn’t hurt the flags and bunting any, and it did hurt the dust which was better. It also cooled the air and made the evening a thoroughly enjoyable one.

“The whole city was en fete, beautiful and fantastic illuminated devices of a decorative sort sprang into glory everywhere. In the business district, it was, for the most part, electric and gas. In the residential districts, the Chinese lantern made the display. There were few dark spots throughout the whole city.”

The efforts made to decorate the residential streets succeeded at astounding visitors, locals and the Spectator reporter who described some of the housing districts as a “fairyland. Home fronts everywhere stand out through the shade of trees dotted with the multicolored lights. Under the soft candle glow, the lawns and boulevards take on a hue that is more velvety, and one can easily imagine as they pass along that this is a midsummer night’s dream or something else equally attractive.”

Once at Dundurn Park, the effects of decorative lighting were wonderful as well. The huge trees in Dundurn Park were strung with thousands of Chinese lanterns, prompting the Spectator young man to write, “the effect was magical, and it had much to do with holding the thousands of people in the park who could not get near enough to the bands to hear anything.”

Those who could get close enough to hear the bands were not disappointed:

“The bands seemed inspired by the large concourse of people and played their selections with a spirit that evoked considerable applause from admirers. The two programmes were sufficiently varied to suit all classes, the heavy classical numbers satisfying those who appreciate that style of composition, while the younger element was regaled with popular selections.”

The carnival spirit permeated the city of Hamilton for the whole week of August to August 1903. The Spectator reporter caught up in the spirit of the carnival wrote that “the carnival was the daddy of them all in the history of this or any other city. As one enthusiastic visitor put it last night, ‘she’s a peach!’ ”

Strangers would meet and impromptu demonstrations of enthusiasm would break out:

“Down the roadways at the midnight hour, the fun makers marched in single and double columns, singing and cheering. And the burden of the cheer was noticeably all Hamilton, Hamilton.”

A major attraction for visitors and Hamiltonians alike during the Summer Carnival was the procession of illuminated boats on the bay, best seen from vantage points along the Beach Strip.

Thousands of people went down from the city by carriages, by boat and by automobile.

People using the electric radial railway had to contend with cars filled to overflowing:

“People stood on the steps, and even the fenders, and the wonder is that there were no serious accidents.”

Thirteen Radial cars were put on duty and all were taxed to the maximum as an estimated 10,000 people rode the radial rails to the Beach and back during the evening.

As described in the Spectator, The Beach Strip was particularly beautiful for the carnival occasion:

“Every cottage, shack and tent from Beach road to the Radial power house was gaily decorated with flags and bunting and illuminated with Chinese lanterns, large and small, or colored electric lights.”

After sunset, the government barge, the Mockingbird, was used to tow a procession of launches, skiffs and rowboats:

“Every boat was prettily illuminated, and on the decks of many of the launches, large quantities of red, blue and green fires burned brightly. A large number of those on board carried torches, which added greatly to the spectacle.”

After the Beach portion of the 1903 Summer Carnival was over, the crowd wanted to get back to the city via the radial railway was immense. After 10 o’clock, it seemed like everyone wanted to go home at once. 12 Hamilton Street Railway cars were sent down to help, but it was somewhere between 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning before all passengers were back in the downtown core.

Events during Carnival Week also involved members of the military, both from Canada and the United States.

Outside the Waldorf Hotel on King street east, a large tent had been set up for the 13^th Battalion Band to entertain both general carnival attendants and the distinguished officers attending a banquet inside. Colorful banners were hung over the hotel entrance, the lobby and the banquet room, all of which were brightly illuminated.

As a reporter described, “the electric rays glittering on the uniforms of the commissioned officers produced a sight splendid beyond belief.”

Among the many speakers at the banquet was Hamilton’s own Colonel A, H. Moore who emphasized his pride in the Canadian method of training citizen soldiers, such as members of his 13^th Battalion, adding that “a good soldier would make a good citizen.”

The grand finale of the banquet was highlighted by the American soldiers rising and proposing three cheers for their Hamilton hosts, after which all the soldiers present sang Auld Lang Syne.

The reporter present described it as a scene not soon to be forgotten:

“It was indeed a sight to see British and American soldiers clasping hands and joining together in singing with good will expressed on every countenance that fine old Scotch song.”

A grand military review at the Hamilton Jockey Club grounds was held.

The Times and Spectator had differing opinions about how well the review went off.

The Times said “truly it was a brave and goodly gathering, and it delighted thousands of beholders.”

The Spectator report was less complimentary, feeling that the review was not as good as hoped :

“The crush of people on the field was so great that the troops did not get half a chance to do their work as well as they otherwise would have. All attempts to keep the crowd back were unavailing.”

Despite that concern, the Spectator man on scene noted that “the sunshine glistening on the brightly polished bayonets made a beautiful picture and the maneuvers were much applauded.”

What all could agree about was that when the review was over, there was a crush of people all trying to get back to the city at once. The number of Hamilton Street Railway cars were barely able to accommodate half those who wanted a ride.

A reporter observed that “many drove back to the city and hundreds walked, but the majority waited for the cars to make the circuit of the belt and return for them.”

The prettiest, and most popular, parade of the week was the Floral Parade.

By 9 a.m. on the day of the parade, the sidewalks were filled with people, and the roadways nearly blocked with traffic.

As described by the Spectator reporter observed the excitement,

“By 11 a.m., there was not an inch of spare standing room in the centre of the city, and the small boy, along with the larger boy, was locating himself in dangerous positions on electric light, telephone or telegraph poles.”

Floral parades had been common in New Orleans for many years, but the 1903 Floral Parade at the Summer Carnival was the first for Hamilton, leaving the Spectator the task of using his best descriptive powers to capture the scene:

“As the parade passed along the streets, the carriages literally covered with flowers, grain and foliage, much of it the real thing, the people were for the moment spellbound. Then came the deafening cheers and hand clappings, and the handsome horses, as if appreciating all, and considering it all meant for themselves, pranced and champed their bits delightedly. To say that it was gorgeous does not explain it. It was too delicate to be described in that way; it was too fairy-like – so fairy-like that butterflies were following the flower-bedecked throng to get sips of the sweetness hidden in the flowers.”

After the flowers, the parade was made up of displays from city and area fruit dealers showing their best peaches, plums, apples, pears and all the rest:

“Such a country, such a locality as could produce so great wealth in flower and fruit must be about near to the heavenly region as one could get on this mundane sphere.”

For many of the celebrants attending events at the carnival, the highlight was the fireworks display at Dundurn Park.

An estimated 40,000 people jammed nearly every square inch of the park, while thousands more spilled over into Harvey Park, the cemetery property, the shoreline of the bay and on Point Hill in the city’s north end. Many more watched the fireworks from boats, both large and small, floating on the waters of the bay.

The fireworks display, put on by Hamilton’s own T. W. Hand company, contained well over an hour’s worth of spectacular effects which drew repeated gasps and cheers from the massive number of onlookers.

One highlight of the fireworks display was a mammoth set piece, designed to symbolize Hamilton’s preeminent position as an industrial centre.

To represent the importance of cheap electricity brought to the city from nearby DeCew Falls by the Cataract company, the set piece began with “a giant falls, consisting of the brightest scintillations known to the art, dropping from a great height.”

The “waterfall” was connected by electric wires, in fireworks, to a representation of a typical factory. Suspended on poles between the waterfalls and the factory were firework representations of industrial products made in Hamilton, such as stoves and agricultural implements, etc. Around the display was the motto, written in fireworks, spelling the words, “The Birmingham of Canada ” in many colored fires.

Flanking the industrial set piece on the left was another set piece designed to represent a large tree, the roots of which were in the word, “Hamilton.” In the branches of the tree were, in flames, the words “factories,” “foundries,” and “new industries.”

On the right side was another fireworks representation of a tree, the roots of which furnished the word, “Education.” In the branches of this tree were the words, “good homes” “contentment” and “prosperity.”

The whole set piece, designed and executed by the Hand company, was 150 feet long, and forty feet high, and was, in the words of the Spectator, “one of the most effective and intricate pieces of work ever attempted in fireworks.”

The fireworks display ended with two large mottoes in colored fire reading “God Save the King” and “Hamilton Forever.”

When the crowds began to leave Dundurn Park, there was a rapid succession of colored rockets :

“Not only did they produce a very pretty effect, but they the park as bright as day and helped the people to find their way to the gates without any unnecessary crowding.”

During the last evening of the carnival, at 7:30, someone unloaded a cargo of fish horns, and the Hamilton Summer Carnival came to end amid a cacophony of sound from those thousands of noisemakers:

“It was the death of the carnival and the determination seemed to be general that the death scene should be mad, the most uproarious sort of affair that could be imagined. All day long, the people had been revving up to the pitch required to make the night one of good-natured revelry and riot.”

The Times reporter’s account of the carnival finale was almost breathless:

“In a blaze of glory, amid the fanfare of many instruments, the singing, the cheering and shouting of tens of thousands of voices, the waving of as many small flags and ribbon-bedecked canes, the merry laughter of the light-hearted young people, the falling of a shower of confetti, and a complete relaxation.

“It was a night of merrymaking with an impromptu nature. There were no band concerts, no fireworks displays, no parades, no sports – nothing of a pre-arranged nature – but the whole population joined in with the visitors in making the closing hours of the Summer Carnival the merriest and wildest night of their lives.”

An estimated 50,000 people thronged the downtown streets as the key attraction of the carnival’s last night’s grand, in formal closing scenes.

In summing up, the effect of the 1903 Hamilton Summer Carnival, an editor with the Spectator wrote:

“Let everybody be proud of the only city in this country that can do what this city can do. Let the citizens delight in the fact that today Hamilton stands as the best advertised city in the whole American continent, through her summer carnival, and let them modestly accept the praise that falls upon them from the lips of every visitor, without any exception – that there are the most royal entertainers, the most kindly disposed hosts and the only people who know how to make carnival as carnival should be made.”

The Old Muser, Richard Butler, writer of the Spectator’s weekly column, Saturday Musings, summed up his view of the 1903 Hamilton Summer Carnival as follows:

“The great carnival has passed into history and 50 years from now, the old boys and girls will be telling their grandchildren about it. Hamilton has once more settled down to business and congratulating itself that everything turned out just as hoped for. It will be many a day before Canada will witness as grand a success. What a picture of the old home did thousands of visitors carry back with them to the new homes across the river! What stories will they tell of the prosperity of this great manufacturing city of Canada. Every Hamiltonian, whether a present or a former resident, has reason to feel proud of the old home. There is nothing under the heavens, or in the earth, necessary for the comfort of man that cannot be found in the garden spot of the world”