In
August of 1906, the Hamilton Street Railway Company and the union representing
its motormen and conductors were locked in a bitter dispute over wages and
working conditions. Finally, negotiations broke down completely and the matter
went to arbitration.
The
arbitration award was mainly in favour of higher wages and shorter shifts.
At
first, the company seemed to accept the ruling, but as time wore on, the new
schedules reflecting the ruling did not appear. The HSR claimed that there were
not enough men on staff to institute shorter hours. However, they would not
hire any more men.
Matters
went from bad to worse until finally on November 4, 1906, the Street
Railwaymen’s Union, 180 strong, walked off the job and the strike was on.
Generally,
public sympathy was with the workers. The service provided by the Hamilton
Street Railway Company had gradually deteriorated while at the same time the
company was maneuvering for even higher profits through renegotiation of its
agreement with the municipal government.
The
Spectator noted in an editorial that the company “has antagonized the people of
Hamilton by long neglect of its duty as carrier of passengers. I has allowed
its rolling stock and track to run down : its service has been abominable : its
anxiety to please the public invisible.”
The
company’s reaction to the strike was to be as tough as possible. The men were
each notified that their services were no longer required and that when they turned
in their badges and their hats, their wages would be available. Plans to import
strike breakers to operate the cars were put into effect.
Manager Green was interviewed by a Spectator
reporter and was quoted as saying :
“We
are going to fight and we are going to fight that union to the finish, even if
it takes two or twenty years. The men discharged themselves, and their money is
here when they call for it. They are no longer employees of ours, and we are
finished with them forever. Our cars will be operated by non-union men, and we
will never again be operated by these union men.”
As
the strike entered its third week, people all over the city wore “WE Walk”
buttons and attended parades and benefits organized to support the workers’
cause.
The
cars, operated by strike-breakers, began to run during the day but were seldom
used. Most cars had private detectives aboard to help the scab motormen if any
trouble arose. Nothing serious happened although the public’s attitude towards
the strike-breakers was evident in the stones and bricks which were
occasionally thrown at the passing cars.
The
expression of hostility toward the Hamilton Street Railway Company and its
strike-breakers gradually escalated until, after a few outbreaks of violence,
the police declared their inability to control the situation.
Citing
lack of manpower, Police Chief Alexander Smith warned Hamilton Mayor Biggar that outside reinforcements might be
necessary if the situation deteriorated any further.
By
Friday, November 28, 1906, the situation had indeed deteriorated further, much
further. The Street Railway officials decided to not only run its street cars
during the daylight hours, but would also reinstate the evening schedules. This
action was seen both by the union and the public generally as a direct
provocation, worthy of an equally direct response.
The
union men were ordered to continue to act peaceably and to cause no trouble,
which they proceeded to do. The public, through the newspapers especially, was
urged to stay calm and keep the peace.
However,
tensions were high, and when the first evening street car was sent out, the
scene was set for unrest.
Many
claimed that the strike-breakers set off the trouble themselves by kicking out
the windows of their cars in order to incite the hostile crowd which had
gathered to watch the confrontation. Although it was debatable as to who
started the trouble, the problem soon got out of hand, leading to events which
would later be called “Hamilton’s disgrace.”
The
derisive jeering of the crowd and the occasional hurled brick soon descended
into complete lawlessness among the crowd.
A
Spectator reporter on the scene described it as follows :
“ It was a mob gone wild or mad – the
ascendancy, complete and unshackled, of the primeval spirit of depredation and
ferocity over the more temperate spirit of good citizenship caused by law and
order. That it was the rough element that caused all the trouble there can be
no doubt, but that hundreds of peaceably inclined citizens became infected with
the general spirit of lawlessness reigning and took a hand in the game, there
also can be no doubt. The restrictions of law and order were set at naught, and
a scene of turmoil, lawlessness, riot and disorder reigned, such as was never
seen before in this city.”
The
crowds were particularly large on James Street North between Gore Park and the
Hamilton Street Railway Company’s offices at James and Gore streets.
As
a car tried to go through the crowd, “glass fell on the street, the sounds of
broken glass could be heard for blocks away, while the dull biff of stones on
the car sides made many shutter.”
The
police, under the direction of Sergeant-Major Prentice, would form in a double
line to guide each car through the crowd, while ducking the dozens of stones
and bricks thrown their way.
By
8:30, the situation was getting out of hand. The last car on the night schedule
was spotted coming from the north on James street :
“The crowd gave vent to one shriek,
and then waited in deathly stillness for the car to come.”
Expecting
a warm reception, strike-breaker R. G. McVeary, opened the throttle and dashed
the car forward at top speed through a shower of stones and other missiles.
Holding his arm over his face, McVeary managed to escape injury and was awarded
$25 by his fellow strike breakers for his bravery.
While
there was a lot of action downtown, another storm centre was brewing on Hunter
street where the strike breakers were boarding. A large, angry crowd formed
outside the boarding house, and since most of the police force were downtown,
those left were unable to cope with the disturbance.
After
a prolonged series of derisive shouts and epithets, a hail of stones and bricks
hit the house, breaking most of the windows :
“The vicious temper of the mob was
apparent and those who merely looked on saw a repetition of the great mobs of
the French revolution. The strike-breakers’ door was broken down by a pine log
wielded by strong hands, but the police gathered in sufficient numbers to stem
the tide.”
Some
young boys were being particularly troublesome and when Constable Yaxley tried
to arrest one of them, the crowd turned on him. The policeman was pelted with
stones, roughly pushed about and his revolver was taken away. As the police
retreated, shots were fired in the air punctuating the mob’s ascendancy at this
point.
After
the company stopped sending out its cars, the downtown crowd turned its fury on
businesses which were felt to be sympathetic to the company’s management. The Stanley
Mills department store was a notable target, suffering the loss of most of its
large plate glass display windows.
Most
of the crowd gradually dispersed by 10:30, but a hard core group chose to
continue the lawlessness. At 12:30 a.m., some strike-breakers tried to leave
from the Sanford avenue barns for home. The crowd smashed every street light in
the area and the scabs had to literally fight their way through the mob. Some
shots were fired, but there were no serious injuries. The night’s rioting was
capped off by the explosion of a stick of dynamite on the roof of the Sanford
avenue barns.
The
rioting over the evening had prompted Mayor Biggar to call for the militia to
help control the disturbances. The call was placed at 9 p.m., the troops
arrived at the Stuart street station on a special train at 1:30 a.m. By that
time, the streets from the station to the armories were virtually disserted. At
the armories, the troops were met by many local political and military leaders
to discuss strategy.
An
editorial calling for “peace and order,” appeared in the following morning’s
Spectator and it read in part :
“Violence,
bloodshed, the destruction of property must be prevented at any cost. That is
the first duty of a civilized community. Nothing must be permitted to go before
peace and order. The city of Hamilton must be made safe for life, limb and
property, no matter what cause – what organization suffers.”
By
3 o’clock in the afternoon, the soldiers made their first appearance on the
streets. The soldiers were seen as being present to protect the
strike-breakers. Many citizens shouted at them, calling them ‘scabs’ and, in
one case, ‘wizened-up wieners.”
The
soldiers were stationed at every switch-point on the system, to protect with
fixed bayonets, the switches from being tampered with. At 7 p.m., the dusk was
falling and large crowds gathered downtown to await the action they were sure
was to unfold.
At
7:15, Mayor Biggar, fully aware of the crowd’s hostility and the Company’s
determination to run its cars, made his decision.. He would order Sheriff
Middleton read the Riot Act.
Accompanied
by some aldermen and other city officials, Mayor Biggar and Sheriff Middleton
appeared on the steps of City Hall, surrounded by a phalanx of policemen.
As
the Riot Act was being read, the sheriff ‘s voice could not be heard above the
din. As the sheriff concluded his reading of the act with the phrase, “God Save
the King,” the police immediately dove into the crowd, batons flailing.
Within
seconds, over 100 people, men and women alike, were lying in front of the city
hall, either assaulted by the police or knocked over as the crowd retreated.
The city hall was turned into a temporary hospital as over 50 people had
suffered severe head wounds.
The
police assault continued as people were chased up Merrick, Rebecca, King
William and York streets, as well as up any alleys between those streets.
As
the police rushed up the sidewalks, the militia, on horseback, would follow
with swords drawn, driving away any not cleared by the first police line. After
the cavalry charge, the infantry would follow. With fixed bayonets, the
soldiers would poke the rear ends of those citizens still reluctant to move.
The
actions of the soldiers were generally more restrained and disciplined than
those of the Hamilton police. The Herald denounced the local police force as
follows :
“The
conduct of the uniformed constables stirred up more feelings of anarchy and
lawlessness than ever the actions of the Cataract Power Company. Though
technically they were right, and had the law on their side, the conduct was
viewed by some citizens as being brutal. Staid citizens, who hold law and order
dear, and who have always given the police every support, denounced them in
unsparing terms.”
In
their efforts to clear the streets, the police followed the retreating crowds
into stores. At McDonald Cigar store, a squad of police went in and threw
everybody out of the store, while another squad waited outside and clubbed
those thrown out.
A
large crowd took shelter in the Arcade building. When police tried to evict one
man, he pleaded that he was the caretaker and lived there. “Don’t give a damn,”
the policeman replied, “get out of
here,”
An
employee of the Herald tried to cross the street to get a late supper at a
nearby restaurant. A brawny cop approached him, ordering him to “Get on, get
on.” When the newspaperman explained that he was just going out for a meal, the
policeman shouted “This is all the supper you’ll get” and viciously swung his
club. The newspaperman managed to duck his head, but the club did land heavily
and painfully on his shoulder.
The
rioting continued sporadically all evening. As the crowd was chased from one
area, it would regroup and occupy another area. About 9:30 p.m., a gang of
rioters placed several planks and barrels full of stones in the middle of the
track at King and Walnut streets. When the car came along, it had to stop. The
strike-breakers then had to get out of the car to remove the obstruction. When
they did, they were set upon by a gang of rioters. Under a shower of bricks,
stones and fists, the men dove back into the car, which the crowd proceeded to
nearly demolish. All ten strikebreakers in the car were severely roughed up. One
of them, Arthur Bertrand, was so badly injured that he had to be removed to the
hospital in a very serious condition.
About
ten o’clock, the rioting finally subsided when the cars ceased to run. The
action then turned to the No. 3 Police Station on King William street. Thirty-two
arrests had been made and the cells were overflowing.
The
crowd at the station was huge, and described in the Herald as follows :
“Scenes
about No. 3 police station were pitiful. Wives begged for the liberty of their
husbands, mothers for their sons and children for their fathers. There was but
one reply for them all, and all were removed to the jail.”
The
following Sunday morning, the prisoners were granted bail and released. The
streets were calm and the street cleaners were busily removing the bricks and
stones, while the shopkeepers attended to their broken windows. The strikers
themselves, who repeatedly claimed no involvement in the rioting, attended a
church service all together.
