1906 - Hamilton Street Railway Strike

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.