March 25, 1876

“One of the most unpleasant storms of the season commenced this morning and lasted all day. The consequence is that our local columns are rather uninteresting today, as any amount of kicking would not induce our reporter to go outside to hunt for items.”

Hamilton Spectator.    March 25, 1876

Rainy, dismal weather, with very cold temperatures were the order of the day on Saturday March 25, 1876.

Reporters, as well as most everyone else, preferred to stay indoors if at all possible.

          As noted by the Spectator reporter, who could have researched this one by looking out the office window, the solar eclipse was a non-event in Hamilton :

 “This afternoon, at half-past three o’clock, a partial eclipse of the sun took place. Unfortunately the weather was very unpropitious, and the sun never presented himself once, so that the smoked glasses prepared in the morning were of no avail, and many people curiously and astronomically inclined were disappointed.”

          The Hamilton market square was visible from the Spectator offices and quite possibly the following could also have been written from an indoor vantage point :

 “The wretched rainy weather of this morning prevented the markets from being as large as they would have been had the sky been clear.  The three inches of snow which fell the night before was converted into a most discouraging slush before nine o’clock, by a cold rain which wet through a man’s clothes with remarkable rapidity. The attendance was very small, and the prices were extremely dull. The appearance of the butter, cheese and chickens offered for sale was quite heart-rending, and the appearance of the man who was selling veal almost surmounted to the ridiculous.”

The rain added to the melting snow made for flood-like conditions, conditions worrisome especially to those living near the escarpment :

       “The capacity of the mountain drain was fully tested today, an immense quantity of water passing through it. The cascade over the mountain was very large, and resembled a small Niagara.”

          Finally, the troublesome lady from Brantford was in the news again :

“Yesterday we published an account of a Brantford lady who attempted to beat a hotel in this city and who came to grief as a consequence. This is not the first time she tried on her little game, as only the day before she arrived here she beat a hotel in Ancaster. On Tuesday night last, she arrived at Harry O’Dell’s Hotel, six miles the other side of Ancaster, having walked all the way from Brantford. Her genteel appearance and lady-like manner worked upon the good-tempered host, and she was furnished with a comfortable bed and a good supper and breakfast. In the morning she asked O’Dell to drive her to Ancaster, which he did, and arriving there he discovered to his mortification that his guest had no money, and she had been beating him all the way through. He immediately applied to Mr. Mars, a magistrate, for a warrant for her arrest. Mr. Mars could not make up his mind, and consulted with Mr. Thurston on the matter. The latter advised O’Dell to sue at Division Court for his money. The consequence was that a warrant was refused, and the woman, who gave her name as Mrs. Derby, escaped. Strange to say, Mr. Mars, the magistrate kept her all night and gave her breakfast next morning. She walked into Hamilton that afternoon, and she had not been in this city more than six hours before she was led to the cells.”