Jottings on the Street
Jottings on the Street. No.1
Standing at the upper end of the town, and just where Harriet Street coyly touches Water Street, we look away down Water Street, taking into view as best we can its length and its breadth. One mile long it is said to be, by actual measurement. The statement is accepted.
Here, at our starting point, a look in the opposite direction sees a dilapidated building—grim and war-like-looking, even in its antiquity. It bears the name of “Block House.” “It cants its head towards”—well, the East. Whatever service it may have rendered in the past—it promises none in the present or the future. Now, on each side of the Street, here at the Harriet Junction, are private residences. Those on the water side at not so cozy-looking as their opposites—neither have they fine garden plots as have the others. A few rods bring us to a vacant water lot—and here, some 40 years ago, James Rait, Esq., carried on a great trade as Merchant and Shipbuilder. The buildings were capacious, and in keeping with his very extensive business. Those were the times when grumbling over “hard times” were at a discount. The wail of “no work” was drowned by the busy hum of business on the shore, and the cheery “yo-heave-ho,” of the gallant tars in the harbor. Farmers, too, rattling along the streets with the rural products, found ready prices.
The wharves presented a lively scene, and prosperity smiled upon St. Andrews.
A sigh of regret escaped many a lip when the active business man, James Rait, left St. Andrews for Jamaica. His enterprise was not confined to the town of SA, only; it was felt in the Parish of Pennfield; and “Rait’s Mills” at Beaver Harbor will always be a household word. Nor there alone—out in the Bay on Grand Manan, his enterprise extended itself, as did also that of John Wilson, Esq., of Chamcook; (of whom we will have something to say hereafter) and many an old “saw long” can yet be seen imbedded in the island soil, that escaped the teeth of the . . . ill saw. Those whose memories can carry them back 40 years or more, may remember Mr. Rait as being in personal appearance of splendid physique—tall and portly—pleasing expression of features, and engaging in his manners, the true type of a gentleman-merchant; he was calculated to win esteem, and he did. He died on the island of Jamaica in the year 1842, where his remains are interred.
One can hardly pass along from this vacant lot, the former site of “Rait’s Store,” without a brief delay, as the feeling spontaneously wells up to moralise on the brevity of life—its shifting scenes—its vicissitudes—its joys, its sorrows, it entrees and its exits!
July 6, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 2
Passing on from the “Vacant Lot,” and passing, too, a few private residences, we find a neat little “Bakery” kept by Mr. Alexander McElwee. The aged proprietor of this bread and cake establishment has persevered with strong pertinacity of purpose against the pelting storms of adversity, and deserved much credit for his unbroken industry. He has long maintained the reputation of a “good Baker,” and many an empty stomach has been well filled by the big white loaf from McElwee’s oven. May he, for years to come, feed the hungry, and delight the palate with his nice bread and tasty pastry. Now, on the opposite side, the water wide of Water Street, we take a look at “Beckerton’s Store.” This tore is well located to “catch” the country custom. at the upper end of the town, and directly “in the way” of getting the first sight and hearing of the rural visitors, and keeping just such a variety as experience provides, it would be strange if the good-natured vendor of vendibles did not “draw in” many producers and consumers into his commercial net, to rejoice in mutual gratification over mutual good bargains. Just so.
This location has its history, and an interesting one it is. The limited space of newspaper columns will not admit of more than a few passing remarks. All along this part of the water side of the street, over 50 years ago, an old Scotchman, Mr. Christopher Scott, could walk and call it his. Large, long and substantial wharves ran far away down towards low water mark; and Christopher Scott’s name was synonymous with busy life and industry.
The wharves are all gone; and so has their owner and builder old Capt. Scott. He was a singular man, had many good qualities but was eccentric. He was a zealous Presbyterian and evinced it in the zealous and expensive completion of the Kirk. He was an old sea captain, and made many voyages from St. Andrews to Scotland. He had a partner, who is said to have been a most excellent man; his name was John Strang.
The Presbyterian Congregation having begun the building of the Kirk, found themselves unable to finish. Capt. Scott proposed to finish it, provided they gave him a title deed to it, and build a manse. To this they agreed, after some parleying about the details. Col. McKay owned the lot on which the manse was to be built. The cellar was dug, the foundation laid, and other preparations for the manse; the old Captain in the meantime pushing on the work on the Kirk with vigour. He spared no expense, and the edifice to this day shows, by its elaborate, rich, mahogany finish, and other costly decorations hat money was laid out on it with no miser hand. The house now occupied by the editor of the “Standard” stands on the very spot selected as the site for the manse. Another stipulation made by the eccentric Scott was that an Oak Tree should grace the front of the steeple. As there is no rose without a thorn, so the Oak Tree had its thorns.
The Congregation failed in their contracts about the Manse, and then Scott shut down in Scottish ire upon the Kirk. He swore—just as Uncle Toby swore in Flanders, he swore that he would lock up the Kirk, and so he did—Scott locked up the Kirk, and so, things appeared to come to a “dead lock,” for a time.
Scott had a son called “Willie,” and he determined to give “Willie” the title-deed of the Kirk, and so called in Mr. Wm. McLean as notary, to write the conveyance. Scott had a fine dinner prepared and wines in abundance, (Scott never wore the “blue ribbon,”) several friends invited, and all things ready to witness having “Willie” put in possession of the Kirk. Mr. McLean refused to write the conveyance, and by dint of persuasion so far pacified the irate Scotchman who got “tight” on the occasion, that he relinquished the conveying at that time; subsequently, however, he got another scribe and had it conveyed to “Willie.”
He closed the church gates—took down the Bell, and again the old Captain swore that he would convert the building into anything but a Kirk. He had brought over from Scotland Rev. Mr. McLean, and that pious and good man did much towards restoring confusion to order. After a time, the difficulties were all removed, “Willie” resigned the title, the congregation and Minister became the legitimate owners, and the church came forth all the bright from the trouble.
Under the broad leave of that majestic Oak Tree, and about half way up its trunk, black letters on a white ground, read thus: “Greenock Church, Finished June 1824.” 54 years, this very month, have thus rolled away into Time’s fathomless maelstrom, since “Greenock Church” was finished; and with this more half-a-century, what changes in the world! Ay, what changes in St. Andrews.
Alas! Our fathers, where are they, and echo plaintively asks, where? Of all that figures contemporaneous with old Capt. Scott, only, one that we know of, is left to tell the tale, and that is the good old Wm. McLean, now in the 96th year of his age. Another step or two in advance, and other interesting scenes are looming up before us, but we must postpone until next week.
June 20, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 3
Leisurely walking on from our last point of observation, and not intending to introduce the occupants of private residences to public notice, the sign—“James Stoop, Merchant Tailor,” tells the business prosecuted beneath it.
It also reminds one of the Mr. Stoop of some 40 years ago; and that the sons and daughters of the Father. Opposite, “Morrison’s Hotel” holds out its invitation; and adjoining it, the sign “St. Andrews House” also gives a silent invite to the hungry and the weary.
A little below is a small “Lunch House,” where those who do not find it convenient to wait for regular meals can always get refreshment. Next Mr. Stoop’s establishment is the store and dwelling of Jr. R. Bradford, Esq., the same gentleman who recently returned from his European tour; and who expatiates in fervid description of the scenery of France. France seems to be his idol-land. Passing on, on the same side of Water Street, we find a well-filled store kept by a Mr. McLaughlin; and over it, the “Standard” newspaper printing office.
All around these place, and approximate, are the relics of “Old Times;” and the youth of today would find many an interesting circumstance, if all were related. Next to this Store, and the “Standard” office, is the antiquated residence of Mr. John Lochary. This aged townsman, a native or Ireland, has been a long resident here, 58 years last march, and at one time in his life’s business-history, when “times were good” in SA; carried on a brisk and flourishing mercantile trade. He was always reputed a man of strict integrity in all his dealings. the close “shutters” now tell in mute and melancholy tone that, the once enterprising Mr. Lochary has ended his industrious career; and that, the press of years and old age have come—to change all of the past; and, in monitory pleadings point his vision away from the “closed shutters” to behold in grand exchange—the open, pearly gates of a City whose “builder and maker is God.”
The old St. Andrews Coffee House, of ninety-five years ago, will demand attention in our next issue. Written documents of “Pounds, Shillings, and Pence,” in connection with the old “Coffee House,” have been kindly handed us by a friend to aid us in the coming details. Our readers, will please exercise patience and the Bay Pilot will try to satisfy
June 27, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 4
Leaving the ancient Lochary dwelling; next beside it, in social proximity, is the residence and neat store and bake-shop of Mr. Donald Clark.
Formerly, say 40 years ago, and previously and subsequently to that period, Mr. Samuel Getty kept a tavern here. The well-filled store of the present proprietor was at that time used as a liquor shop and barroom, with demi-johns, decanters, tumblers, glasses, long-necked bottles---some labelled Old Rye, Pale Bandy, Irish Whiskey, London Porter, Brown Stout, Port Wine, Sherry, Cherry Brandy, New Rum, Old Jamaica, and Old Tom, with all the other etceteras of fancy cordials, etc., etc., which go so largely to make up what is called a respectable liquor shop, were in tempting array at “Sam Getty’s.” Mr. Getty also kept entertainment for travellers and others, and good stabling.
In fact, it is only doing justice to the deceased, to say that he always treated his guests well-was always kind and affable—and was quite popular as a landlord. We now come to—
The “Old St. Andrews Coffee House”
In the month of December, and the year 1783, stood away off in Penobscot, State of Maine, an Inn. A Mr. Andrew Martin surveyed this Penobscot Tavern, and a rising desire took possession of Martin’s mind to become possessor of what same Penobscot House. It was a convenient little Hotel—and our speculating Andrews of 95 years ago, thought how good it would be to have that same “Penobscot House” standing in St. Andrews.
SA, at that time, was sparse in its number of building sand its population and the addition of the Penobscoter to the edifices would be an acquisition too valuable to be disregarded; consequently, a bargain was effected, and John Macphail was employed to raze to its foundation the Penobscot Hotel, remove, and raise it in St. Andrews.
Thus reads the account:
Dec. 1783. Andrew Martin to John Macphail,
“Estimate of the value of the St. Andrews Coffee House,” with the expense of removing it to SA,
To the House taken down at Penobscot (30 pounds), To Freight from there to SA, 13 pounds, 10 shillings; To Taking down 3,000 bricks, 6 pounds; To freight of do. [sic] 2 pounds, 10 shillings; To 1,000 feet seasons Boards, 2 pounds, 10 shillings; to Freight of do. [sic] 1 pound, 10 shillings; To 4 window frames, cases and sashes glazed, 4 pounds; to 1 pannel [sic] door, 1 pound. [total 61 pounds]
“To be settled” (inside). On the back it reads—“House Account settled.”
Now, the question arises—why did Andrew Martin take such an interest in the Penobscot Hotel more than in any other, for there were several others in different parts of the State of Maine, far more attractive and convenient? For this very reason—It was called the “St. Andrews Coffee House;” and Mr. Martin loved Sa, and the very name of the Hotel attracted him; and, without changing its name, he changed its location; to him no other name sounded so alluring; he yielded to its influence, and hence the curious can now walk down towards the water, part Mr. Clark’s bakery and store (the old Getty stand) and a gentle rap, or a loud know, at Sandy Donald’s residence, will have the door opened for you, and you can walk in, into the “Old St. Andrews Coffee House.” It is in good condition to this very day—the rooms are cozy-looking—low ceilings. The kind lady-occupant told the writer a few days ago, that—“there is not a warmer house in the town;” and her veracity is unquestionable.
Almost 100 years have passed away, and there stands the Old Penobscot Hotel, (St. Andrews Coffee House) in its primitive stability. What changes, since John Macphail rendered his account of sixty one pounds to Andrew Martine for removing the now Andy Donald tenement from Penobscot! We have the House, the circumstances, the changes, all interesting as they are, to the mild, serious reflection of meditative minds until next week, when other “Jottings” will demand new attention.
July 11, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 5
We take our stand-point today, for a brief hour or so, at “Happy Corner.” This once Happy Corner may be a happy corner yet, for aught is known—but in the days of the smiling hostess, Mrs. McEleevy, who kept entertainment for man and beast, it was in very truth, a “Happy Corner;” so far as a “good table” was laid to appease the hungry, and the merry jingling of wine cups in unison with the clatter of gravy dishes, tureens, and soup-ladles, the welcomings of the generous hostess, and the familiar comforts of “Bed and Board.” Time rolled on, and graham succeeded the lady at “Happy Corner.”
Time still passed on, and now the “Bar” is closed, the rattle and jingling have ceased; boarders have departed, bar-room customers have found another favorite resort, and Frank Waddell, the tailor, takes possession of “Happy Corner.” All alone in his work, he made himself as happy as possible, and his customers were happy in “good fits” and neat apparel. Then, a change came!
Fire, in all its fury, raged over “Happy Corner,” leaving it a heap of ashes; nothing more. Then the enterprising Dennis Bradley stood meditatively one, day, gazing on the corner of ashes; and resolved to erect an edifice of brick upon the spot; he at once commenced operations, and in due process of time the same handsome brick structure which it to be seen there today was completed for Dennis Bradley.
The “Old Bradford House” so called, was erected by Colonel Weir; afterwards, became the property of a Mr. Bailey; then changed hands, and Mr. John Bradford took possession. It is now known as the Megantic Hotel, kept by Mr. Neill, whose popularity as a genial host runs parallel with that of the deceased John Bradford, who was a general favourite in St. Andrews.
From “Happy Corner” to the present “Passamaquoddy House,” kept by Mrs. McLeod, the fire swept every building—leaving but one house standing It seemed a strange thing, that not a building of any description escaped the fiery scourge save one—the “Old Bradford House.” Why the merciless, devouring element passed it by, is regarded almost singularly mysterious, even to this day—but so it is. And there it is.
Mr. Thomas Berry built the block on the opposite corner—now occupied by Mr. Jas. McKinney as a tailoring establishment. There is also a drug store in the same building, kept by young Mr. Cockburn, who is polite and attentive to business. Mr. Ingram keeps a neat variety shop next door; and the old established watch store of Major Stickney is also to be found in this block.
A shoe making establishment is also here, dept by Mr. Chas. Johnson; and on the adjoining corner, Mr. J. F. Mulligan keeps a fresh supply of many articles for body and mind. Then, Mr. Snodgrass shows to the public a large stock of fancy boots, shoes, slippers, and everything in the line of affording support to the under-standing. He delights in handsome buckles, and yet he has never buckled himself. The genial Saunders, always pleasant, next appears surrounded with “Yankee Notions,” and fruits, and candies, and jewelery, and many attractions for young and old.
A young lady keeps a neat little store next door, and we learn is well patronised. Now, Capt. Polleys, in the old Wm. Whitlock store, exhibits a large stock of goods, in hard and soft ware, and by his assiduity to business, his accommodating disposition, and the whole “make-up” of the man, generally, is doing a good trade.
On the opposite side, Mr. Fred Campbell commands a large and extensive patronage—he drives a fast horse on the street, and fast business in the store.
It would appear, he has had some Yankee drilling,
He seems so smart to catch the “nimble shilling.”
Post Office, and other buildings, to come under review next week.
July 18, 1878
Jottings on the Street. No. 6
The Post Office now comes under review. The large dwelling house, located at the north-west corner of King and Water Streets, and fronting on Water Street, is the residence of Postmaster Campbell.
The building was erected in the year 1803, by H. B. Brown, the first Clerk of the Peace for the County of Charlotte. He was jocularly termed “Hurly Burly Brown.”
The adjoining building, called the Post Office, was erected in the year 1836 by James Rait, Esq., the gentleman of whom we have already written, and whose remains have commingled with the dust of Jamaica.
Mrs. John Ingraham occupies the next building, which owes its erection to one Jonathan Courier, a man, noted for superlative profanity—it is now part of the estate of the late William Whitlock, Esq. Those buildings are all pleasantly situated, fronting on Water Street, and having the lovely harbour facing them—with St. Andrews island, and the American shore, close in view.
On the corner opposite the Postmaster’s residence, Mr. Hanson prosecutes the boot and shoe business with energetic industry; and as his “lasts” are good, his work last well.
Mrs. Healy has a cozy private residence near by, and Mr. Thomas Black keeps a well-stocked store of goods for sale. Dr. Wade’s office is just here, and he is steadily increasing in practice by patiently waiting for patients; and carefully attending those already under his care.
The office of Messrs. Street and Stevenson adjoins the “Megantic Hotel;” and underneath this law office the venerable end pious Mr. Breen will sole your boots neatly and honestly, and administer spiritual counsel at the same time, to every willing listener.
Before leaving the vicinity of the Post Office, it would be a reckless indifference to an honest discharge of duty, not to animadvert on the manifest wrong committed on a patient people in and through this Post Office. In making remarks on this subject, we must be understood as making them condemnatory of the “Powers that be;” those that have the power but not the will to remedy the evil.
In justice to our respected Postmaster, as well as to the public at large, there should be anew Post Office built by Government. the amount of mail-work n the St. Andrews Post Office is very great; and the wonder is, how the Post Maser gets through with it so correctly and so “up to time” as he does, under the disadvantages he has to contend with.
At the approaching Dominion election, we hope some man full of zeal, will put the question to the Candidate—“Will you, advocate, if return for the House of Commons, a new Post Office for the old Shire Town?” And let his reply “Yea,” or “Nay,” settle the matter with him; a la daily trains to St. Andrews.
July 25, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 7
The large building standing at the corner of Water and King Streets, opposite Postmaster Campbell’s residence, was erected by Donald D. Morrison sometime about the year 1831. It is a wooden edifice, but has quite a commanding appearance. It fronts on Water Street, having on the lower flat 4 large windows, and an equal number of doorway entrances. The middle door opens into a hall the stairway leading up to fine rooms on the second storey.
We pass on from its previous history, to find Capt. Balson occupying the store on the King Street Corner.
The Captain keeps a good variety of provisions and groceries, and sells at reasonable prices.
He is also Harbour Master, and when not behind the counter, can always be seen in an arm-chair, at the doorway, with opera-glass in hand, ready to spy coasters and steamers, as in the days of yore.
Next to the Captain’s location is seen Mrs. J. S. Magee’s fancy millinery store—where ladies can always find materials in that line to profusion; and be attended to with promptitude and politeness.
Next is Mr. Magee, himself, who runs the “Albion House.” This is a fine clothing and dry goods establishment, as by the extensive advertisement in the Bay Pilot does more fully appear. The present proprietor of this pleasant and commodious edifice is Mr. Charles A. Kennedy, Mr. Magee being the occupant for many years.
In 1873, a range of buildings ran from the opposite side of the street, towards the harbor, and extending well down to the Market Wharf. The store then fronting on Water Street was occupied by the O’Neill Brothers, who kept, as they do now, a good meat market, with groceries to match. Next, one Carmichael, a colored barber, displayed his fancy pole; and then, Mr. Stoop carried on the merchant tailoring business with his usual attention and ability.
Then, a Mrs. Kearney kept a little stock of the “O be joyful,” which in defiance of all kind intentions, served to render the recipients very sad and sorrowful indeed.
Next, at the extreme end of this row of buildings, David Welch kept a nice little place, where smokers, jokers, and loafers, too, delighted to congregate. But the year 1873 witnessed an end to all this in those buildings—the ruthless flames consumed all, and the blackened site presents a sight to this day of the devastation of that conflagration.
Aug 8, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 8.
The Market Square presents a favourable stand-point for observation. Standing with back to Water Street, and facing the river harbour, St. Andrews Island looks attractive, and the wonder is that it is so little frequented. And a greater wonder is, that those who love quiet retreat in rural homes, have not long ago bought up building lots, and chosen this pretty Island as their sylvan resting place. But, so it is.
With this little digression, Water is now the pen-theme; and a look at the Wharf East, and the Wharf West, at this the central part of the town, and the Market Wharf withal, one of them, seems to call up thoughts unfavourable to the business enterprise of our townsmen. True, Mr. William Hicks displays a sign over his provision and grocery store with “No Credit” beneath his name, which is good evidence that this good trader can carry on business on the “cash principle,” which speaks favourably for the town and country. A little farther down on the wharf, Messrs. Beckerton and Brundage keep a very good store of general goods, and trade in woods, also, both hard and soft. Those stores are very conveniently situated for trade from vessels and bots; and it is supposable they enjoy a fair share of patronage.
On the left, or at the head of the East Wharf, is the old Boyd building, now known as the “Ross Building,” fronting Water Street. Here is where the Bay Pilot newspaper is printed; and at the rear of it; with side door opening on the Market Square, is Thomas Rooney’s barber shop, where, when a man get “Well shaved,” it is only to the tune of ten cents. The amount is so small that the poor fellow who has been shaved goes away very well satisfied. Next to the Pilot Office is Mr. Samuel Billings’ Shipping Office and met shop. A most convenient arrangement.
Mr. Billings is always attentive to business, and every ready to wait upon customers. Immediately in front of this shop, the “O’Neill Brothers” hold forth in the meat trade. They have been so long in business, and so widely known, that anything said in their praise, according to their deservings, would read too much like flattery, which the Pilot thinks prudent to eschew, especially at Election times.
Suffice it then to say, en passant, that the “O’Neill Brothers” have sold so many hearts that their own are not very small
Now comes next in order, next door to the O’Neill store, E. Lorimer’s grocery store, and American Consul Office—with a Fire Insurance and Life Agency Office in said store also. This gentleman is, likewise, Secretary of the Town Schools and Trustee as well; and, from general report, perform the various offices he hold with a very general satisfaction. Opposite, is Mr. Moore’s tin-ship, where the portly George will afford immediate relief to any person whose “boiler bursts,” or other “blow up” accident should happen within his skill to remedy.
Here, too, is the old and well-established business of Street and Co. Not being intimately acquainted with the trade, to attempt any particular description would be quite irrelevant—but those gentlemen hold a high position for integrity and honour I all their dealings; and that is saying a great deal; where there are so many “shoddy” merchants in existence.
We now come in our walk towards the foot of Water Street to the store of “Robinson and Glenn”—but, as our columns demand attention to many other matters, in the present issue, a break-off is absolutely necessary; and so we postpone this firm for another week.
Aug 15, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 9
Our walk of Jottings along Water Street brings us down to Robinson and Glenn’s store and wharf. This business firm is of many years standing, and it remains firmly on a firm basis.
From the large lumber piles on the premises, it is evident that the manufacture of logs forms a large part of the business; which, as a matter of course, gives employment to many persons, mill men and others.
This fact of itself is sufficient to make an impression favourable to the enterprise of the industrious firm. Mr. Robinson is well-known outside of business transactions, having represented York County in the Legislature for years; and that large, influential, and populous County always regarded him with favour, confidence, and respect—indeed, his geniality of disposition in politics or out of them, is such as to win public and personal esteem. Of Mr. Glenn, it is only necessary to remark, that his work is deemed equivalent to his Bond in all business affairs; and, while he attends to business on the wharf, or behind the counter, or in the counting room, he can spare time to talk politics with such a vim and argumentative ability as would lead one to conclude he had made it a life study. To see so much lumber ready for shipment by one firm from our Port is very encouraging these “dull times.”
Opposite this store is the “International Hotel” occupied by Mr. Edward Hatch. This is a large building, and being pleasantly and conveniently located, ought to be filled with summer boarders; and probably would be, were St. Andrews patronized by tourists as it ought to be, and the landlord keenly alive to the profit of business activity.
Should Mr. Hatch pass it into other hands, it may yet become a favourite resort for travellers and others; and thus the “International” once more open its doors for Ladies and Gents to walk in. A net little shop and bakery by a Mr. Burton, is close by—and a little further on is Dr. Gove Office, where lancet and pill, plaster and bandage, are ready at all times to give effective testimony to the Doctor’s professional skill.
A large wholesale and retail establishment now rears its lofty head in stately magnificent before us; but, its magnitude is so overpowering, that our nerves must quiet down ere we come to a closer inspection.
Aug 22, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 10
Our perambulatory jottings on Water Street bring us down to the large Wholesale and Retail Store of “Odell and Turner.” The old firm name remains, but our “Warden Odell” is the presiding genius of this excellent establishment.
A stranger visiting SA, would not suppose that the town and adjoining parishes cold afford sufficient patronage to a store so large and so well stocked with such a costly line of goods—but, the Store is here, and commands an extensive trade. Customers outside of charlotte County find it advantageous to purchase their goods in SA; and more stores than Mr. Odell’s, if conducted as his is, would, also, probably find that St. Andrews affords a favourable location for trade.
The “Passamaquoddy House”, kept by Mrs. McLeod, was formerly the property and residence of James Boyd, Esq., who was so widely known throughout town and country that it is quite unnecessary to write his biography.
Mrs. McLeod keeps an orderly and good house, and is esteemed as a kind and hospitable lady.
The Custom House is at hand, the telegraph Office next door, and B. R. Stevenson, Esq.’s law office—and the “Reform Club Hall” over all, crowing all beneath it, with the “true blue” flag of brotherhood for all mankind—especially for those, who seek admission within its doors from the demon of intemperance who goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom it may devour.
With the exception of a grocery kept further on, down street, by the O’Neill brothers, and one on the opposite side by Mr. Swift, very little in business by trading is carried on, except by Mr. Wm. Ross; but his, is principally, in vessels, and lumber.
Jottings on the Street
The Iron Foundry
Very few people outside of St. Andrews have the least idea that St. Andrews has an Iron Foundry; and consequently, many who would purchase “castings” here, go elsewhere to buy. Mr. Andrews Lamb is the present proprietor, having succeeded Mr. John Watson. The Foundry is situated on the West side of Water Street, and close to “Kennedy’s Hotel.” On Saturday morning last, we took a look through this establishment. Mr. Lamb pointed out a young man, Michael Mulligan, who was then engaged in “moulding” for a “casting” of an iron pot for a cook stove. This young “Moulder” is a native of the Town, and is described as possessing extra natural talent and native genius. His natural ability, with his present mechanical acquirements, enable him to perform work equal to almost any who have graduated in extensive Foundries in large Cities. We take pride in thus giving notoriety to native genius, and Charlotte County can produce many examples. Mr. Lamb is prepared to turn out Railroad Castings, Ships’ casting; Cook Stoves, Cylinder Stoves, and Franklin Stoves, large and small; and at prices less than can be bought in any other market. Some of his variety of Cook Stoves bear the name of—State, Provincial, West Wind, and Valley. The three last-named have “elevated ovens.” The “Cylinders,” are, Nos. “2.3, 5.” The “Furnace” has capacity to smelt three tons of iron at a “blast.” As Mr. Lamb will exchange Stoves and other articles from his Foundry for payments in exchange, such as Fish, etc., now that money is scarce, such an opportunity to those needing such articles should not be neglected. We commend, and recommend, the St. Andrews Foundry, to the patronage of our readers.
Kennedy’s Hotel. This fine Hotel has a superb location. Adjacent to the Railway Station and the Steamboat Wharf—having a charming outlook over the broad and lovely waters of St. Andrews Bay—with Deer Island, the conical hills, the rivers, and the pebbly shores of this part of the Country; and with the towering top of the grim old Chamcook Mountain in the distance; this Hotel possesses attractions for Summer Visitors not easily paralleled, and hardly excelled, far or near. There are 24 airy bedrooms, well-furnished—2 parlors, and 2 sitting rooms; and what is of more consequence, than all—A good dining room, and, when the Bell rings, the Table bountifully supplied with the best viands the Market can produce. The Hotel Register is the best proof that Kennedy’s Hotel has been largely patronised this season. “Kennedy’s Hotel has been largely patronized this season. Since the publication of the Bay Pilot, scores of strangers have been piloted into town; and we shall continue our piloting efforts yet more ardently, until Kennedy’s Hotel will have to be enlarged to twice its present dimensions; and other hotels be made to sing with joy and gladness.”
The Railroad Machine buildings, and other matters, will please go on as usual next week.
Sept 5, 1878
Jottings on the Street, No. 12
The Railway Machine Works.
It would swell our jotting description to inconvenience to enter into a minute detail of the etceteras in connection with those works; while a mere passing remark would savour of culpable indifference.
The main building where the big wheels and the little wheels are industriously spinning around in easy and speedy revolutions high over your upward gaze; carried on in their whirling velocity by strong leather belts impelled by steam power, to perform their whirr of work, is about 100 feet wide, and 250 feet long.
The Engine, Earl No. 1, stands on its track in the building at present; and from Mr. Thomas Armstrong, the Master Mechanic of the works, we learn that, this engine has been cut down to suit the “narrow gauge” of the road.
This difficult and important work can only be fully understood by those who have practical experience with Railway Engine building.
Mr. Armstrong informed the writer that previously, all such work had to be sent to Portland, Maine, for alteration but the work was attempted here, and successfully accomplished.
The “Earl” has been some 20 miles out over the road on a trial trip, and ran as smoothly as Harmon, the St. Stephen racer; and, were the “Earl” to jump at all, the probability is that, the noble Earl would beat the St. Croix runner at jumping!
There are ten men in constant employment, keeping Engines in repair, and other railway operations. There is a certain amount of neatness and systematic order apparent inside, and outside. Scores of wheels on their “broad gauge” axles are standing on “tracks” in single file, almost with military precision, as if waiting for the work of command—“Forward! Double Quick!”
Leaving the Machine Shop and Works, and returning up townwards, the Railway Office and Store rooms are seen on the left; with the Depot on the right. Neat and convenient waiting rooms are here; the “Ticket Office” and all such kind of things generally looked for at the terminus of a Railway.
Henry Osburn, Esq., the Manager, and young Claude Lamb, the clerk, are “up to the mark” each in his respective sphere; and, the aspect of things at the present time, sparkles with bright hopes for the future.
The darkest days for SA, it is to be hoped, are fast passing away, like the late eclipse from the sun; to be succeeded by the shining of “better times,” and business prosperity increasing under the wise administration of a new Parliament and viceroy Lorne.