©2017 The Past Whispers
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Montreal, Saturday evening, March 7, 1903
“There was never a more spectacular fire seen in Montreal,” reported The Gazette the following Monday. “The whole southern part of the city seemed afire. But greater than all of this were the solid phalanxes of people who stood massed along Commissioners street (today, Rue de la Commune) from Jacques Cartier to Custom House squares. People were everywhere. They crowded over the flood wall, and filled up the open space on the wharves, as if they were intent on witnessing some great sacrifice……Between heaven and earth leaped the flames, and so great was the light on the 20,000 faces in front, that they all looked like a living picture, with old Mount Royal for a dark background.”
The conflagration referred to was not, unlike the Longue Pointe fire of May 1890 on the periphery of the city but instead, this time, in its very harbour, only a short and dangerous distance from the populated areas.
It was a cold and damp late winter evening now well over a hundred years ago when, at 8:55 P.M., assistant-superintendent James Ferns, who was associated with the alarm department at the old Montreal City Hall (destroyed by fire in 1922), first spotted high from that building’s tower a bright reflection from the direction of the river. He ran to a window with a hand telescope and took about a minute to make out more or less what was burning. Suspicious of its origin, he immediately rang the alarm but, unfortunately, it was far too late. The virtually completed R.&O. Steamship ‘The Montreal’ was already totally engulfed in flames while docked along side the King Edward Pier in this city’s waterfront. Only seven minutes later did the first alarm come in from the outside and, by that time, the ship was aflame from stem to stern.
The magnificent Toronto-built craft was to be the pride and joy of The Richelieu and Ontario Navigation Company, perhaps the queen of its class on the continent. It was constructed by the Bertram Shipbuilding Company of that same city and was considered to be “the finest craft ever built in Canada”. Yet it was plagued with problems from its very inception. No less than seven strikes interrupted its progress in construction. It is even said that the bottle meant to christen ‘The Montreal’ missed the target as the vessel was first launched from the shipyard near Bathhurst Street. Nevertheless, as the “floating palace” entered the waters, it took to them, reported La Presse, with the agility of a duck! It eventually steamed down river to Montreal, suffering some relatively-insignificant damage as it voyaged through the Lachine Rapids. It was subsequently decided to transfer the vessel from Montreal to Sorel for the minor repairs and for the final painting and furnishing of the vessel. Another strike, however (the Montreal men felt they should be paid more for working in Sorel), caused the owners to move the steamer back to Montreal where it floated in this city’s harbour for the winter of 1902-1903.
The day following the fire, The Montreal Star reported that the blaze made a “splendid spectacle”. Writing of the ship, which was insured for $400,000, the account continued: “Her fine proportions showed up as if in gorgeous tints on the blackness of the night; her smoke stacks, white with the heat, stood, tall and erect, in the midst of the fiery mass, and at the top a wisp of dark coloured smoke curled lazily upward and floated slowly away into the darkness.”
“The glare lit up the city and showed thousands along the waterfront watching the progress of the fire; it shone out over the ice and on the shed where, warm and comfortable, spectators who had gained their position after great exertions, gazed upon the scene.”
Montreal Fire Chief Zephirin Benoit commented the following evening that the ‘Montreal’ was doomed “before the firemen ever reached the scene” and that the only thing left to do “was to save the sheds of the Allan Steamship Company” from destruction as well. Indeed, those sheds before the night was over would provide yet another element to the tragedy of that evening.
Along the west side of the Alexandra wharf, there were no fewer than four freight sheds to be climbed upon for a superior view of the spectacular fire which raged in the Montreal harbour. Police attempted to control the crowd -composed of mostly boys and young men- but without success as they seemingly all headed to one shed in particular. The one-storey unclad structure was owned by the Allan Line and stood only about a hundred feet from the burning vessel, itself about 1500 feet from the nearest spot accessible to the fire engines. “They seemed to be mad,” said Constable J. E. Huot of 109 Panet Street. “I tried my best to keep the people from getting on the shed, but it was no use. They were bound to get on it.” The officer continued, almost lamenting, “I did not take to club them for if I had the accident would not have, perhaps, happened, but I should have been hauled over the coals for using a club. So, there you are!”
The fire raged fiercely out of control. There were, in 1903, no hydrants on the wharves of the Port of Montreal. Further aggravating any attempt to deal with the violent inferno was the unfortunate fact that, it being the weekend, the gates which separated the harbour from Commissioner Street were locked shut. Despite this fact, even more individuals climbed over them and headed for the roof of that one same structure, which was known as the “Glasgow shed”. Onto it they ascended, jostling with one another for the best possible view. Finally, at the end, a veritable throng stood on the top of that one building – never constructed to endure such a charge.
The accident to which Constable Huot had eluded finally occurred around 9:45 P.M. when suddenly, very suddenly, it was noticed that the greatly over-burdened structure began to sway. Many attempted to scramble to safety but it was too late. The shed first tottered and within seconds collapsed like a house of cards. The disintegration started with the truss at the southeastern corner of the building and then spread to all of the rafters which in unison gave way. At the last, there was an ominous crash as gravity claimed its prize. It was surely a very terrifying moment for all involved.
Amidst the debris, there was human carnage beyond imagination. Moans, groans and shrieks could be heard throughout the site as those conscious and with only minor injuries tried to extricate themselves from the pile of wreckage which once composed the Allan Freight Shed. The Gazette reported that “a panic ensued. The big crowd settled back, those around the shed yelled, but many inside were silent, not dead, but insensible, with the beams across their chest.”
An eyewitness – a student from McGill – later recorded his observations. “I was attracted to the fire and had made my way out on to the tongue-like pier which juts out into the St. Lawrence.
I noticed about 300 people squatting on the skeleton roof of the shed, and thought at the time some of them would get a tumble because the frame was not sheeted and lacked therefore the proper strength. Still I only thought a few of the spars would break. What did happen was this. The crowd was trying to work down to the end near the burning ship, when the ridge beam gave way. The end wall supporting the whole of the long roof bulged out.”
The enormous effort to assist people was a joint one. Doctors, the military (army) medical corps, medical students, police all streamed to the catastrophic scene as rapidly as possible. It was quickly realized that the four ambulances and handful of doctors initially dispatched to the dire site were woefully inadequate faced with the enormity of the mishap. A second call was made and 25 more physicians were sent to the harbour while police wagons and cabs were requisitioned to serve as ambulances. Some of the unfortunates were attended to at the scene while others were rushed to one of three Montreal hospitals: the Royal Victoria, the General (then at the intersection of Dorchester and St. Dominque), or Notre Dame, at that time located on Notre Dame, near Berri. Only one individual – Philias Paquin of 52 Dominion avenue – was taken with a fractured arm to the Western Hospital at the corner of Atwater and Dorchester.
One of the first horse-drawn ambulances and its heavy charge heading out to Notre Dame Hospital quickly broke down on the hill on Bonsecour street and the vehicle began to slide backward. Fortunately for its endangered human cargo, a large crowd of students was nearby. They immediately freed the horse from the ambulance and, with much energy and exertion, pulled and pushed the cart all the way to the hospital. It was not the first nor the last act of heroism that evening! There were, of course, the doctors and nurses about whom much could be written.
Below, Montreal General Hospital Ambulance, 1890
It was only logical that Notre Dame Hospital, being the closest of the three to the scene of the calamity, receive the greatest number of victims. They were also perhaps the best prepared in the sense that one of their doctors – H. A. Maillet – had actually witnessed the collapse of the shed and quickly alerted his hospital. It was, therefore, not long before the horse drawn ambulances began to arrive at that institution. Many individuals, after minor repairs, left the facility before their name and address (for billing purposes?) could be recorded. Others, many others, because of the gravity of their injuries were forced to stay. A total of 48 patients were cared for that unhappy evening by Doctors Fleury, St. Pierre, Ouimet, Leduc, Derome, and Beauchamp. The latter had divided themselves into two groups, one serving as a kind of triage while the other worked in the operating room. Dr. F. A. Fleury commented the next day: “In all we had seventeen medical practitioners at work, including those who came into assist us from outside. There were also a large number of medical students who rendered valuable assistance………The situation was complicated a good deal by the difficulty in getting the injured transported to the ambulance. When the patients were taken from the collapsed shed, they had to be carried across the railway track to the revetment wall and then handed over.” In short, people worked very hard that evening.
The situation at the General Hospital was little different. One newspaper reported that the staff worked “like Trojans” all night and the following day to attend to the needs of their many suddenly-arrived patients, everything possible being done to relieve their suffering. It was, however, at the General where the only death resulting from the horrible event took place. Nicola Fiorillo, ironically who had just arrived in Montreal from Italy, died from massive head injuries shortly after his admittance to the hospital.
The General Hospital also experienced the disaster in another sense. Three of its doctors were dispatched to the port to assist in any way they could as a result of the fire. They arrived well before the collapse of the shed. All three doctors were standing near the entrance to it, commenting to one another about the possible danger with so many people gathered on the roof. As someone led them to believe that an injured person was awaiting assistance inside the doomed structure, they gingerly entered it. At that very moment, the trusses gave way. Dr. Simpson being the last of the three was able to spring clear of the debris but Doctors Turner and Wray were struck, the former on the head and the latter on the leg. Both fortunately later recovered.
The Royal Victoria Hospital received six injured individuals, two of whom were in critical condition both suffering from severe spinal injuries. Several other patients willing gave up their beds in order to facilitate the comfort of the five men and one boy who were brought to the doors of that institution.
It is interesting to note that in those somewhat sectarian days no effort at all was made to sort the injured according to their language or religion. Therefore, many English-speaking Protestants were treated at Notre Dame Hospital and an equal number of French-speaking Catholics were received at the General and the Royal Victoria Hospital. No one apparently complained!
Quite naturally, the fire eventually burnt itself out. The next morning – Sunday – thousands of Montrealers streamed to the site to see the charred wreckage of the once magnificent vessel and the collapsed ruins of the now infamous shed. All day long they kept coming to stare at what remained of the double tragedy. The ship itself had been scheduled to be in service between Montreal and Quebec on June 1. Gazing at what remained of it, it seemed hard to believe. The Gazette reported: “Her two yellowish funnels stood high up in the air, but nothing was to be seen of the three decks. What was left seemed to be iron and steel, twisted into fantastic shapes. The steamer looked like a big platform, with a cutwater under it.”
The cause of the fire remained a mystery although there were, according to Chief Benoit, as many as 69 painters working on ‘The Montreal’ that very day. Fresh oil-based paint would have contributed greatly to the rapidity with which the flames spread, he argued.
The three Montreal dailies of the time –The Star, The Gazette, La Presse– all seemed to put their own spin on the dreadful event. The Gazette interpreted the conflagration as “a warning”. “Had the wind been blowing towards the city instead of down the river, several craft in the neighbourhood of “The Montreal” would probably also fallen a prey to the flames. Had it been summer much property on the wharves would have been imperilled.” The Star argued for the need of fire hydrants on harbour property with the belief that the ones on Commissioners street were just too far away (especially when the gates to the port were locked!) from the scene of the fire. La Presse powerfully headlined the event “EFFROYABLE CATASTROPHE” and, unlike the other two newspapers, they published in their March 9 edition photos of at least eighteen of the victims. All three dailies did publish extensive lists of the injured and the hospital to which they had been sent. These rolls varied ever so slightly, although La Presse did include five or six names more than the other two newspapers.
This ghastly occurrence was unlike any other in this city’s history. It taught many lessons with regard to fire fighting in general and security at the Port of Montreal in particular. Had this event taken place in the dryness of a breezy August night, there is no telling what might have happened. It also educated us somewhat about the paramount importance in a situation of this nature of crowd control. Again, had an efficient and effective system been in place, one life and many injuries may have avoided.
Finally, in researching this article, I had hoped to come upon a photo of this vessel which I could have shared with the readers. Unfortunately, I was not successful. If anyone has any suggestion as to where one might be found, I would be very interested in hearing from them.
Killed:
Nicola Fiorillo, age 20, died an hour after arrival at the General Hospital
Injured:
George Thornley, 710 William street
Emile Sauve, 32 years of age, 476 St. Andre street
Leo St. Germain, 27 years of age, 7 Wolfe street
John O’Sullivan, 104 Prince street
James M. Waugh, Pointe St. Charles
Harold Thomas, 12 years of age, address unknown
James Maloney, 334 St. Antoine street
William Bennett, 46 Montcalm street
Max Rutenberg, 45 St. Urbain
Joseph Raymond, 28 Marie Louise street (photo)
John Platt, 3 Mitcheson avenue
John Farrell, 901 St. Catherine
D. Madden, 94 Dorchester
Dominque Marrott, deMontigny street
Albert Olsen, 22 Albert street
George Dozois, 217 City Hall avenue
Colin Campbell, 297 1/2 St. Urbain
Leon Adler, 55 Roy ( first name reported as “Lucien”)
Joe Verner, 536 City Hall avenue
Frank Dufresne, 82b Visitation
Edmond Delfosse, 305 St. Hubert street (photo)
Joseph C. Wray, St. Dominique street (photo)
Russell Brown, 1002 Sherbrooke street
Emil Charest, 668 Dorchester street (photo)
Arthur Bulley, 159 St. Urbain street
Samuel McBride, 84 St. George street
C. H. Massiah, 21 Argyle street
W. Lunan, 107 Mitcheson avenue
Maxime St. Louis, 441 City Hall avenue
W. Flanigan, 52 Shannon street (photo)
Edmund Burne, 141 St. Dominique street
S. Fleet, 43a Champlain street
Robert Douglas, Blue Bonnets
J. M.Nicholson, Blue Bonnets
Joseph Caisse, 107 St. Hubert street
Grant Gordon, 3566 Notre Dame
Arthur Philion, 106 St. Hubert street
Leonil Sicotte, 36 Shuter street
Charles Laurent, 398 St. Christophe
Pullus Reiter, 140 Bernard street,
Henri Cinq Mars, 83 Vinet street, Ste. Cunegonde
Edouard Lamoignan, 1327a Notre Dame (photo)
Gustave Fauteux, 21 Emery street
William Cotton, St. Paul street
Alderic Sarazin, 231 Quesnel street, Ste. Cunegonde
Thomas Finn, 8 Richmond Square
David Dufault, 168 Sanguinet
Isaac Archorvietch (probably “Archovitch”) 659 Dorchester (photo)
Ernest Choquette, 872 St. Andre
Daniel Alexander, 40 St. Paul
Philias Beaudoin, 67 St. Sulpice (photo)
Ross Brown, Sherbrooke street
Theophile Faucher, captain no. 2 fire station, St. Gabriel street (photo)
Joseph Jeannette, 266b Montcalm street (photo)
Telesphore Tremblay, 47 St. Dominique
Albert Desormeau, Cote des Neiges
Samuel LeHuquet, police constable, 23 Cathcart street (photo)
Alphonse Gamache, Panet street
James Kelly, 104 Dorion
Adelard Lesperance, 687 St. Catherine
Henri Auger, 43 Sanguinet
Antoine Genoie, 67 Champs de Mars
Joseph Ruelle, 63 St. Antoine
Willie Amyot, 549 St. Patrick
Arthur Cardinal
©2017 The Past Whispers
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Marie-Joseph was born in Madeira, Portugal, one of the most important cities of the Atlantic slave trade market. At the age of 15, she was sold and brought to the New World.
She first lived in New England, until François Poulin de Francheville, a French businessman, bought her and brought her to his home in Montreal. De Francheville died not long after her arrival, but Marie-Joseph was still owned by his wife, Therese de Couagne. It is she who renamed Marie-Joseph “Angélique,” after her dead daughter.
Unlike the common idea one might have of a slave, Marie-Joseph Angélique had a fiery temper, was stubborn and willful. Not long after her arrival in Montreal, she got involved in a romantic relationship with François Thibault, a white servant who also worked for the Francheville widow. The Montreal community disapproved of this union between a black woman and a white man.
In the midst of winter 1734, the pair intended an escape: they fled together, by night, across the frozen St. Lawrence River. They were hoping to get to New-England and, from there, back to Europe. But bad weather forced them to stop not far from Montreal, and they were quickly discovered by the militia and escorted back to town.
Angélique was sent back to the widow Francheville and her intended escape went unpunished. Thibault, on the other hand, was sent to prison. Angélique continued to visit him during his imprisonment, providing him food and support, despite her mistress’s disapproval. Thibault was released two months later, on April 8th 1734, two days before the fire of Montreal.
The Fire of Montreal
April 10th, 1734, was an exceptionally mild day in Montreal. Around 6:30pm on that Saturday, most of the community was attending the evening prayers. As they were making their way back to their homes, the sentry sounded the alarm: fire! A fire had started on the south side of rue St-Paul.
Chaos ensued. The military tried to tame down the fire, but it got so strong, so fast that it was almost impossible to get close to it. Montrealers, in panic, hoped to enter their burning houses so they could save furniture and belongings from the flames. But a strong wind propagated the fire and not much could be saved: in less than 3 hours, 46 houses were burned, including the hotel-Dieu hospital. Luckily, no one died.
Accusation of Marie-Joseph
Quickly, rumor started that the widow Francheville’s slave Marie-Joseph Angélique and her lover Thibault were responsible for the fire. Many people said that Angélique was in an agitated mood that evening. Others claimed they saw her going up the stairs of the Francheville house minutes before the fire was declared. And the coincidence of the release of Thibault, her lover whom she had tried to escape with not long ago, arose suspicions. Was the pair trying to create a diversion before they would flee again? Was an angry and rebellious Angélique trying to make a statement, because her owner did not accept her love with Thibault and refused to grant her freedom?
Nevertheless, the angry Montrealers, frustrated by their losses, were looking for a scapegoat. The day after the fire, Angélique was arrested, despite the fact that she had firmly denied causing the fire. The authorities searched in vain for Thibault: he had fled and was never seen again in New France.
Trial, Torture and Execution
The arrest of Angélique began an exceptionally long judiciary process. Her trial lasted six weeks, uncommon in New France, where trials lasted no more than a few days.
22 persons – rich and poor, men and women – testified against Marie-Joseph Angélique. All admitted that they did not see Angélique start the fire, but they were unanimously convinced of her guilt. Only her mistress, the widow Francheville, stood up for her slave, persuaded of her innocence.
Despite the fact that everyone wanted her to be guilty, the judge responsible for the case, Pierre Raimbault, reputed for his severe judgments, had nothing solid against Angélique. Nothing, until a new witness appeared out of nowhere, after six weeks of trial: Amable Lemoine Monière, the five-year-old daughter of Alexis Lemoine, a merchant. The little girl swore under oath that she had seen Angélique going to the attic of the Francheville house holding a shovel full of coals, just before the fire.
Amable’s testimony sealed Angélique’s fate: although she kept claiming her innocence, she was condemned to death. She was submitted to the torture of the boot – wood planks bound to the prisoner’s legs, squeezing them and crushing the bones – before her execution, in order to make her name her accomplices. Under torture she admitted the crime, but, begging for mercy and for a quick death, she maintained she was acting alone.
Marie-Joseph Angélique was hanged on June 21, 1734, in front of the burned buildings of Old Montreal. Her body was then burnt and her ashes scattered.
©2017 Linda Sullivan – Simpson
The Past Whispers
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The remain of eight humans discovered in Quebec last month are believed to be those of Irish immigrants who died in an 1847 shipwreck off the coast of Canada, Parks Canada revealed.
The bones and skeletons, found in near Cap-des-Rosiers, Quebec, in late July, appear to be those of five adults and three children who were fleeing the Great Hunger in Ireland when their ship got into trouble during a storm.
Although the remains have yet to be analyzed, Parks Canada archaeologist Martin Perron believes the eight bodies could be the remains of some those who died when the Irish ship, The Carricks of Whitehaven, sank during a storm off the Gaspe coast.
If proven to be those of Irish immigrants aboard the 1847 ship, the discovery may be an indicator of a mass grave in the area for the massive fatalities among the 167 passengers. At first discovery, Perron stated that the bones appeared to be very ancient, possibly as old as the 170 years since the ship sank, although further analysis is needed before this is confirmed.
Adding to the evidence that this may be a burial site for The Carricks, the remains of three European children were previously discovered close to this site in 2011. The bones were found on Cap-des-Rosiers beach just a few hundred meters away from July’s grave discovery. The coroner ruled that the three children were the victims of a maritime tragedy and that they had also suffered from malnutrition, a fact that would fall in line with the theory the children were Irish and leaving Ireland because of the famine.
"All these elements point towards a mass grave that is quite ancient, which could be linked to the Carricks shipwreck,'' Perron told CBC Canada.
The Carricks was just one of the Irish ships, often called the “coffin ships,” that transported thousands of Irish people from their suffering island to a new life in the US and Canada. Unfortunately, conditions on many of these ships were deadly and hunger, malnutrition, and disease caused the death of many on the passage and many more when disease spread among immigrants and the local population on landing.
This particular ship is believed to have been traveling to Quebec in 1847, the very worst year of the Great Hunger and often referred to as “Black ‘47.”
Some 100,000 Irish immigrants made the journey to Canada in 1847, descending on the quarantine station in Grose Íle which welcomed the arrival of 14,000 Irish by the summer months alone, despite having just 150 beds. If they escaped the quarantine station, many Irish may have made it to Montreal, where typhus was killing those who survived the journey, while others carried along the river to Toronto.
A fifth of those who traveled that year - 20,000 immigrants - died.
Built in 1812, The Carricks set sail from Sligo, one of the principal points of emigration during the Great Hunger, in March 1847, under the command of Captain R.Thompson, with 167 passengers, most of whom were tenants from the Irish estates of Lord Palmerston. On April 28, she ran into a storm and most of her passengers were lost. It appears that of all those on board, only 48 made it to the shore. Nine had died previously on the voyage while the remaining 119 were lost in the wreckage. All of the crew survived but for one boy.
One Quebec film maker Viveka Melki is currently making a documentary about The Carricks ship and the fate of those poor Irish on board. During the course of her preparation for the documentary, Melki came across an obituary written by a local priest referring to the way in which the shore was strewn with bodies after the shipwreck and that a shallow, hasty mass grave had been dug for the remains along the beach, leading her to believe that this latest discovery must be several of The Carricks victims.
"It's not been easy for us or for the descendants (interviewed) in the film to even suppose that this might be the grave,'' Melki said.
Other documentaries have been made regarding the ship which focuses on the Irish-speaking family, the Kaveneys from Sligo, who five generations later are now the French-speaking Kavanaghs of Gaspé.
The areas around the bodies has now been cordoned off and Park Canada will continue to excavate the site to discover if there are further remains buried nearby.
"There's a way to give a second life to these bodies and make them talk, thanks to the different analyses that can be done,'' Perron said.
A monument already stands to the victims of the shipwreck in Gaspé, which was offered by St. Patrick’s Parish in Montréal in 1900. It is joined by the enshrined ship’s bell, discovered in 1966. The monument’s inscription reads: “Sacred to the memory of 187 Irish Immigrants from Sligo wrecked here on April 28th 1847 (Ship Carricks of Whitehaven 87 are buried here. Pray for their souls.”
-courtesy Irish Central
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
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Deeply researched, compelling in its details, and startling in its conclusions about the appalling decisions behind a tragedy of epic proportions, John Kelly's retelling of the awful story of Ireland's great hunger will resonate today as history that speaks to our own times.
It started in 1845 and before it was over more than one million men, women, and children would die and another two million would flee the country. Measured in terms of mortality, the Great Irish Potato Famine was the worst disaster in the nineteenth century--it claimed twice as many lives as the American Civil War.
A perfect storm of bacterial infection, political greed, and religious intolerance sparked this catastrophe. But even more extraordinary than its scope were its political underpinnings, and The Graves Are Walking provides fresh material and analysis on the role that Britain's nation-building policies played in exacerbating the devastation by attempting to use the famine to reshape Irish society and character. Religious dogma, anti-relief sentiment, and racial and political ideology combined to result in an almost inconceivable disaster of human suffering.
This is ultimately a story of triumph over perceived destiny: for fifty million Americans of Irish heritage, the saga of a broken people fleeing crushing starvation and remaking themselves in a new land is an inspiring story of revival.
Based on extensive research and written with novelistic flair,The Graves Are Walking draws a portrait that is both intimate and panoramic, that captures the drama of individual lives caught up in an unimaginable tragedy, while imparting a new understanding of the famine's causes and consequences.
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
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The elegant short fictions gathered hereabout the love of science and the science of love are often set against the backdrop of the nineteenth century. Interweaving historical and fictional characters, they encompass both past and present as they negotiate the complex territory of ambition, failure, achievement, and shattered dreams.
In “Ship Fever,” the title novella, a young Canadian doctor finds himself at the center of one of history’s most tragic epidemics.
In “The English Pupil,” Linnaeus, in old age, watches as the world he organized within his head slowly drifts beyond his reach.
And in “The Littoral Zone,” two marine biologists wonder whether their life-altering affair finally was worth it.
In the tradition of Alice Munro and William Trevor, these exquisitely rendered fictions encompass whole lives in a brief space. As they move between interior and exterior journeys, “science is transformed from hard and known fact into malleable, strange and thrilling fictional material” (Boston Globe).
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
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L. Sgt. Webb was born 15/Sept/1920 in Montreal to William Henry and Mary Jane Webb, one of 5 children that included John, Robert, Mary, Emily, and Marjorie.
He married Martha and they had two children, Bernard and Beverly. He attended St. George’s church.
He enlisted 8/4/1942 in The Galgary Highlanders, 79th Field Artillery and was KIA (killed in action) 26/Apr/1945 in Germany.
L. Sgt. Webb is interred at Holten Canadian Military Cemetery, Netherlands.
The Netherlands fell to the Germans in May 1940 and was not re-entered by Allied forces until September 1944.
The great majority of those buried in Holten Canadian War Cemetery died during the last stages of the war in Holland, during the advance of the Canadian 2nd Corps into northern Germany, and across the Ems in April and the first days of May 1945. After the end of hostilities their remains were brought together into this cemetery.
Holten Canadian War Cemetery contains 1,393 Commonwealth burials of the Second World War.
L. Sgt. Webb was awarded:
1939-1945 Medal
France-Germany star
Defence Medal
War Medal
CVSM w/clasp
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
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Born in Campobasso, Italy to Luigi and Angelina Somma on 2/Mar/1921, John had two brothers, Guiseppe and Diego, and two sisters, Teresa and Antoinella who became Felicetta of the Filipine Sisters. John attended St. Ann’s and was a tailor by trade.
John enlisted with Les Fusiliers Mont Royal, R.C.I.C. and was listed Missing In Action and then confirmed Killed In Action in France on 19/Aug/1942 and is interred at the Dieppe Canadian War Cemetery in Normandie, France.
The Dieppe Raid of 18-19 August 1942 was the first large scale daylight assault on a strongly held objective on the Continent since the Allied withdrawal of 1940.
The objectives of the raid were the destruction the Dieppe defences and neighbouring radar and aerodrome installations, the raiding of a German divisional headquarters close by and the capture of prisoners.
The largely Canadian military force undertook the main assault on Dieppe itself, with flanking assaults by Commando units and additional Canadian battalions to the east and west of the town intended to neutralise batteries that commanded the direct approach. Support was provided by more than 250 naval vessels and 69 air squadrons.
Only the assaulting parties on the extreme flanks came within reasonable reach of their ambitious objectives and casualties were very heavy, with more than 3,600 of the military force of 6,100 killed, wounded, missing or captured. Naval casualties numbered 550.
Many of those who died in the raid are buried at Dieppe Canadian War Cemetery, where 948 Commonwealth servicemen of the Second World War are now buried or commemorated. Other casualties of the raid are at Rouen, where some of the wounded were taken to hospital.
Pvt. Somma was awarded:
1939-1945 Star
Defence Medal
1939-1945 War Medal
CVSM and clasp
There is no headstone photograph available.
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
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"To Preserve from Desecration the Remains of 6000 Immigrants Who died of Ship Fever A.D. 1847-48
This Stone is erected by the Workmen of Messrs. Peto, Brassey and Betts Employed in the Construction of the Victoria Bridge A.D. 1859"
The worst fire in a long time, damage estimated at $7 million
Text from the Courrier de Saint-Hyacinthe , Wednesday, August 5, 1981, page 4.
For those who walk in downtown Saint-Hyacinthe the last few days, and there are many, the scene of desolation that reigns in the quadrilateral formed of Des Cascades, Saint-Antoine and Hotel-Dieu, St. Anne and St. Francis seems unreal but nothing can relive the intensity of the fire of August 2, when in a few quick hours, the destructive element, ignited by a criminal hand, would reduce to rubble no less than twenty stores and dwelling houses.
It was around 5 pm that the first alarm was sounded and when the first firefighters arrived on the scene, it was obvious that they would have to fight a major disaster already, flames crackled on both sides of the Sainte-Anne, at the height of the brewery of the old Saint-Antoine.
That is why, from the first moment, the possibility of a criminal hand was not ruled out, rightly elsewhere as it was to be demonstrated later.
This is also why he was called Sorel including firefighters who hurried towards Saint-Hyacinthe with a scale of 100 feet, as well as those of Saint-Hilaire, with a scale of 75 feet.
The flame intensity was such that the windows would burst under the effect of heat on the Rue Sainte-Anne. In addition, high voltage forced firefighters to exercise caution to avoid electrocution. The time required to remove power would have seemed significant to certain risks and were taken by the magnitude of the disaster.
With the arrival of the volunteer firefighters of Saint-Damase Saint-Dominique, La Presentation, St. Rosalie and St. Thomas Aquinas, not less than one hundred firefighters were on hand with a major equipment.
A very large crowd was also on hand and special measures had to be adopted so that everything happend in conditions as safe as possible. One of the first arriving on the scene was to evacuate the house and it is thanks to this intervention no lives were reported. At most, two firefighters were injured by smoke and burn.
Lit from the back of the brewery in Old San Antonio probably in the debris of a house demolition, the fire crossed the Rue Sainte-Anne, in the direction of the market, while continuing its destructive work between rue Sainte -Anne and Hotel-Dieu.
Many questions remain unanswered at the time of writing, while two individuals appearing in connection with the fire, including the fact that the fire is found on both sides of the Rue Sainte-Anne as quickly. Answers should be obtained during the investigation that will follow.
It only took a few hours for the flames leave behind rubble and millions of gallons of water were dumped. More than forty hours later, firefighters continued to stir debris with a backhoe to water possible homes. The destructive element seems to have been stopped in its course by the arches of the house Laflamme (at least on the side of the Rue Saint-Antoine), while elsewhere the work of firefighters focused on protecting a perimeter to contain flames.
(Translation may contain errors)
©2016 Linda Sullian-Simpson
They let it burn!
January 21, 1944, a major fire broke out on the rue des Cascades, opposite the fire station of Saint-Hyacinthe.
In the space of a few hours, seven shops and five homes were razed to the ground; the quadrilateral formed Cascade streets, St. Mary, Calixa-Lavallée and Duclos is in ruins.
Yet the Fire response time is almost nil and they are helped in their efforts by the Navy School of the fire.
And that's what makes this particular disaster.In the edition of January 28, 1944 the Courrier de Saint-Hyacinthe , Harry Bernard asks in an editorial why firefighters were so helpless. The answer takes the form of a lack of water, a drop in pressure and inadequate machinery at the aqueduct.
The plot thickens the following week when Bernard returned to the charge by saying simply: they let burn! He even adds that the refusal of the city to accept the help of the Southern Canada Power for powering the pumps is largely responsible for the disaster; that do not agree to recognize the municipal authorities, including the mayor, Télesphore-Damien Bouchard in mind.
(Translation may contain errors)
©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
