Category Archives: Nova Scotia

Venus and Jupiter

  
Taking a break from the Canada Day fireworks over Halifax Harbour on July 3, 2015 (fog post-poned from July 1st), the ‘double stars’ of Venus and Jupiter hang over the harbour, as if to guide the festivities.

Snapped via my iPhone 6.

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Blizzard of March 18, 2015

 

It was a blast.

Did you know that Nova Scotians have over 30 curse words for snow?

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The Foothills of Heaven

The Bras d’Or Lakes, viewed from the lookoff at Irish Cove.

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Mike Campbell photo

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Pure Rock Joy

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RUSH, Halifax Metro Centre, Halifax, Nova Scotia (July 12, 2013)

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July 13, 2013 · 12:07 pm

Grog Shops of Halifax: a History

If I ever owned a tavern in Halifax, I’d want to call it The Grog Shop, but I doubt that name would get licensed; I seem to recall a rule about purveyors of booze not supposed to make it sound like they were purveying booze.  Anyway… here’s a trip through time to give you an idea of what a pub crawl would have been like in the city’s early days.

I have a map of early Halifax (it’s titled “Map of Halifax: 1749-1830” and was prepared and drawn by George T. Bates (I’m not sure when, but it was some time after 1950).

Among other things of historical interest, the map shows the sites of the first 30 liquor licenses in Halifax plus some other notable establishments.  John Shippey received the first license on July 17, 1749 – the year the city was founded by the British.  It doesn’t list a name of his establishment, but it was located on Lower Water Street, just south of Salter Street (or, roughly, where the parking lot of the Keith’s Brewery is now).  It says that “On Aug 24, 1750, married Sarah Allen, a widow.  Family totaled 7 (2 males, 3 females over 16, and 2 boys under 16) in the 1752 Census.  Other record is scanty”.  Shippey’s name lives on.

William Crafts received license no.2 on the same date as Shippey’s, but had it cancelled on December 27, 1749.  Wild Christmas party?  This was located on Barrington Street, just north of Blowers Street on the harbour side of Barrington.  I think that’s where the old Mason’s building is now.

John Williams received license no.3, just two days after Shippey and Crafts.  No info, but Bates mentions that there were 3 men with this name among the first settlers.  (As every school kid knows, or knew, there were 2,547 of them, and they arrived on board ships with names like Alexander, Baltimore, London, Fair Lady, Winchelsea and Merry Jacks.)  His establishment was located on Albemarle Street – up off Duke Street toward Citadel Hill; north of Duke St, I’d say between where Market Street is now and Brunswick Street.

License no.4 was issued to John Aubony on July 21, 1749.  In May of 1753, Aubony is shown as owning “The Mairmaid Tavern” near ‘the Beach’ (there was a beach?), i.e. Water Street.

Richard Wenman received the fifth license on July 28, 1749.  His establishment was located on Bedford Row between George and Duke Streets.  According to Bates’ research, Wenman married a widow named Ann Pike on July 21, 1751.  Their daughter Susanna married the Hon. Benjamin Green, MLA for Halifax (1765-1770).  Wenman died on September 28, 1751, aged 70.

John Willis received licence no.6 on August 11, 1749.  It was also on Abermarle Street, up near John Williams’ place.  Bates seems to indicate that Willis’ licence was associated with The Great Pontack.  Located at the northwest corner of Duke and Bedford Row, The Great Pontack, notes Bates, was the best known of Halifax inns, and was built by the Hon. John Butler before 1754, when it first gained notoriety, and remained at the center of Halifax social life and entertainment for the next 30 years.  Bates: It’s name appears constantly in the records of this period of Halifax’s history.

On August 21, 1749, licence no.7 was given to the one and only Ewnosh Auchmuty.  His name does not appear again, so he might be Eunice.  One John Auchmuty died October 31, 1750; spooky.  Alas, there are no Auchmuty’s in the Halifax phone book today.  The Auchmuty establishment was located between Argyle Street and Barrington Street on Buckingham Street, which no longer exists (the Scotia Square shopping/office complex would be there now).

Jean (or Jane) Gibbons received licence no.8 on August 1, 1749.  I see the city clerk was getting his dates and licences out of order; what do you expect with so many taverns around town?  Gibbons appears to be the first woman to operate a drinking establishment in Halifax.  She was located down on Lower Water Street, just south of Shippey’s place along the Keith’s Brewery property.  There was a well just outside her front door.  She was a widow, and she married Edward Lush on October 26, 1749.  Lush died on April 24, 1753.  On Tuesday, December 18, 1753, following a night of “Mirth”, she was seized with a “Fitt” and literally died laughing two hours later.

Esther Addington received licence no.9 on August 22, 1749.  The location of her establishment is not noted, and Bates notes that she was not mentioned again in records.

Licence no.10 was granted to Samuel Blagrave on August 22, 1749.  Blagrave’s establishment was located on Bedford Row between Prince and George Streets.

Within 8 months of the city’s founding, its 30th liquor licence was granted.  The demand was obviously there.  We won’t put all the blame on the city’s first citizens; after all, it was a British garrison and naval port.

Some other establishments of note include:

* the Jerusalem Coffee House which was built as a residence by the Hon. Thomas Saul in 1753.  It was later occupied by the Hon. Alex Brymer.  It was let out as a coffee house by around 1789 and was kept by Wyndham Madden.  It was destroyed by fire in 1837.  I think it was located around where the Law Courts are now.

* at the Blowers Street end of Argyle Street, William Piggott was granted a licence to operate a coffee house with a billiard table on April 8, 1751.  It apparently moved in 1753 to Granville Street, near the “Sign of the Black Bull and Butcher”.  Captain Piggott operated “The Duke of Cumberland’s Head” for about 20 years after which it may have been called the Wolfe Inn.  Here would be an example of where the establishment goes by the description of the image of its street sign (what came first, the name or the sign?).

[first posted to The Campblog on July 30, 2005]

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Filed under Canada, Halifax, History, Nova Scotia, Wine & Spirits

Back to School / Games (Little) People Play

It’s that time of year again (well, almost).

Here is a re-post of a few things from The Campblog recounting my school days and youth growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada (started school in 1970).  From August 28, 2003, “Back to School”:

It’s getting near that time of year again.  I always liked school, but I especially loved going back to school.  I enjoyed it whether it was going to university, or high school, or elementary/junior high, but I guess I’m writing about elementary school here.

One reason for this was that I grew up in a neighbourhood that was somewhat remote from the school itself.  I had friends from school in that neighbourhood, as well as friends from other schools, but no one really from my grade that I hung out with in the summer time.  So, when September rolled around, it was great to go back and see everyone again.

Which teacher will you get?  Who will be in your class?  What kind of a class will it be?

Buying new school supplies was always neat.  New pencils.  New erasers.  Hilroy notebooks.  Just the simple, stapled kind.  But there was nothing better than starting out a fresh ‘scribbler’.  In certain grades, the teacher let you get those coil-bound scribblers, but some wouldn’t allow them.  I preferred the coil-bound ones, though.  New crayons!  And, wow!, those years when you were allowed to use coloured pencils!

I remember Grade 6 was the year our teacher made us use cartridge pens.  What a bloody mess.  All year.  Cartridge pens weren’t made for use by 12 year olds.

There was also some continuity there, as I attended ten grades at the same school, Primary to 9.  In Nova Scotia, kids start school at age 5 and go into Grade Primary.  Then it’s 1-6 in Elementary School, and 7-9 in Junior High.  (I know High School starts at Grade 9 in some provinces.)  Anyway, my school was P-9, so you saw a lot of the same kids and teachers, year after year after year.  The same school, the same school ground.

Except in 1974, our school, St. Agnes School on Mumford Road, burned to the ground.  I was in it when the fire started.  I was in Grade 3.  It was a freezing cold winter’s day, January or February.  If I recall, there were some workmen working with a blow torch in one of the washrooms and it caught fire, spreading quickly.  I remember the fire drill that brought us outside into the cold (without our coats or boots).  I remember watching the firetrucks arriving and the principal coming to the door, telling us to hurry back inside, to put on our coats and boots and go straight home.  Odd that they allowed us back in, but I suppose he had some idea of the spread of the fire.  Some kids were in gym and didn’t have time to get changed, and had to be rushed to a nearby church hall until they could be taken home or picked up by their folks.  I remember seeing the smoke rising into the sky that evening, and I went over to a friend’s place and we talked about the day’s excitement.

The school did burn to the ground.  I remember a fair bit of fuss being made afterward because a large statue of St. Agnes that stood in the main hall was basically undamaged, except for one hand, which was subsequently redone.  Was it a miracle?  It was something, anyway; something that just added to the story of the school burning down in the middle of a school day with not a single injury.

I remember over the next few weeks walking through the burned out rubble.  I think I even remember the smell.  A neighbour of ours found my brother’s school file, largely intact.  There really wasn’t much left, though.

While I wasn’t particularly frightened by the day’s events, I was concerned about where I’d have to go to school now.  I remember there was a lot of worry that the classes would have to be split up, but the school board kept us all together, housing us at different schools for the next year and a half of school.  St. Agnes was rebuilt and we started back there in September 1975.  Now, that was exciting; going back to the rebuilt school.

I can hear the crickets this evening.  Fall isn’t too far off.

There’s a football in the air 
Across a leaf-blown field

Funny.  I’ve noticed as late as last evening (August 25th, 2012), that I hadn’t yet heard any crickets.

And from August 29, 2003, “Games (Little) People Play”

My recent post regarding ‘back to school’ got me thinking about the old school ground, particularly, school yard games that we used to play.

I saw a piece on CBC tv a year or so ago about a teacher (in Dartmouth, I believe) who noticed that the kids weren’t playing any games.  They were just standing around.  So, she took it upon herself to teach them some good old-fashioned school yard games.  I forget, though, which ones she taught.

The one I remember most from elementary school was called Four Corners.  Part of the school yard was paved in large square concrete slabs.  The object of the game was to have your foot on one of the corners.  Five people played, four on each corner with one in the middle.  The people on the corners tried to change places, usually along the sides of the square but it was also possible to go diagonally across, if you could make it.  You’d generally grasp hands or wrists with another person from another corner and pull yourselves across to the new corner.  You scored “one” for every time you switched places.  The person in the middle would try to get his/her foot on one of the temporarily vacant corners during one of the switches.  If they did, then the person who wasn’t on a corner was now in the middle.  That was actually a fun game and I think it took up a lot of time during recess and before school/returning after lunch.  As these square concrete slabs were adjacent to one another, sometimes the game would be expanded to use two or even four of these squares.

Another game that took hold probably in later elementary grades was Chestnuts.  There are a lot of chestnut trees around Halifax.  (There are a lot of trees, period — it’s wonderful.)  So, every fall there would be lots of chestnuts on the ground.  You took a chestnut (the nut inside, not the prickly shell), dug/drilled a hole in the middle, and attached it to a length of thin rope or string, maybe a foot long.  The object of the game was to smash the other guy’s chestnut.  (Ouch!)  If I recall correctly, you got 3 tries.  Your opponent would hold his arm out, and dangle the rope/chestnut; you then had three tries to break your opponent’s chestnut.  Then he’d try to break yours and you’d keep going, each with 3 tries.  I’m right-handed, so I’d hold the rope in my right hand, and the chestnut in my left hand, then swing/fling down hard and try to make contact with the opposing chestnut.  Hopefully, it would break.  If it broke, your chestnut would score “one”.  Each time you were able to break another guy’s chestnut, you added one to your own chestnut’s score.  If your opponent’s chestnut already had built up it’s own score, by breaking his chestnut, you’d get all his built up points.  So, you’d get one for beating him, then if his chestnut had 10 points, then you’d already have 11.  It was the chestnut that built up the score, not the player.  I seem to recall that the smaller the chestnut, the more success you’d tend to have.  Some guys were using varnish or shellac or anything they could find to make their chestnut’s impervious to attack.  I’m sure there were guys who had chestnuts with scores into the hundreds; understandably, they were the main targets for all the young guns.  One game and you could get like 600 points!  I wonder who ended up winning.  Is there still some super-chestnut out there with wins in the millions??

Into junior high, a popular activity for some of us was using those little rubber ‘superballs‘ and firing them around the school yard.  There was a large outside brick wall of the gym was an excellent spot for bouncing the superballs off of (grammar!) …an excellent spot against which to bounce superballs.  There.  Not so much a game as a pastime, there be a dozen or more guys playing.  One would fire it against the wall, and whoever caught it on the way back of course threw it the next time.  Those little balls could really move.

(May 29, 2004)
I’ve been meaning to add a few more items to the (above) post from last year.  Alan had some followup, too (at the time).

Mike is at it again. Posting about things I wished I had thought of. His post about playground games reminds me of stickball.

This was played in one field in Kingston, Nova Scotia in the early-70’s behind Jeff Bond’s and Tony Smith’s houses. We were taught the rules by older kids who drifted out of the game when they were about 12. You were brought in the game when you hit around 9. The game was a variation of baseball with lots of cricket influence. You played with a broom handle and an india rubber ball. The ball was thrown at the batter who could hit it 360 degrees. Like cricket, there was no foul. The ball also had to bounce like cricket before the batter hit it. There were four bases around which you ran like in baseball. No one wore baseball gloves. At any time you could pick off a player by drilling the ball at them if they were not touching a base. If they were hit, they were out. I think there were three outs like baseball.

Anyone else have a local game?  I can think of “Red Rover” and “Redlight, Green Light” in the Queenston Drive Elementary schoolground at Erindale Woodlands of Mississauga in the late 60’s before we moved to NS when I was 7.  Also, king of games, “500 Up”which I played before I was ten until after I was 20.   The elemental “Tag” and “Hide and Seek” with its variant “Kick the Can” were also big in Kingston, N.S. during elementary school.

Anyway, these are more neighbourhood games, as opposed to schoolyard games.  The first is called Chase.  It’s sort of hybrid of capture the flag and hide’n’seek.  There are two teams, a team that runs off and hides and then the ‘chase’ team who tries to track the other team down.  The game was played over several blocks, in and out of any backyard to which you could gain access.  There was a homebase, usually Peter and Paul’s back step.  So, here goes:  one team has taken off.  The other follows.  You usually hunt in packs, to try to flush out someone from the other team and head him into a trap.  If you tag someone, they’re caught and have to head back to the homebase.  There, however, they can be set free by a teammate who runs to the homebase and tags them (I forget, it could be that you just had to touch the steps for everyone to go free).  So, once you had caught someone, you had to guard the homebase.  You could have someone sit right there, which would ward off any freeing attempt, or you could lurk nearby, out of sight of the prisoners who would give you away, and try to nab the prison breaker before he released the other prisoners.  This game was enjoyed for a summer or two, and was great fun; it lasted for hours, you were dead tired at the end of it, and was a good mix of exercise and strategy.

I can just imagine the gnashing of teeth that I’d be experiencing if neighbourhood kids were running through my yard the way we used to run through our old Halifax neighbourhood — belated apologies! 😎

Another game was Murderball.  No strategy to this game.  This had an even shorter run, but was played for a time.  It’s perhaps the final stage in the devolution (evolution?) of football via the Rugby School family tree.  This was a game of hitting, tackling and pain.  But you didn’t care.  You wanted the ball.  It started somehow, someone just grabbed the rugby ball and took off; usually played in someone’s backyard, so there was a finite playing field.  The others tried to tackle you to the ground and you just tried to avoid them.  Once tackled, you threw the ball up in the air and someone, possibly you, grabbed it and ran off with it again.

Aw, the street lights are on.  Crap.  Gotta go home.

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