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By Melina Carrier for the ETRC
An unofficial characteristic that makes up the history of the Eastern Townships is the scenery of the landscape. The Eastern Townships is known to be one of the most beautiful regions in Quebec, diverse in both natural and historical features. One of the mascots that make up our landscape are the covered bridges that adorn the hillsides and are propped above winding rivers. For many years, these monuments of our heritage were used on a daily basis by the population and became the pillars of society resting in the memories of many proud locals. Over time, however, these bridges have become harder and harder to find as for many reasons they were torn down or demolished. Unfortunately, this became reality for many of the covered bridges in the daily lives of Townshippers. This fact holds true to the covered bridge that once stood in the village of Capelton.
Built in 1862 over the Massawippi River, the Capelton covered bridge was one of the pillars that characterized Capelton. The bridge held memories and traditions for many of the locals who added personal touches to the wood and nails, such as writing their names, or initials, on the inside of the bridge. The mines of Capelton weren’t the only pull for tourists to visit the town, many visited to see a bridge that fairly represented the history and culture of the Eastern Townships that the locals were proud of.
However, throughout the later part of the 20th century, many of the covered bridges that communities knew and loved were no exception to the perils of time as they began to degrade from the many years of usage. Many of the covered bridges became unsafe for modern traffic and needed substantial financial support in order to ensure continuous secure operation of the bridges, which some communities and private owners of the bridges could not afford. So, sadly, many fell onto a demolition list.
In the 1970s, the Ministry of Transport and the Ministry of Cultural Affairs of Quebec decided to save nine covered bridges in the Eastern Townships. By doing so, the chosen bridges would be considered ‘historical monuments’ and would become the responsibility of the Ministry of Transport to maintain. Among those saved was the Capelton covered bridge. The bridge and the surrounding land was declared a historical monument, and was therefore saved from demolition with the hopes of developing the area for tourism. The demolition of this particular bridge was considered because its owners could no longer produce the necessary financial support that would’ve been needed to ensure safe public circulation on the bridge after it had been declared unsafe for usage.
The long lifespan of the Capelton bridge would unfortunately not last forever, as the bridge was burned by arson in the wee hours of September 18, 2002, leaving behind a ghost of where this historical monument once stood and leaving the local citizens of the town to mourn the loss of the wood and nails that had built many fond memories. After the fire, what was left of the bridge structure was removed. Although there were multiple fundraisers, such as dance benefits and Oktoberfest, to get the funds necessary to fund the Capelton Bridge Reconstruction project, another covered bridge was never built.
This September will mark 20 years since the Capelton covered bridge last spanned the Massawippi and although the physical structure has been lost, it is far from forgotten. Today, when visiting the spot, indications that there once stood a monumental bridge along the river are the remaining abutments and an interpretative panel. Put in place prior to the bridge’s destruction, this panel now not only serves to educate visitors who come to see the spot, but also stands as commemoration to a covered bridge that served its community as more than a passageway across a river.
Today, the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) station – the present Marché de la Gare – stands out among the surrounding modern buildings as a gem of Sherbrooke’s past and its historic architecture has been well-preserved. However, this was actually the second CPR station to be built in Sherbrooke. When I first came across images of an unfamiliar railway station from Sherbrooke, I was surprised and curious; where could this unexpected station have been located?
As some long-time residents of Sherbrooke might remember, the first station was situated at the corner of Belvedere North and Frontenac Streets, where the tracks came to dead end. Given the cityscape around that intersection today, it’s hard to imagine what it might have looked like over a century ago with a station but, fortunately, we have images from the archives to help!
Shortly after CPR acquired the Waterloo & Magog Railway in June 1888, which already had a line from Magog to Sherbrooke, the CPR commenced clearing buildings from the east side of Belvedere and laying tracks to where the new station, along with freight sheds, would be located. Starting from the track already in place along the Magog River and the mill pond (today Lac-des-Nations), a number of rail spurs curved along the pond and crossed King Street, with one leading to the Paton Mills, while others continued across Belvedere and Marquette Streets to arrive at the station and long platform that ran nearly the whole length between Marquette and Frontenac Streets. The handsome new station was completed in 1890 but in less twenty years, CPR would be back at the figurative drawing board, planning for the construction of a new station at its railway yards near Lac-des-Nations, which is arguably where it should have been located from the outset. By 1907, rumours were already circulating that the CPR would be making large investments in Sherbrooke to build a new station and workshops.
Construction of the second station began in 1909 and was completed in 1910, effectively putting an end to the Belvedere North station’s time as the Sherbrooke image of the CPR. The spur, station building, and freight sheds would, however, remain part of the Sherbrooke cityscape for decades to come. In 1953, a frustrated Sherbrooke resident reported in a letter to the editor that the initial agreement between the City of Sherbrooke and CPR was that they vacate the site along Belvedere North by 1924. This did not happen, however, and the CPR continued to use the tracks and storages sheds to unload and store freight to be transferred to trucks for transportation. With the increased traffic congestion as Sherbrooke grew, having trains cross two main thoroughfares during rush hour, engineers ignoring traffic lights, and sometimes holding up emergency vehicles was becoming more and more untenable for the residents of the city.
By the late 1950s, there was a concrete intent to relocate the freight sheds and tracks from the section along Belvedere Street between King and Frontenac Streets but it would still be years before the plans were fully realized. The first CPR station building was finally torn down in 1963, but the last remaining sections of track crossing King weren’t resurfaced until 1979.
First organized as the Belvidere Homemakers’ Club in 1916, the first founders established the club as a way to contribute to the war effort during World War I. During the war years, the Club focused on making and collecting linens, knitted items, and food to the Red Cross and YMCA, which was then distributed to soldiers overseas. While Belvidere as a neighbourhood has disappeared off the maps, it’s notable that the Belvidere group was the second Women’s Institute founded in Sherbrooke County.
First things first: where WAS Belvidere, anyway? If you guessed that it has something to do with Belvédère Street, you are correct. The neighbourhood of Belvidere was located in the area of the present-day Felton Street in Sherbrooke. At the time, however, what would become Dunant Street was called de la Grotte Road and North Hatley Road was Upper Belvidere Road. The present Belvédère Street was called Belvidere South Street. Also worth noting is that de la Grotte Road turned at Felton Street and did not continue straight the way Dunant does today.
The street, as well as the neighbourhood, draws its name from an early 19th century property owner, William Bowman Felton, who had built a grand home in that area, which he named “Belvedere” from the Italian words for “beautiful view.” The women of the Belvidere W.I. continued acknowledge Felton’s contribution to the neighbourhood more than century later when they celebrated Sherbrooke’s “centenary” with a tea and the placement of a commemorative plaque at the old Felton property in 1937.
Although the Club organized activities in the spirit of other Women’s Institutes from the beginning, the Club was officially renamed the Belvidere Women’s Institute in 1921. Beyond fundraisers and other charitable work, Women’s Institutes across Canada played an important role in the movement towards more resources for “adult education,” which saw a heightened emphasis on providing practical classes for adults to expand their knowledge. Belvidere was no exception to this; the 1918 topics included canning, dressmaking, school libraries, and hygiene.
Through the years, the members of the Belvidere W.I. pursued many activities aimed at improving their surrounding communities but they also knew how to have some fun at the same time, including social activities, friendly contests, and creative parade floats. After 76 years of camaraderie and community service, the Belvidere Women’s Institute disbanded in 1992.
With the recent celebration of Queen Elizabeth II’s Platinum Jubilee and with Victoria Day around the corner, which is the monarch’s official birthday in Canada, it seems like a fitting time to step back nearly seven decades to the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II to see how Townshippers marked the momentous occasion.
Elizabeth II acceded to the throne following her father’s death on February 6, 1952 but her coronation only took place 16 months later, on June 2, 1953. Adding to the excitement and build-up around the ceremony, Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation was the first to be fully televised and the Commonwealth realms around the world were invited to participate with their own celebrations. Many part of Canada whole-heartedly joined in events of all magnitudes. Among the Canadian press, the demand for photographs and film reels to rebroadcast the coronation ceremony was such that jet bombers were chartered to fly film from London to Montreal immediately following the event; they landed in Montreal in the early evening of Coronation Day.
Not to be left out of the elaborate festivities in London and in the larger cities across Canada, cities and towns around the Townships went all in for their own coronation celebrations. Leading up to the coronation, the Sherbrooke High School Players put on their “Coronation Revue” in March 1953 at the Mitchell School. The two-night performance included songs celebrating the realms of the Commonwealth, followed by skits to highlight English and French Canada, and the Maritimes. The Sherbrooke Daily Record even reported on the number of babies who were born on the day of the Queen’s coronation. Among the seven babies were a set of twin girls whose parents named “Anne” and “Elizabeth” in honour of their royal birthday. For one baby boy who was still unnamed at the time the paper went to press, it was reported that the nurses were campaigning for “Philip.”
On June 2, a number of towns hosted – at minimum – a parade to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II, but many also organized festivities throughout the whole day. Sherbrooke held a full programme at the parade grounds with speeches, songs, fireworks and movies at Jacques Cartier Park, and the Sherbrooke District Council Boy Scouts hosted a “Coronation Day council fire” in the parking lot at the high school.
North Hatley celebrated with races, games, a parade, a concert, street dancing, fireworks, and closed out their event with a bonfire float in the middle of Lake Massawippi. In contrast, the village of Massawippi celebrated with the presentation of a portrait of the Queen for the Community Hall, followed by a salad and baked bean supper. In a completely different direction, Windsor hosted a Coronation Curling Bonspiel with 28 rinks participating.
As of Coronation Day, Lennoxville’s “Main Street” was re-christened to the “Queen Street” we know today, and, in addition to games and fireworks, organized a parade through the streets, led by Bishop’s College School’s Bugle Band and approximately 200 children on bicycles, tricycles and homemade floats. Coaticook hosted a Coronation dance and parade, where one of the special prizes was awarded to a bicycle-drawn wagon carrying a little girl dressed as the Queen. In Stanstead, the festivities were off to an early start with church bells ringing throughout the three villages at the exact moment of coronation (7:30AM), followed by a parade, baseball game, and street dance in the evening.
Clearly, the communities of the Townships found great excitement in Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation and enthusiastically celebrated in a variety of ways. However, while the events were organized around the coronation, the activities were also significant as an excuse for people to get out and socialize with their neighbours in the middle of an otherwise normal workweek.
While driving recently and upon seeing a sign for Tomifobia, my car-mate made a joke about a “fear of Toms” and asked where the name came from; a question I did not have answer for at the time. How did Tomifobia get its name? The short answer is that the hamlet takes its name from the Tomifobia River, which winds its way through the area. That answer, however, feels unsatisfyingly simple and, as it turns out, there is quite a bit of history of this place that traces through time in order to bring us to the present.
Going back two centuries, when American and European settlers were arriving to Stanstead County, before there was a village of any sort at that spot, Joseph Bouchette’s topographical description of the area focuses instead on Lake Tomefobi, which was fed by “a considerable stream” that eventually became known as the Tomifobia River. By the mid-1800s “Lake Tomefobi” was falling out of use and replaced by “Lake Massawippi,” which is what appears on Putnam and Gray’s 1863 map of the St. Francis District and, of course, the name by which we know the lake today. This invites questions on the origins of the names “Tomefobi/Tomifobia.” There is not much published about the etymology of Tomefobi unfortunately, but a few sources in the early 20th century recounted that “Tomefobi” was an alteration of “temossobic”, an Abenaki word for fish. Similarly, “Tomifobia” also has Abenaki origins, with the following possible meanings (according to the province’s toponymy commission): tranquil river, crooked river, winding, or river/road that walks.
Settlers, including Philip N. Smith, established mills in the early 1800s on the Tomefobi River and by 1861, the spot included a sawmill and woolen mill, along with a blacksmith shop and schoolhouse. By 1870, the Massawippi Valley Railway had completed their line connecting Lennoxville to Beebe Junction, which included station – and the subsequent establishment of a post office – at the village. Requiring a name for the post office and station, and as the Smith family were early settlers, the station, post office and village became “Smith’s Mills.” By 1898, Smith’s Mills was home to 150 people and consisted of a station for the Boston & Maine Railroad, two sawmills, a gristmill, a hotel, the Methodist church, two blacksmiths, a general store and a woolen factory.
By the early 1900s, however, the generic name of Smith’s Mills began to pose problems for people near and far. According to a newspaper article from the time, the existence of a Smith’s Mills, QC; Smith’s Falls, ON; Smith’s Mills, ME; Smithville, NS; and Smith Cove, NS caused a great deal of headache for the railway and post office, causing significant delays in the delivery of mail and freight when they went to the wrong “Smith” place. In order to reduce the confusion, the village councilors voted and Smith’s Mills was rechristened Tomifobia in July 1918. And that, my friends, is the long story of how Tomifobia got its name.
Going back one hundred years to the corner of what is presently Mansonville’s Principale and Joseph-Blanchet Streets depicts a much different streetscape from what we see today. Postcard views from the early 20th century showing the town square and the corner that was then Main and Bridge Streets are striking for the tree-lined roads and picturesque buildings, which are only vaguely recognizable to the contemporary viewer.
Existing only as a parking lot today, the Manson House hotel, sometimes also known as Mansonville House, has its origins at least as far back as the 1860s, when it was operated by James Manson. The hotel was taken over by one of James’ sons, William B. Manson, in 1871. Over its 120+ years of existence, Manson House was operated by a series of different owners, from Benjamin Sisco/the Sisco Brothers in the 1890s, to Samuel H. Botterill from sometime in the aughts to around 1916, followed by Galen Heath and his sons, Arnold and Merrill. Following the Heaths, the hotel went through a revolving door of owners from 1958 to 1983, when the Mansonville Hotel met its fate with a fire that destroyed the top two floors on June 8th, 1983 and it was subsequently demolished.
Before the hotel’s slow decline in the second part of the 20th century, it was a focal point of the town, attracting visitors from near and far. From the time of William B. Manson, the ETRC Archives has this lovely ledger recording the guests of the Manson House, beginning in 1876 and then jumping ahead to the 1910s when it was owned and operated by Samuel H. Botterill. The ledger records guests from places such as Cowansville, Magog, Montreal, California and a great many from towns in Vermont, often welcoming 5-10 guests on any given day. The Manson House had a short-lived existence as a temperance hotel in 1915, hopping on the prohibition-era trend of offering hotel-goers an alcohol-free option for their travels. The Manson House also served an important role in the social life of the town, including a third-floor ballroom and served as a gathering place for the community.
While the Town Hall resides in its original spot from the 1800s, it has gone through three versions, with the present Town Hall dating from 1923. The first Town Hall building was built by James Manson, giving it the “Manson Block” name. This building was destroyed by fire in 1910 and rebuilt as the Manson Block pictured here. For a short-lived 13 years, the three-story cement building housed the Town Hall, customs office, general store, post office, telephone exchange, and the Canadian Bank of Commerce. On January 29th, 1923, it, too, was destroyed by fire, causing upheaval in the town’s services, including a days-long interruption in telephone communication and rural mail delivery. The only items that were saved from the building were, reportedly, two barber’s chairs from the barber shop in the basement. Newspapers at the time lamented at the loss of Mansonville’s “most beautiful building.” The town hall rose from the ashes once again, however, and is the building we see today.
Brookbury. Canterbury. Bown. Bury. At one time, each of these villages located in the historical boundaries of Bury Township had their own Anglican church (most are still standing today). The proliferation of churches in Bury, which stand as important institutions in the social and religious lives of the people, can make historical research a challenge at times. A document might make reference to an Anglican church in Bury. Do they mean Bury-the-town or Bury-the-township? Moreover, if they mean Bury-the-township, exactly which Anglican Church can become a question without an immediate answer.
This is how the process goes with research sometimes. Ask a simple question and down the rabbit hole we go. A photograph identified simply as “Bury Anglican church on fire” caught my eye recently for the intensity of the flames and smoke; the photo snapped mid-destruction. A little checking and it became clear that it was not St. Paul’s in Bury but St. Thomas’ in Bown. Now a collection of a few houses and a cemetery, it once included a Protestant school, a Catholic school, and a post office along with the Anglican Church as part of its small community.
While Bury Township would eventually be home to a number of churches, St. Thomas’ in Bown was the first. Construction on the church started in 1836 and it was consecrated by Bishop Mountain in January 1849. St. Thomas’ was built by the British American Land Company to serve the immigrants they were trying to settle on the lands they had recently acquired from the government. In particular, St. Thomas’ Church and cemetery served the Bown and Canterbury communities for many years, until Christ Church in Canterbury was built in 1896.
The St. Thomas’ pictured here is the second church to sit at that spot. The first church, from 1836, is said to have been destroyed by fire, possibly around 1878 but the details are a bit fuzzy in the records. Some accounts suggest the first reconstruction attempt for St. Thomas’ ended when it was damaged in a windstorm and it was not until September 1897 that the second church, the one pictured here, was consecrated. On June 10th, 1943, a grass fire ignited and destroyed St. Thomas’, but not before most of the contents were saved from the flames. One item that could not be saved was a memorial tablet, erected in the church to commemorate Guy Thompson who lost his life while serving in World War I.
St. Thomas’ in Bown was never rebuilt, with other Anglican churches available relatively close-by to serve the Anglican community, but the cemetery remained the Anglican burial ground for the area, particularly since Christ Church in Canterbury did not have their own. In 1956, a commemorative sign was placed at the cemetery to remember St. Thomas’ Anglican Church and it remains as a testament to Bown’s rich past.
For many, the holiday season can bring mixed emotions to the surface. For some, they might be feelings of excitement and joy, for others, they might be feelings of sadness or longing, or they might be some mix of them all. As we go through another ‘Covid Christmas’, these feelings may be heightened as some are able to visit family in nearly two years, while others are kept apart yet again. The echos of voices we find scattered through the archives remind us that this season has long been one of taking stock of the present and of reflection on the meaning of home.
In the 1860s, Lyman May and Amanda Melvina May, children of Sylvester May, set out from Baldwin’s Mills to the industrial town of Lynn, Massachusetts, in search of a better future. Both Lyman and Melvina would live out the rest of their lives in Massachusetts and corresponded regularly with friends and family back in Baldwin’s Mills, some of which are now preserved in the archives. Peppered throughout the correspondence, particularly in the early years following their move, Lyman and Melvina express feelings of contentment with their surroundings while also yearning for family and friends as one year turned into another. In 1867, Lyman writes home about their celebration of American Thanksgiving:
“this day brought many recollections of the past and we talked much of friends and relatives far away; and wished that some of them were with us that we might greet each other, and enjoy a social chat; but all of no avail, it could not be.”
While the holiday season brought a longing for old acquaintances, the Mays’ correspondence often showed the most longing to be “home” during maple sugaring season. In March 1864, Lyman wrote home to his brother Darius to say that he “ought to come up to old Canada, where the snow is five or six feet deep & plough in it a while, break roads in the sugar bush place, draw manure a while, & chop wood at the door a while with you.” Excluding sugaring season, however, Lyman seemed quite content to leave Canadian winters behind in favour of the more mild winters of Massachusetts!
Forty years later, we find Minnie Bowen spending Christmas on Pilley’s Island in Newfoundland. Born and raised in Sherbrooke, Minnie spent fifteen months on Pilley’s Island while her husband, Cecil, worked as the General Manager of the mines. The couple was on the Island for Christmas in 1891, during which time Minnie reflects on the traditions she is missing back home as she writes
“I wonder what you and Merrie are doing this Xmastide which – must all pass so far from home! I suppose Carrie is deep in the Xmas Club – but I hope she is writing to me too for I will get letters sometime – I have been thinking of you all so much – and wishing to see you.”
Despite these sentiments, Minnie makes the most of Christmas on Pilley’s Island for the families of the miners as she set up a Christmas tree and organized a party for the children (all 200 of them!), gifting them with sweets and other small items.
A half century later, the world found itself amidst yet another World War, with thousands of soldiers experiencing the daily horrors of the warfront. During this time of danger, fear, and stress with few reprieves, small comforts from home were made all the more meaningful. For one bombardier from Cowansville, Geroge S. Heatherington, care packages from the Soldiers Comfort Club meant enough that he kept the tags from each one he received. One Christmas comfort package received by Heatherington included a cake, shoe strings, peanuts, life savers, paper and envelopes, chocolate drink powder, pudding, 50 cigarettes, chocolate bars, and cheese. Another package similar items as well as tea, razor blades and shaving cream, and gum. Like many other benevolent organizations during the Wars, the Cowansville Soldiers Comfort Club was organized in 1940 to fund raise and collect goods to send to soldiers. By 1945, the Cowansville Club was mailing 150 packages each month to the men fighting overseas, including at least one prisoner of war. For soldiers and airmen like Heatherington, beyond their practicality, these care packages brought with them reminders of home and the community that was supporting them.
You would think that being presented with a photograph of an unidentified town with relatively substantial mining operations visible in the background would be fairly easy to situate and identify. Or, at least, that was my first thought when I saw this photograph of a long, building-lined main street with a distinct slope and large tailings piles seen in the background but, as it turns out, I was wrong. Looking at old topographic maps showing mining operations pointed to a few possibilities, including Robertsonville and East Broughton, but the lack of any visible church and slope of the street didn’t seem to quite fit. Finally, the lightbulb moment came from another photograph labeled as the Quebec Asbestos Corporation in East Broughton. The challenge had arisen because the mining town was actually East Broughton Station, a neighbourhood community connected to East Broughton but not shown in the photo.
Before the establishment of the mines, East Broughton Station was just that: a station stop along the Quebec Central Railway adjacent to East Broughton, which was a small village whose existence was largely to provide services, such as a church and a post office, to the surrounding farmers. In 1892, in the very early days of the mining operations, East Broughton had a population of 150. Around that time, Messrs. Walsh and Mulvena (likely Henry Mulvena and John H. Walsh) were getting an asbestos mine established in East Broughton. This mine would in time come to define the economy of the town. Initially, many of the miners worked seasonally and divided their efforts between mining and farming but as asbestos mining became more lucrative, employees went from being farmer-miners to miners and the part of the village known as East Broughton Station expanded to house them. By 1921, the population of East Broughton had grown to 1,709, with the asbestos industry solidly rooted as the dominant employer.
Although it had been operating for almost a decade, the Quebec Asbestos Corporation was officially incorporated in 1901 by a group of Townships men, including Henry W. Mulvena (district magistrate), John H. Walsh (railway purchasing manager); Arthur H. Anderson (railway purchasing agent); John Mulvena (farmer) and Thomas D. Walsh (railway agent). By 1915, however, Philip Carey Manufacturing, a company operating out of Ohio, had acquired Quebec Asbestos Corp. Focusing on asbestos and asphalt building materials, Philip Carey Mfg expanded their holdings in the province to include a processing plant in Lennoxville and offices in Montreal.
In 1949, Le Devoir published a scathing report by journalist Burton LeDoux on asbestosis, careless mining company owners, and the health of residents of East Broughton where he describes an asbestos dust that blanketed East Broughton Station and the inescapable cough that all mine employees suffered from during their long hours in the freezing, unventilated plants. His report on the critical health risks from work with asbestos was significant because it was the first to be written in French and widely circulated, doing a great to deal raise awareness among miners about how seriously they should be considering their work environments. While the employees of Quebec Asbestos Corp. chose not to strike in 1949, LeDoux’s exposé on East Broughton contributed to the 1949 strike at the Johns-Manville Company in Asbestos.
Facing declining demand for short fibre asbestos, the Philip Carey Company, which had become Carey Canada, finally closed the East Broughton asbestos mine in the spring of 1986. At the time of its closure, it employed 170 people. Despite this devastating blow to the one-industry town, East Broughton weathered the challenges and today its population is not that far from its asbestos-mining heyday. Decades have passed since the mine’s closure but its imprints on the town’s history are still visible, the tailings piles off in the distance.
As the depths of the Great Depression were starting to wane into the late 1930s, members of the Sherbrooke Chamber of Commerce put their weight behind the idea of throwing a spectacular event to celebrate Sherbrooke’s centenary in 1937, which would serve to boost the local economy and morale during those trying times. Only, it was later realized that the year 1837 bears no real historical significance and Sherbrooke’s 1937 celebrations were actually for a fake centenary.
It should be noted that the prominent political and business figures in Sherbrooke believed that 1837 was a date of real significance, being the year of Sherbrooke’s incorporation and the year the City’s first newspaper began. As the details of history have unraveled over the decades since then, however, it was noted that Sherbrooke was not actually incorporated at that time (that would not happen until 1852) but that 1837 was the first time “Town of Sherbrooke” was used. With more unraveling, it was found that even the first usage of the “Town of Sherbrooke” didn’t occur until 1839, and that the Sherbrooke Gazette was preceded by the St. Francis Courier and Sherbrooke Gazette, which began publication in 1831.
Real or fake, there is no question that Sherbrooke put together an impressive event for the month-long centennial celebrations, which were then rounded off with the Sherbrooke Fair. From the beginning, the organizers focused on Sherbrooke’s industrial and technological importance in the region, with much of the publicity referring to the “Queen City of the Eastern Townships” and “Electric City.” These were clear themes throughout the publicity and programming of the celebration. In particular, Sherbrooke’s electrical prowess was highlighted with light decorations and displays throughout the streets. All of the bridges and the main thoroughfares – King and Wellington Streets – were decorated with thousands of lights, and the programme included nighttime dances organized in the streets illuminated with multicoloured lights and live music amplified through speakers.
The other key theme of the events was the city’s history over the century. This was highlighted in various ways, beginning with opening ceremonies officiated by Sherbrooke’s Mayor Emile Rioux accompanied by actors portraying Gilbert Hyatt, one of the earliest settlers, and an “Indian Chief,” all surrounded by heralds, criers, a bugler, and a drummer. The historical theme continued throughout, including a historical pageant presented three times per week, a historical ball with participants in costumes from different periods, and a weekend where the Grand Trunk Railway’s oldest engine from the era when railway service first came to Sherbrooke in 1853 and the newest engine available – Canadian National’s 6000 – were on display. The historical pageant, itself, was an impressive production, which included 1,500 costumed performers, 270 dancers, and two choirs performing at the new amphitheater specially built for the centenary on the Sherbrooke fairgrounds.
The centenary events also hosted a number of dignitaries, including Premier Maurice Duplessis, Senator John Nichol, and Quebec’s Lieutenant Govenor Esioff-Léon Patenaude, and guests of historical significance, such as the son and daughter of Alexander T. Galt. Premier Duplessis’ visit included a radio broadcasted address where he praised Sherbrooke for its successes, remarking that “it has been rightfully said that Sherbrooke is the Queen City of the Eastern Townships – and what a graceful and charming Queen she is.” His observations also concluded that the harmony and “entente cordiale” between English and French in Sherbrooke should be an example to the rest of the province and the country.
It’s been more than eight decades since Sherbrooke’s Centenary but the event continues to live on in the collective memory through photographs and memorabilia that still surface regularly, making it an event with lasting importance, even if it was for a fake anniversary!