“In that brief space of time, a huge and active city lay as if stunned, with hardly a noise coming to mar the strange hush that had descended so suddenly.”
Article content
On Aug. 31, 1932, Montrealers stood still for a few minutes and looked skyward.
Some sat on the stairs of the chalet at the crowded Mount Royal lookout. Workers gathered on the roof of the Sun Life Building, priests atop Notre-Dame Basilica. Others stopped in their tracks on Ste-Catherine St.
Article content
Their eyes protected by special glasses purchased from newsboys, they grumbled when clouds blocked the total solar eclipse but were awed by the spectacle of the pall, hush and chill that briefly fell over the city.
Advertisement 2
Article content
On the eve of the 2024 total solar eclipse, newspaper articles about the last one paint a picture of life 92 years ago, when Montreal was Canada’s largest city and economic centre.
There was a buzz before the big event.
For days, newspapers were all in.
Much like in 2024, articles analyzed weather forecasts, explained eye protection, detailed what scientists hoped to learn and offered advice on good vantage points.
Experts recommended Mount Royal, McGill University and Fletcher’s Field (now known as Jeanne-Mance Park).
City hall announced street lights would be flicked on in time for the darkness, citing possible traffic hazards. Police constables were instructed to warn children about the dangers of watching with the naked eye.
Premier Louis-Alexandre Taschereau met his cabinet early that day so he and ministers could travel to Batiscan, near Trois-Rivières, to take in the eclipse.
The Montreal Royals-Albany Senators baseball double-header at Delorimier Stadium was moved up by 15 minutes, with plans for an “intermission while the sun and the moon have their innings.”
Today’s One Read
Article content
Advertisement 3
Article content
Eaton’s and other retailers put on “eclipse sales” (camera film, two for 29 cents; eclipse glasses, 10 cents) — and ordered stores closed at 3 p.m. so employees could enjoy the phenomenon.
Hoteliers tried to lure Montrealers.
The Knowlton Inn in the Eastern Townships promised good sight lines. The Shady Nook Inn on Lac Mercier in the Laurentians advertised its location “on the edge of the totality belt.”
Transport companies also cashed in.
Canadian National Railways put on special trains to take Montrealers to Sorel, where the total eclipse would last 100 seconds. At McGill, by contrast, it would be only 26 seconds.
More than 500 people, “including university professors and scientists,” were expected aboard the “eclipse ship S.S. Richelieu,” scheduled to head to Lac St-Pierre, near Sorel, for an uninterrupted view of the “solemn and impressive spectacle.”
“A delightful afternoon on the water, with refreshing afternoon tea served after the sun and the moon have exchanged greetings and you are steaming homeward in the cool of the evening,” Canada Steamship Lines said in an advertisement. “Bridge tables available. Concert and dance music.” The price: $2.
Advertisement 4
Article content
Scientists and journalists from the U.S., England and France convened in Montreal. Some booked airplane flights to admire the eclipse from above the clouds.
On the day of, newspaper reporters fanned out across the city to cover the drama.
But clouds ruined the show, obscuring the view of the sun-moon interaction.
“In Montreal and district the general feeling was one of disappointment, although it was widely admitted that the short interval of darkness was highly impressive,” the Gazette reported on its front page.
“Hundreds of persons occupied every possible vantage point early in the afternoon and made ready, film screens in hand.
“On Fletcher’s Field large groups gathered to witness the much-advertised spectacle; the slopes of the mountain were crowded with others who went up by special street cars or by foot.”
“Every large building had its quota of sky-gazers on roofs, galleries and ledges, with a fringe of humans visible atop the Sun Life Building; two priests were even seen on the roof of Notre-Dame (Basilica); there were men on the top of St-Joseph’s Oratory.”
Advertisement 5
Article content
On Montreal streets, “men and women paused here and there to gaze hopefully at the spot where the sun and moon were supposed to be staging a friendly meeting; newsboys continued to shout hopefully that they had ‘eclipse glasses’ for sale.”
On Mount Royal, “a large number of birds congregated just before the period of darkness, apparently affected by the change in temperature,” while “squirrels and chipmunks were moving about very slowly.”
The temperature dipped by 4.5 degrees Fahrenheit, according to the Montreal Star.
“In the middle of yesterday afternoon the sun disappeared and nothing except a flare remained in the sky to show where it had been,” the Star reported. “The world was dark … we knew that a false night brooked on the face of the earth (but) it was awesome.”
As the total eclipse began, a Gazette reporter wrote, “the sky grew suddenly very dark, as if night was falling like a blanket. The sudden sweep of the moon’s shadow could almost be felt; there was a hush; the darkness grew heavier and hung like a pall over the city.”
It was fleeting, “but the sudden changes in those few seconds had been awe-inspiring in the extreme. … In that brief space of time, a huge and active city lay as if stunned, with hardly a noise coming to mar the strange hush that had descended so suddenly. The street lights shone brightly as the darkness increased and then dimmed quickly as the light of day returned.”
Recommended from Editorial
Article content