!SOURCE: Scott Richard McLeod, smcleod@@landoflakes.com
Archibald was the first generation in the family to drop the "a" from
MacLeod making the name "McLeod". The change in spelling was probably
not intentional. In a time when most could not read or write, it was very
common, especially among the Irish and Scottish, for names to be
misspelled after someone in the family learned to write.
Archibald was a transportation worker. He was working on the railroad
in the expansion territories of Canada. Later in life, he took up a
religious ministry.
Archibald died on Thursday, December 6, 1917 at 9:05 a.m.. Dawned
bright and clear in Halifax. World War I raged in Europe, and the port city
was busy with the movement of war ships carrying troops, relief
supplies and munitions.
Around eight that morning, the Belgian relief ship Imo left its mooring
in Bedford Basin and headed for open sea. At about the same time, the
French ship Mont Blanc was heading up the harbour to moor, awaiting a
convoy to accompany her across the Atlantic. A convoy was essential;
this small, barely seaworthy vessel was carrying a full cargo of
explosives. Stored in the holds, or simply stacked on deck, were 35 tons
of benzol, 300 rounds of ammunition, 10 tons of gun cotton, 2,300 tons
of picric acid (used in explosives), and 400,000 pounds of TNT.
The Imo, a much larger and faster ship than the Mont Blanc, passed into
the Narrows. She was travelling fast, and too close to Dartmouth when
the Mont Blanc first spotted her. The Mont Blanc, not flying the
regulation red flag to indicate she was carrying explosives, signalled
that she was in her correct channel; the Imo, however, signalled that she
was intending to bear even further to port, closer to Dartmouth and
further into the Mont Blanc''s channel. The Mont Blanc signalled again that
she was still intending to pass to starboard; she was by this time very
close to the Dartmouth shore and travelling "dead slow."
The Imo, however, did not swing towards Halifax, as the Mont Blanc
expected; she signalled instead that she was maintaining her course. The
Mont Blanc, perhaps wrongly, saw only one course open -- to swing to
port, towards Halifax, across the bows of the Imo, and thus pass
starboard to starboard.
Perhaps the ships might have passed without incident, but the Imo
signalled "full speed astern." So did the Mont Blanc, but it was too
late. Reversing her engines caused the Imo''s bow to swing right, and it
struck the Mont Blanc -- missing the TNT, but striking the picric acid
stored directly beneath the drums of benzol on deck. The impact cut a
wedge in the Mont Blanc''s side, and struck deadly sparks.
The crew of the Mont Blanc, aware of their cargo, immediately took to
the lifeboats, screaming warnings that no one heeded. They rowed for
Dartmouth, leaving the now furiously burning ship to drift towards
Halifax, propelled in that direction by the Imo''s impact.
The Mont Blanc drifted by a Halifax pier, brushing it and setting it
ablaze. Members of the Halifax Fire Department responded quickly, and
were positioning their engine up to the nearest hydrant when the Mont
Blanc disintegrated in a blinding white flash, creating the biggest
man-made explosion before the nuclear age. It was 9:05am.
Archibald and over 1,900 other people were killed immediately; within
a year the figure had climbed well over 2,000. Around 9,000 more were
injured, many permanently; 325 acres, almost all of north-end Halifax,
were destroyed.
Much of what was not immediately levelled burned to the ground, aided
by winter stockpiles of coal in cellars. As for the Mont Blanc, all 3,000
tons of her were shattered into little pieces that were blasted far and
wide. The barrel of one of her cannons landed three and a half miles
away; part of her anchor shank, weighing over half a ton, flew two miles
in the opposite direction. Windows shattered 50 miles away, and the
shock wave was even felt in Sydney, Cape Breton, 270 miles to the
north-east.
There were about 20 minutes between the collision and the explosion at
9:05. It was enough time for spectators, including many children, to run
to the waterfront to watch the ship burning, thus coming into close
range. It was enough time for others to gather at windows, and thus an
exceptionally large number of people were injured by flying glass --
1,000 unfortunate survivors sustained eye damage.
Not surprisingly, hospitals were unable to cope with so many wounded.
There was also a desperate need for housing, and the misery was
compounded by the blizzard that struck the city the following day,
dumping 16 inches of snow over the ruins and their sooty, oily covering.