The Elections
MR. J. G. GRIFFIR hold his first meeting at the Royal Hotel, Richmond, on Monday evening. Mr. J. E. Onus, J.P. in the chair. The meeting was well attended, and Mr…
Continued on Trove, page 3 →Hawkesbury (Windsor & Richmond) · Politics & elections
Politics & elections, 1887
9 stories in Hawkesbury (Windsor & Richmond)'s papers
Local and General. the Election
LOCALLY we are going ahead fizzing, as the cognoscenti say. As was expected by many, the stalwart Alex is in the field, and as a Bowmanâshould do, he is pulling…
Continued on Trove, page 3 →Local and General. the Election
[?] we are going ahead fizzing, as the [?] As was expected by many, the stalwnt Alex is in the field, and as [?] [?]—should do, he is pulling…
Continued on Trove, page 3 →Local and General, the Elections
MR. ALEXANDER [?] addressed the electors for the first time in Windsor during the present campaign, on Saturday evening, from the balcony Of the Fitzroy Hotel. Mr…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →Local and General. the Elections
MR ALENANDER BOWMAN addressed the electors for the first time in Windsor during the present campaign, on Saturday evening, from the [?] of the Fitzroy Hotel. Mr…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →The Elections. Polling Day at [?]
THIS eventful day was a dull one—not a gleam of sunshine [?] the [?], and the rain seemed as it [?] until it had accumulated so as to come down straight…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →The Election's. Polling Day at Windsor
THIS eventful day was s dull one—not a gleam of sunshine enlivened the scene, and the rain seemed as if it kept off only until it had accumulated so as to come down straight…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →THE [?] Chronicle. the Farmers' Advocate. Saturday, February 19, 1887. Our Election
IT is over; it came—not like a rocket, but like a penny squib; it fizzed, vent out, and now there is nothing left bat a [?]. All the trouble, all the noise, waste of breath…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →THE Hawkesbury Chronicle. the Farmers' Advocate. Saturday, February 19, 1887. Our Election
IT IS ever; it came—not like a rocket, but like a penny squib; it fizzed, went out, and now there is nothing left but a stink. All the trouble, all the noise, waste of breath…
Continued on Trove, page 2 →