Cover image: Plan shewing the Survey of part of the Park East of the Town of York into 1/2 Acre Lots by Command of His Excellency Sir John Colborne, Lieutenant Governor &c By James G. Chewett Surveyor York June 21st 1830. Source: Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources, Office of the Surveyor General: SR394 [via Distillery Historic District]
For nearly a century, a pentagonal plot of land existed at the foot of Sumach Street on the east side of Toronto. Its odd shape was created by a bend in what is now Eastern Avenue to the north, Cherry Street at its western edge, and a smaller street framing its southern and eastern sides. This space went through multiple uses before disappearing altogether from Toronto’s street grid.
This uniquely shaped lot of about 12 acres was laid out by at least 1830. Before this, the area east of Parliament Street to the Don River was the “Park Reserve” — government land originally intended for ‘other’ uses. South Park Street, the old name for Eastern Avenue, takes its name from this historical locale. An 1830 Plan (see cover image) for the area earmarks its potential original use as “Reserved for a Market”. Few details exist about this history, but it must be noted that the smaller street along its south and east was originally named Market Street.
By the 1850s, the marketplace became “The Pound”. More specifically, it was the City Pound. The City Pound was a very important piece of civic infrastructure in mid-19th century Toronto. The area was reserved for stray animals, namely cattle, which had wandered off from their owners. The related governing law was “The Pound Law,” which outlined the powers and provisions for municipal pounds. It set out which parts of the city were subject to the law, how many pounds were required in the city, the powers of pound keepers, and more. It was amended many times in the 1850s and 1860s. For example, in June 1858, it was proposed: “it should not be lawful for any person to drive cattle to the Pound between the hours of seven o’clock in the evening and six in the morning.” This was to combat cows being taken out of stables during the night and brought to the Pound, which was much to the chagrin of ‘many respectable people’. In April 1863, it was moved that the fine for allowing pigs to roam on the streets be increased from sixty cents to one dollar. In 1876, an alderman motioned to convert the city pound to a cattle market. It was referred to the Committee on Public Markets, but nothing appears to have resulted from the proposal.
Boulton Atlas of the city of Toronto and vicinity, 1858. Source: Toronto Public Library
By 1880, South Park Street was renamed “Eastern Avenue”. The Eastern Avenue City Pound was relabeled the “East Pound” in the city directories. Curiously, two other entries were also present: at 75 Eastern Avenue: Lackey Jas, caretaker (City stables); and at 77 Eastern Avenue: Corporation Stables. The directories later in decade labelled the stables at 95 Eastern Avenue. An October 1886 Globe article mentioned police horses were “stabled in the city’s old building at the foot of Sumach Street.” Fire Insurance Maps from 1889 show that the plot was built on in the decade, including “city weigh scales.” Other maps from the time also show several buildings on the site at the time.
Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto, 1889. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In 1888, Market Street was renamed Worts Avenue. The Gooderham and Worts Cooperage was located on the south side of the street, east of Cherry Street and north of Front Street. In 1901, George Gooderham built three semi-detached houses on the south side of Worts Avenue.
Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto, 1903. Source: City of Toronto Archives
By the early 1890s, “The Pound” was made a public park. This park seemed to have several names in the records: St. Lawrence Square/Park (named for its ward), or Coatsworth Park, which is said to be the original name for the park. In June 1894, a large open-air meeting was held in the park for a Labor candidate in East Toronto. In the 1900s, the park hosted concerts from the Cadet Battalion Band, the Governor General’s Body Guard Band, and the Queen’s Own Band. Interestingly, by 1910, the city stables and city pound were moved further east on Eastern Avenue between Cypress Street and the Don River.
St. Lawrence Park in 1908. Sumach Street in the background. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
In March 1906, it was announced that the Canadian Northern Railway was looking at the eastern central district of Toronto as the site of their new freight shed to serve its James Bay Railway. The railway purchased a large property bounded by Beachall Street, Trinity Street, Front Street, and Eastern Avenue, which included St. Lawrence Square. The sale price of the park was $14,000. The move would have perhaps the most transformative effect on the space.
It does, however, look like St. Lawrence Square endured into the 1910s. The Toronto Playground Association opened the C.N.R. playground in the park in the summer of 1911. The city finally reported the closing and sale of Worts Avenue in 1917 to the Canadian Northern Railway (Canadian Northern merged with Canadian National Railway in 1923). The park no longer appeared in the directories by the end of the decade. In the 1920s, the Dominion Wheel and Foundries Co. occupied the site. With Worts Avenue gone, it spelled the end of the pentagonal plot that once housed the market, city pound, and corporation stables and yard.
Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto, 1924. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In the 1960s, the complexion of the corner changed again, partly to accommodate the new Don Valley Parkway. Sumach Street was rerouted to curve and align with Cherry Street to the south. Eastern Avenue was rebuilt with a new alignment between Sumach and Lewis Street (located east of the river), curving northeast at the former location of St. Lawrence Square. It effectively removed the distinguishable northern corner of the former city pound. The move also closed the old Eastern Avenue Bridge over the Don River (the causeway still stands today, leading to nowhere).
In the late 1980s, as Toronto as a whole moved into a post-industrial era, the area south of Eastern Avenue and east of Cherry Street was earmarked for redevelopment. The industrial and railway lands were to be rezoned for residential use. The original name of the project was “St. Lawrence Square”, later renamed “Ataratiri”. It eventually failed. In the 21st century, the lands finally became the new Canary District development, part of the West Don Lands mixed-use community. The history and geography of the former market, pound, and park is now hidden under an eco-friendly self-storage facility.
Note: This is the secondarticle in a series which aims to describe the 230-year evolution of the Castle Frank area.The first part is available here.
“The Sugar Loaf hill stands alone in the Don Valley. It is still covered with woods that join with those of Castle Frank, a quarter of a mile off in the woods, between the two hills, is a pine-tree in whose top is a deserted hawk’s nest. Every Toronto school-boy knows the nest, and, excepting that I had once shot a black squirrel on its edge, no one had ever seen a sign of life about it. There it was year after year, ragged and old, and falling to pieces. Yet, strange to tell, in all that time it never did drop to pieces, like other old nests.”
E.T. Seton, Wild Animals I Have Known
In 1898, author, naturalist, and artist Ernest Thompson Seton released his famous Wild Animals I Have Known, a compilation of short stories from his time exploring Toronto’s wilderness in the 1880s and 90s. In particular, Seton spent a lot of time in the Don Valley and Castle Frank Hill. English-born Seton grew up in nearby Cabbagetown.
E.T. Seton’s tales recounted the stories of the certain wildlife inhabiting the district, including Silverspot the Crow, Red Redruff the Patridge. He also noted other animals such as the blue jay and rabbit. Prevalent in Seton’s characterization of the fauna of the area were the old pines, hemlocks, grapes, and berries, altogether painting a pristine picture of the hill.
Decades later, another Don Valley explorer, conservationist Charles Sauriol also recounted the hill:
“The visitor who glanced down from the ramp of the viaduct, sees the top of the hill almost level with the floor of the bridge. The C.N.R. line flanks the hill on the east. North-westwards, a panorama of woodland (Old Drumsnab), becomes in summer a vista of undulating waves of billowy leafage extending towards Rosedale Ravine.”
Charles Sauril, Tales of the Don
Sauriol spent his summers between the 1920s and the 1960s in a cottage in the Don Valley. He was an advocate for the preservation of the valley.
The Castle Frank that Seton knew and explored was during a period in which the hill was largely untouched since the activities of the Simcoes and others, but would be on the cusp of major changes. The last two decades of the 1800s saw a transformation of and debate over the future of the hill and valley(s) below. As history moved into the following century, it would see an intensification in housing, three major public works projects, and an institutional additional – all that would change the complexion of the hill snd its surrounding area forever.
A New…and Newer Castle Frank
Walter McKenzie was the Clerk of the County Clerk for Toronto. He was also a former soldier. By the 1850s, he had taken up residence on Castle Frank Ridge. Along with a house, which he also called “Castle Frank,” there was an orchard and vineyard overlooking the Don River, located north of the spot where Mr. Simcoe built his cottage. It was the first permanent home on the hill since the ancient Castle Frank burned down in 1829.
In 1857, McKenzie placed an advertisement in The Globe selling “About Four Hundred Standing Pines,” located on the forested hill. McKenzie was a well-connected man in Toronto, particularly in the law profession; his son-in-law John Hoskins, also a lawyer, lived in the nearby “Dale” estate. Drumsnab, the other neighbour 19th century prominent estate, was also occupied by lawyers, first William Cayley and then Mr. Maunsell B. Jackson. McKenzie passed away in 1890.
The Globe, January 6, 1857. Source: Globe and Mail Archives
Albert Edward Kemp was a very successful businessman who founded the Kemp Manufacturing Co., metal located at Gerrard Street East and River Street. In 1900, he entered federal politics, rising to prominence as Minister of Militia, a role that led to his knighting. In 1902, as a member of Toronto High Society, he built “New Castle Frank” on the site of McKenzie’s Castle Frank. Kemp died in 1929; his mansion stood until the 1960s.
Honourable Sir Albert Edward Kemp’s home Castle Frank, Castle Frank Road, 1910s. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Castle Frank Brook & Rosedale Valley Road
“Immediately under the site of Castle Frank, to the west, was a deep ravine containing a perennial stream known and marked on plans as ‘Castle Frank’ Brook, which entered the Don at one of the ‘Hog’s Backs’ referred to, where also was a small island form in the river…”
Henry Scadding, 1895
The Don River tributary known as Castle Frank Brook ran in a northwesterly direction to its heads near Dufferin and Lawrence. It is also known by other names: Severn Creek and Brewery Creek after the Severn Brewery, formerly located where the stream crossed Yonge Street. It also has gone by Davenport Creek, possibly because it passed through the Davenport estate.
Plans for a road and sewer through Castle Frank Brook ravine began in the late 1880s. The reasons for its transformation were twofold. First, following a general public health phenomenon in the city which called for the burial of polluted open waterways and creeks, it was decided to put Castle Frank Brook into a culvert. The creek’s state had deteriorated as the “northern district” had developed. Second, the idea of the road gained traction following a general movement towards “park drives” or “parkways.” The eventual Rosedale Valley Road married the two goals.
Proposed location of Rosedale Ravine Drive, 1890. Source: City of Toronto Archives
The Globe reported:
The plan for the Davenport Creek ravine drive provides that it shall leave the road near the Winchester street bridge, on the way to the Silver Creek drive, and descending in the ravine follow near the line of the present creek. After passing St. James Cemetery, the drive will go through the property of Mr. Walter Mackenzie. After crossing the Castle Frank road it passes through the property of John Hoskin, S James, Margaret James, H J Clark, J L Thompson, R K Burgess, Alfred Chapman, William Croft, George and James Murray and F E Hodgson.”
The Globe, March 5, 1887
In 1887, Toronto City Council approved the expropriation of “a sixty-six foot roadway through it [Rosedale Valley] on the local improvement principle and the laid the sewer in the new street.” St. James Cemetery agreed to give the city any lands without any cost to the city. In the 1890s, the area was graded and the necessary construction took place. Awards were made to property owners by the city.
But the road construction was not without controversy. The City expropriated parts of the estates listed above — or so it thought. A clerical error did not properly register the expropriation, making it and the opening of the street illegal. The by-law outlining the expropriation was sent to the Registry Office to be registered in 1888. However, it should have been accompanied by a plan by Unwin Sankey and Browne, showing the land to be expropriated so that the affected properties could be identified. The plan was not sent, and the expropriations were not registered. The error was not discovered until a decade later. Rosedale Valley Road was opened without officially expropriated the needed lands.
The affected owners protested about their requirement to pay their share to open the road. The idea seems to be that Rosedale Valley Road was to be opened as a ‘local improvement project’, meaning that affected residents of the area were supposed to fit the bill to build the road. With this error, the courts quashed residents of any obligations – effectively placing the City of Toronto and its general tax base on the hook. In early 1899, the city registered a new bylaw regarding Rosedale Valley Road, and the lawsuits continued regarding the “debentures” of the street. It is unclear how the matter was resolved.
In 1897, the road was described as “…one of the coolest, shadiest and most beautifully picturesque roads in or near this city.” It is a description that holds today.
Rosedale Ravine, 1912. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In 1905, it was briefly proposed by Alderman McBride to make Rosedale Valley Road into a ‘speedway’ for horses from Park Road to Winchester Street. St. James Cemetery stated they would have never donated the land for the road if this would be the plan.
The Cemetery & The Park
St. James Cemetery opened in 1844 across the ravine opposite Castle Frank on donated land from the Scadding estate (previously the Simcoe estate). By 1897, a proposal existed to expand the cemetery’s grounds north of Rosedale Valley on Castle Frank Hill. The plan proved to be very controversial.
The proposal at heart looked to convert the land on Castle Frank Ridge into parkland and space for graves. The problem was the hill was subdivided with lots and owners by at least the start of the decade.
Plan of St. James Cemetery in the City of Toronto, 1902. Source: City of Toronto
In 1897, Mayor Fleming and a contingent of politicians and ‘leading citizens’ toured Toronto by motorcar as they assessed potential park sites. They began at Queen Street and Logan Avenue. Reaching and crossing the Don, they scouted Sugar-Loaf Hill, a thickly wooded triangular hill that was said would make a picnicking area as part of the ‘Parks Plan.’ Next, they noted “the steep and wooded eastern side of Castle Frank, for the securing of which the Mayor is negotiating with owners of the St. James’ Cemetery, who have bought that whole district from Dr. Hoskin.” This latter point is important as it signaled a disputed future for Castle Frank Hill.
A NATURAL PARK
As one drives up the Ravine road on the right hand, as far east as the Don, all this territory, undesecrated by the end of man, with its three and a half acres of indescribably lovely side-hills and twenty-three acres acres of additional property on the summit, is to be virtually owned as a public park by the city of Toronto on certain conditions.
The three and a half acres is to be a gift to the city from Dr. Hoskin. The owners of the St. James’ Cemetery will control the flat at the top and provide for its beautification and maintenance. They ask that the city allow them to use the level land on the Castle Frank eminence as a burial ground, and that the city build a road from the drive to the top of the hill, so that a hearse can safely ascend the incline. This road will cost about $2,000 and a fence to enclose the whole cemetery park another $1,000. This is really the sole cost to the city for this magnificent park.
The Evening Star, July 17, 1897
In September 1897, the owners of lots 28 to 31 Castle Frank Avenue made a protest to the city about the cemetery extension, which they argued would destroy their property as it would be located adjacent against a cemetery.
Then, a Mrs. Mary Hebden, owning 10-13 Castle Frank Avenue of plan 686, filed a formal suit:
“…to restrain the city and the churchwardens of St. James’ from passing any by-law or resolution to permit burial on any of these lots, or to allow the churchwardens to enlarge the cemetery, or to perform any interments within the city limits, outside the limits of the present cemetery.
It also sought to prevent the city from amending any standing by-law as to burials within the city limits.”
The Evening Star, October 19, 1897
Mrs. Hedben’s suit against the city was heard several months later. Her lawyer, Mr. Hodgins, asked for an order to prevent the cemetery from adding more lands and for any agreement to exist between the cemetery and the city. This was denied as City Council could vote how it wanted. Hodgins then argued a statute that prevented cemeteries from being established within city limits but the law did not apply either.
In October 1897, the cemetery was anxious to have the by-law passed. Its trustees met with the City Board of Control to negotiate terms. City Council also met at the Castle Frank table to go over the boundaries of what would be park and what would be cemetery; property owners, led by Mr. Jackson of Drumsnab, were there to protest. By November, talks between the city and cemetery had broken off as the city found the trustees unreasonable in their terms. The cemetery in the meantime began to make arrangements with Dr. Hoskins to bury in the property they did own. Eventually the scheme was dropped entirely by the city. The matter was finally reopened in the following October with new negotiations.
Plan showing the green space bordered by Bloor Street, the Don River, Wellesley Street and Parliament Street, indicating streets, lot divisions, St. James Cemetery, and the lands to be used for park space, circa 1898. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In December 1898, the Globe reported the City had finally reached an agreement with St. James Cemetery to add forty-two acres of parkland in the Rosedale Ravine. At a special Board of Control meeting to discuss the plan, Mr. Jackson again argued his objections, stemming from a loss of taxes on would-be property, the need for a clause to compensate property owners, and a letter from medical men advocating that cemeteries should not be established within city limits. The agreement was referred to council.
By early 1899, it was advertised The McIntosh Granite and Marble Co. a mausoleum built on the Castle Frank section of the cemetery for a W.R. Brock, Esq. In July, the city and cemetery entered into an agreement for the city to lease some cemetery property for parkland in return for permission to bury in Castle Frank. It was opposed by a Mr. J. G. Ramsey who owned property at Castle Frank and Mackenzie Avenues and argued it would “render his property comparatively valueless.” A very animated Mr. Jackson also spoke against it. The plan was sent to council without recommendation as no consensus was reached.
The Globe, January 2, 1899. Source: The Globe & Mail Archives
Curiously, as the city moved into the twentieth century, the records are silent on what happened next regarding this contentious episode. It must be noted that by the end the decade and into the 1910s, houses began to sprang up on Castle Frank Avenue on the ridge and there are no references to the cemetery. The City of Toronto today lists the area south and east of the street as parkland.
Castle Frank in the Goads Fire Insurance Map, 1913. Source: Goads Toronto
The Bloor Viaduct
While the earliest mention of a bridge across the Don Valley joining Bloor Street and Danforth Avenue was in 1897, proposals on how to make it happen came about in the following decade. With the likely need to traverse Rosedale Valley as well, Castle Frank Hill would become an important part of the project. One idea involved two bridges running west and east from Castle Frank Crescent, connecting with Howard Street over Rosedale Valley and Winchester Street over the Don Valley, respectively. However, a prominent idea was put forward by City Engineer C.H. Rust which recommended a one mile-long bridge straight from Sherbourne Street to Broadview Avenue and another shorter viaduct extending from Parliament Street to meet it a “T”. Arguments over the impact it would have on Rosedale Valley by the Guild of Civic Art and Civic Improvement Committee as well as Rosedale resident concerns led to a “no” vote in referenda in 1910, 1911, and 1912.
Sources: The Toronto Daily Star, Nov 28, 1906; The Toronto Daily Star, June 6, 1917; The Globe, Dec 29, 1910; The Globe Dec 28, 1911; The Globe Jan 1, 1913
On January 1, 1913, the Toronto electorate voted to finally build the Bloor Viaduct. Construction began officially in 1915, although preliminary work was done in the years that preceded. The eventual design relied on two separate bridges to cross both ravines as well as the extension of Bloor Street between Sherbourne and Parliament Streets, which would be facilitated by landfill terraces. The bridges consisted of a ‘diagonal’ Rosedale section between Parliament to Castle Frank and a ‘straight’ Don section between Castle Frank and Broadview Avenue. Both sections were similar in aesthetic, made of concrete and steel, and highlighted by large arches. A lower level for a future streetcar line was added to both bridges. The bridge opened in sections with the entire structure – officially The Prince Edward Viaduct – being available on October 18, 1918.
1917 Bloor Viaduct looking west to Parliament Street, panorama and deck, 1917. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Opening of Bloor Viaduct - Don Section, 1918. Source: City of Toronto Archives
The eventual changes to the geographic imprint of the area extended past just the additions of the new bridges and roads. In order to facilitate those additions, several losses had to take place. There were several residences razed for the Bloor Street extension, including the Castle Frank gatehouse at Parliament Street, its neighbour at 102 Howard Street, and other structures at Glen Road and Sherbourne Street. On the Castle Frank Hill, it appears that at least one or two residences on Castle Frank Road — such as number 87 — were lost where the new street was set to go in and parts of other lots gave way for the new street layout. In 1922, Castle Frank Road south of the Bloor Viaduct was renamed to Castle Frank Crescent (ironically, a name it once held before it was combined into Castle Frank Road).
Rosedale Section – east approach seen from Parliament Street, north to Howard, looking north east, 1915. House in process of demolition is 87 Castle Frank Road. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Castle Frank, pre and post-Bloor Viaduct, 1913 & 1924. Source: Goads Toronto
The Don Valley Parkway & The Destruction of Sugar Loaf Hill
The middle of the 20th century saw a string of major civic projects which would collectively change the local complexion of the Castle Frank Region. The first of these was a freeway through the adjacent Don Valley. Planning began in 1954. This would be a different kind than the parkway built through the Rosedale Valley nearly sixty years prior. In the lower valley, the project consisted of the main highway which would run on the east side of river and the southern extension of Bayview Avenue running parallel to it on the west side of the river beside the train tracks.
The Bloor Street Viaduct looking east, 1917. Sugarloaf Hill is on the right. Source: Wikimedia Commons
A product of the creative destruction of the Don Valley Parkway was the removal of Sugar Loaf Hill, the conical mound located north of Castle Frank that the Simcoes, E.T. Seton, and Charles Sauriol all noted and explored. It would be levelled to make way for the Bayview Extension. Several lamenting articles appeared in newspapers over the event. In 1958, during the construction of the highway, Globe writer Scott Young wrote:
“Soon it will be gone and fast bright cars on the Don Valley Parkway will stream north and south over one more vanished place where boys once roamed alone, every step an adventure, and even the crows had names.”
Scott Young, The Globe and Mail, May 8, 1958
Young also spoke to Charles Sauriol about the loss:
“As he says, nobody seriously contends that a hill that few people ever even look at, or use much (although a worn path twisting to Sugar Loaf’s top ends now suddenly in the wake of a bulldozer) should stand in the way of a needed roadway.
Yet it is an item of history. Going, going, gone.”
Castle Frank area, 1959. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Young, like Ron Haggart writing for the Toronto Daily Star, referenced E.T. Seton and Silverspot. Haggart was writing on the eve of the opening of the Don Valley Parkway in August 1961:
It will be open in time for the afternoon rush hour. And, not seeing with the same eyes as Ernest Thompson Seton, we can drive over the 137,000 tons of asphalt which now lay in the Don Valley, skirting the Don River bright with the chemicals of the paper mill under the 600 towers of the fluorescent lighting standards, which never will house an old hawk’s nest known by every school boy.
‘I’ll tell you what the Don Valley was,” Frederick Gardiner said once, when someone on his Metropolitan council, mourned for the passing of the woods by Castle Frank, “the Don Valley was a place to murder little boys, that’s what it was”
Ron Haggart, The Toronto Daily Star, August 30, 1961
Frederick “Big Daddy” Gardiner was the Chairman for Metro Toronto Council and was a bold and controversial figure who was involved in several public works projects, including the Don Valley Parkway and the elevated downtown highway which would later bear his name.
The DVP’s other impact was a long offramp for the Bayview/Bloor exit that would wind its way across the valley and down to Castle Frank Road. The ramp would absorb part of the Drumsnab property (the old estate house is visible on the right as one drives south on the ramp) as well as part of Drumsnab Road.
Castle Frank area, 1963. Source: City of Toronto Archives
A New Subway
The next time a major infrastructure project touched Castle Frank was in the 1960s, when an east-west, cross-town subway line was planned for Toronto. With the Bloor-Danforth corridor ultimately chosen for the project, decisions would need to be made about how it would cross the Don and Rosedale Valleys and a location for the station itself. Construction began in 1962.
As a cost-cutting method, the route was chosen to run under the lower deck of the existing viaduct. At least, it would be on the Don section. The turns on the Rosedale section were deemed too sharp for trains. Thus, a separate structure – a covered bridge – ran between Castle Frank Station and the infilled Bloor Street over Rosedale Valley. The elevated tunnel was encased to minimize noise concerns for the nearby Kensington Apartments (which were incidentally built on the site of John Hoskin’s Dale, demolished in the 1940s or 50s).
Subway tunnel over Rosedale Ravine, 1967. Source: City of Toronto Archives
The station itself was built on the northwest corner of Bloor Street East and Castle Frank Road. At least four residences were removed to make space for the station and a bus station. The station opened on February 26, 1966 along with the rest of the line.
The Castle Frank School
Lady Kemp passed away in 1957, twenty-eight years after her husband, Sir Edward Kemp. Their palatial Castle Frank was put up for sale; executors of her estate put a sale price of $1.2 million. The City of Toronto, Metro Council, and the Toronto Transit Commission turned down opportunities – likely because of the price tag – to turn the site into a park, a parking garage, or a subway station. The Toronto Civic Historic Society pitched to Ontario Premier Frost to turn it into a residence for the Lieutenant-Governor. It was also proposed as a museum for York County.
The emerging proposal came from prolific Toronto developer Reuben Dennis in late 1958. His vision was to raze the mansion to erect a 21-storey, 972-unit luxury apartment building. Residents of Castle Frank Crescent, whose homes backed onto the property, opposed the rezoning of the single-family residential area. The affected residents included some of Canada’s most prominent citizens, such as former Prime Minister Arthur Meighen, Mr. Justice Gibson of the Ontario Court of Appeal, Lew Haymen, the managing director of the Toronto Argonauts, and Mrs. H..J. Cody, the wife of the late former president of the University of Toronto. The residents – who called the plan “ghastly, revolting, and a great pity” – organized into the South Rosedale Ratepayers. The battle continued in 1959 with the Toronto Planning Boarding rejecting the application and the Ontario Municipal Board being asked to change the zoning.
The Globe and Mail, December 18, 1958. Source: Globe and Mail Archives
By July 1960, Castle Frank was back on the market. The new plan was for a vocational type school for a “lower middle group of secondary school-age pupils and others who do not plan to go university.” The Kemp estate accepted a $700,000 offer. The Globe and Mail described:
In the beginning, Castle Frank will operate with an experimental program designed to build up an approved curriculum for its 500 students. The new Boulton Avenue School could become the second of this type in Toronto.
Castle Frank and the junior vocational schools are based on the concept that slow learning or emotionally disturbed pupils have a special place in a modern society with a rapidly changing technology.
Castle Frank also takes into account that there are many intelligent students who do not want to go to university and need some educational medium other than the existing academic, technical or commercial high school
The Globe and Mail, November 17, 1960
Castle Frank School was opened in 1963. It operated until the 1990s when “an organized abandonment” led to a change in model. A rebrand in name also came with the move: Rosedale Heights Secondary School, later Rosedale Heights School For the Arts. The institution that stands today, housing a salvaged piece of the Kemps’ residence and a plaque. The principal at the time of the shift hoped to name the new school after Elizabeth Simcoe.
Remembering Castle Frank
Today, the Simcoes’ 1790s summer residence is honoured in name by Castle Frank Road, Castle Frank Crescent, and Castle Frank Subway Station. In 1954, the Don Valley Conservation Authority (of which Charles Sauriol was a member) erected a cairn dedicated to Castle Frank in Prince Edward Viaduct Parkette on the south side of Bloor Street. The monument dons the image of the home and reads:
“Castle Frank
The country home of Lieutenant Colonel John Graves Simcoe first Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada 1791-1796, stood on these heights just south of this site 1794-1829. Named after Francis Gwillim Simcoe, son of Lieutenant Governor and Mrs. Simcoe, who died in the year 1812, serving under the Duke of Wellington.”
Castle Frank Cairn. Source: Google Maps
The Ontario Heritage Trust also erected one of their iconic blue plaques in honour of Elizabeth Simcoe. It stands inside the grounds of the Rosedale Heights School, which might have bore her name at one time. The plaque says:
“ELIZABETH POSTUMA SIMCOE 1766 – 1850
The wife of the first Lieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, Elizabeth Posthuma Gwillim was born at Whitchurch, Herefordshire, England. Orphaned at birth, she lived with her uncle, Admiral Samuel Graves, and subsequently married his god-son, John Graves Simcoe. She accompanied her husband to Upper Canada where she travelled extensively. Her diaries and sketches, compiled during these years, provide a vivid description and invaluable record of the colony’s early life. In 1794, near this site, Mrs. Simcoe and her husband erected a summer house which they named “Castle Frank” in honour of their son. Returning to England in 1796, Mrs. Simcoe devoted her later years to charitable work. She is buried beside her husband at Wolford Chapel, Devon.”
Castle Frank, in its post-contact era, began as a beautiful hilltop locale, hand-picked by Toronto’s top administrator to house his residence. The layers of activity over the next two centuries continued to prove its desirability, facilitated in part by its central location and unique situation between two valleys. These commemorations mark a place and people important to the early colonial history of Toronto. The events that point in time added intriguing layers which together tell an interesting story.
Sources Consulted
“About The City.” The Globe, 3 June 1890, p. 8.
“Apartments Planned for Historic Site.” The Globe and Mail, 18 Dec. 1958, p. 5.
“Ask OMB to Amend Castle Frank Zoning.” The Globe and Mail, 30 Oct. 1959, p. 4.
Bateman, Chris. “The Modernist Bloor-Danforth Line at 50.” Spacing Toronto, 25 Feb. 2016, spacing.ca/toronto/2016/02/25/subway-modern-at-50/.
Berchem, F. R. The Yonge Street Story: 1791-1860: An Account from Letters, Diaries and Newspapers. Natural Heritage/Natural History, 1996.
“The Bloor Street Viaduct.” The Globe, 13 June 1913, p. 6.
“The Bloor Viaduct Conference.” The Globe, 19 Jan. 1912, p. 6.
Bonnell, Jennifer. Reclaiming the Don: An Environmental History of Toronto’s Don River Valley. University of Toronto Press, 2014.
Boylen, John Chancellor. The Story of Castle Frank, by J.C. Boylen. Illus., from Original Sketches Painted by Mrs. John Graves Simcoe.
Brace, Catherine. “Public works in the Canadian city; the provision of sewers in Toronto 1870–1913.” Urban History Review, vol. 23, no. 2, 1995, pp. 33–43, https://doi.org/10.7202/1016632ar.
“City’s Proposed Plan For Crossing The Rosedale Ravine – And Another.” The Globe, 29 Dec. 1910, p. 7.
“Colleges Free of Taxes.” The Globe, 22 Oct. 1897, p. 5.
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“The Expensive By-Law Plan, and Another.” The Globe, 28 Dec. 1911, p. 7.
Filey, Mike. Toronto Sketches 3: “The Way We Were.” Dundurn Press, 1994.
“Finds Building Apartments Fascinating Job.” The Globe and Mail, 27 Oct. 1959, p. 18.
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Haggart, Ron. “Earnest Thompson Seton And The New Parkway.” Toronto Daily Star, 30 Aug. 1961, p. 7.
Hamilton, James Cleland. Osgoode Hall–Reminiscences of the Bench and Bar. Nabu Press, 2010.
Henderson, Elmes. “BLOOR STREET, TORONTO, AND THE VILLAGE OF YORKVILLE IN 1849 .” PAPERS AND RECORDS, Ontario Historical Society, XXVI, 1930, pp. 445–456.
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2022 marks ten years for Scenes From Toronto. This year, I committed to a goal of two articles a month when possible. Out of 24 possible articles in the month, I published 17. Although I did not match my goal, I am proud of that output.
2022 also followed the momentum of the previous year in creating original, research-based articles, drawing on primary and secondary sources, as well as the work of great historians and writers. I hope they have added to Toronto’s rich local heritage scene and telling the city’s lesser known (hi)stories.
The Stats
The Best of 2022
To mark the year, I have compiled my favourite ten articles.
1. “Old” Toronto Streets: An exploration of a peculiarity in Toronto’s geography and streets. This is a multi-parter.
6. The Rise of The Hill District, Toronto: The origin of one of Toronto’s exclusive neighbourhoods is an interesting tale of the who’s who in Toronto history and a period in which Old Toronto’s street grid began to fill up.
Note: This article is the second piece in a two-part series.The first can be found here.
In the 1960s, Toronto had a big question to address: “What would replace the commercial section across The New City Hall?” What followed was action to remove the Queen Street shops between Bay and York Streets and replace them with a complementary project worthy of the new civic centre.
The Expropriation Question
As Toronto entered the 1960s, progress on the Queen Street question seemed slow. In October 1960, there were reports that demolition would begin in the autumn of 1961 or spring of 1962 on the “seedy” south side. The Planning Board was preparing an invitation to attract private developers to redo the site. However, in May 1962, this draft invitation was presented to city council for approval. City Council now had the estimate down to $6,250,000 to buy the properties, but the The Globe and Mail anticipated difficult negotiations with property owners, particularly with the Municipal Hotel and Casino Theatre, who where the largest land owners on the block. The city approved a motion to start expropriating properties, but it was unclear whether this was a path to be taken.
Queen Street West, 1963. Source: City of Toronto Archives
“The Commercial Slum Across City Hall”, 1964. Source: Toronto Star Archives.
For the Municipal Hotel, owner Arthur Mintz was not going along with city plans to redevelop his property. He had his own project: a three million dollar, 14-storey office tower to replace the hotel. Mintz’ hotel was key in building an office tower at Queen and Bay, but the owner was not going to sell at even a reasonable price to a developer, instead opting to go at it alone. A by-law was passed indicating that whatever new development went through on Queen, the ends of the strip would have towers while the middle would be lower so not to “spoil the view” of the new city hall. The holdup? Owners of these central lots were unwilling to sell. The Daily Star’s editorial section and others advocated for expropriation.
“The Commercial Slum Across City Hall”, 1964. Source: Toronto Star Archives.
Redevelopment
On August 12, 1964, Toronto City Council voted 17-4 to expropriate most of the block bounded by Queen, Richmond, Bay, and York Streets. Mayor Phillip Givens, a pro-development politician, was a large proponent of the expropriation option and the redevelopment of Queen Street as a whole. It was the first time in Toronto history in which the city opted to expropriate land to sell to private interests rather than execute a public project. Development Commissioner Walter Manthorpe warned that renewal was still another 10 years away with steps needing to be taken to take seek Ontario Municipal Board approval for the expropriation, take possession of the properties, demolish them, sell to developers, and come up with a redevelopment plan for the province’s approval. Proposals started to come in which would the potential form the site and Queen Street in general would take, including an interesting plan which would see a tunnel under Queen and the surface turned into a pedestrian mall between Yonge and University.
Controller Herbert Orliffe’s Plan for Queen Street, 1964. Source: Toronto Star Archives
1964 South side of Queen Street West. Union Hotel at 71-73 Queen St. W., the Broadway Theatre at 75, Harry’s Men’s Shop at 79, the Frankel Building at 81, the Toronto Labour Book Store at 81A. Lawrence Credit Jewellers at 83, the Lantern Cafe at 85, and the Festival Cinema at 87-95. The Festival was known as the Casino and the Civic Square Theatre. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Queen Street Redevelopment Plan, 1964. Source: Toronto Star Archives
Much like the civic centre on the north side of Queen, the city decided to hold a design competition for the block leftover by the soon-to-be expropriated and demolished shops. The eastern end of the block would not be part of the project. In November 1964, Mintz sold the Municipal Hotel to a private developer, Reuben Dennis. The other properties included the Victory Building on Richmond St., the Temple and Dominion Bank Buildings on Bay St., and the Hamilton Trust property on Queen Street, the latter of which suffered a fire in 1963 and which Dennis also bought.
Givens’ View Across Queen Street, 1965. Source: Toronto Star Archives
69-73 Queen Street West, 1965. A vacant building and the east side of the Union House. The Victory Building on Richmond Street West is visible behind the empty Queen Street West demolition site. Source: City of Toronto Archives
On September 13, 1965, the new City Hall and Nathan Phillips Square was revealed to Torontonians. The winning space-aged design by Finnish architect Viljo Revell consisted of two curved towers of differing heights, a central ‘oyster’ housing the council chamber, and a large open space with a wading pool, arches, public art, and a podium.
79-83 Queen Street West, showing Harry’s Men’s Shop and Vanguard Bookstore in the Frankel Building, and Lawrence Credit Jewellers on the west side of the Broadway Theatre, 1965. Source: City of Toronto Archives99-109 Queen Street West, showing Downtown Resales, Richmond’s Trading Post, Barney’s Furniture Resales, S. Simonsky Ltd., and Showbar Good Food, 1965. Source: City of Toronto Archives
105-115 Queen Street West, showing Barney’s Furniture Resales, S. Simonsky Ltd. (vacant), Showbar Good Food, Toronto Trading Mart, Henry & Co. Jewellers, and vacant commercial space, 1965. Source: City of Toronto Archives
South side of Queen Street, 1965. 1. 40-foot-high bank building at Bay and Queen Sts; 2. An office building of 29 to 31 storeys at Bay and Richmond. 3. Next to the bank another office of 21 to 23 floors. 4. An arcade no more than 10 storeys tall containing night-clubs restaurants and shops. 5. 35-storey convention hotel. Source: Toronto Public Library
Across the street, there were some empty storefronts and vacant lots. For the shops that remained, there were ‘expropriation sale’ signs. By the next year, most of the block was razed to the ground and replaced by a level surface of sod and sidewalk.
Queen Street Demolition, 1965. Source: Globe and Mail Archives
Queen Street West site, 1968. Source: Toronto Public Library.
Aerial image of Queen Street West, 1969. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In 1968, a mini-saga began in who would receive the rights to redevelop the property, which council was to rent out to the winning developer for 99 years. In April 1968, City Council approved a proposal which would see Third Generation Realty Limited build a $50-million hotel-convention centre on the three-and-a-half acre property. However, the Finance Commissioner determined Third Generation did not have the financial proof to back its proposal. In July, Council voted again, this time approving a $34-million scheme by Inn on the Park-Four Seasons, the other bidder in the April vote. During the event, an alderman was even accused of accepting a bribe, which he denied. In 1969, construction began on the 43-storey, 1,400-room hotel, which would become the Four Seasons-Sheraton Hotel. John B. Parkin Associates, who worked on City Hall, designed the complex.
Four Seasons Hotel Construction, 1969. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.
Excavation for Sheraton Centre, Queen west of Bay looking south, 1972. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Site of the Sheraton Four Seasons, 1970s. Source: Toronto Public Library.
Welcome to the Sheraton-Four Seasons Hotel
In 1972, the Sheraton-Four Seasons Hotel opened (the ‘Four Seasons’ would be dropped in 1976 as the hotel pulled out of the venture), the culmination of a 15-year saga to renew the Queen Street West strip across Toronto’s new municipal hub. Carrying the memorable street address ‘123 Queen West’, it was the second largest hotel in Toronto at the time of opening behind only the iconic Royal York Hotel (it was surpassed by the Chelsea Delta which opened only a few years later).
Four Season Sheraton Hotel Opening, 1972. Source: Toronto Star Archives
Conforming with the by-law from a decade earlier, the main hotel tower is situated off to the side of the city hall and square towards York Street, offering an unobstructed vista. The eastern side of the block saw the erection of a two-storey TD bank branch and the Queen-Bay Centre, consisting of the 25-storey Thomson Building and the Munich Re Centre, opening in 1972 and 1973 respectively. The latter building opened on the site of the demolished Temple Building, whose fragments are found at the Guild Inn Park.
In 2022, at fifty years old, the Sheraton Centre is a unique modernist, Brutalist construction. Its central area forms an atrium of waterfall gardens designed by J. Austin Floyd, the famed landscape architect who also left his footprint at the famed yet now lost Inn on the Park hotel at Leslie Street and Eglinton Avenue.
View of south side of Queen Street West from Bay Street, 1983. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
On the Queen Street mega-hotel, architect Michael McLelland wrote how “metropolitan structures like the Sheraton Centre are an integral part of the downtown morphology”. Its views of the complex across the street, which was the catalyst of its construction, are unparalleled in Toronto.
View from the Thomson Building, 1981. Source: Toronto Public Library
The Sheraton Centre and Toronto City Hall are fine examples of Toronto as a city made and re-made. They mark the ‘creative destruction’ of the post-war years. The south side of Queen Street between Bay and York was an interesting mix of establishments, many with varying stories and origins. The condemning of the strip as a ‘commercial slum’ and its subsequent replacement offers a complicated takeaway. On the one hand, the physical erasure has understandably hidden those histories from collective consciousness; on the other, the emergence of the Sheraton Centre has offered Toronto a marvel in itself. For better or worse, Toronto was growing up after World War II — in area, age, building heights, and architectural styles. The construction of the Sheraton Centre was in itself a microcosm of this period of transformation — and the representative of the expendability of centrally-located, culturally- and socially-colourful sectors like this one.
Note: This article is the first piece in a two-part series. The second article can be found here.
When Toronto’s New City Hall and Square opened in 1965, there was a problem. While Ontario’s Capital was looking to move into a new era, the commercial strip across the new civic centre did not fit into those plans for modernization.
“Redevelopment Area” or “Commercial Slum”?
In 1958, Toronto was in the midst of an international design competition to construct a new city hall and square. The winning entry had not yet been chosen, but the jury — a panel of architects and town planners — had a particular recommendation. For the new landmark to be better situated, Toronto needed to redevelop the downtown area all around the site to better complement it, including the street directly opposing the civic centre. They proposed:
“City action to replace the unworthy buildings on Queen St., between Bay and York Sts., with a continuous facade, not over 90 feet high, with an open arcade under the building for the whole length.”
The Globe and Mail, May 15, 1958
The Globe and Mail agreed with the report of the jurors, citing “it would be a disgrace to leave a stick of it standing as a backdrop to the expensive – and, we hope, beautiful – Civic Square.”
Site of Toronto City Hall, 1957. Source: City of Toronto Archives
In September, Toronto Planning Board was instructed by the Board of Control to make proposals on the Queen St. frontage. The board recommended the city buy the site and then sell or lease it to a developer. The Globe and Mail also called the south side “a hodge-podge of small, old buildings in various states of repair” and the shops “remain as reminders of that former area, bearing little relation to present surroundings.” The land was divided into separately owned lots and it was estimated $7,000,000 would be needed to buy them.
On October 27, 1958, the city passed a bylaw formally calling the strip a ‘redevelopment area’ and “giving the city expropriation powers over all but one of the properties.” The Toronto Daily Star was blunter in its characterization and advocacy of the fate of Queen Street West:
“Nearly everyone agrees that our handsome new city hall – when and if it is built – should not have to tolerate a commercial slum in front of it. And Queen St. between York and Bay is a tawdry hodge-podge”
Toronto Daily Star, October 31, 1958
Aerial Image of Queen Street West, York to Bay Streets, 1959. Source: City of Toronto Archives
The Daily Star and its editorial page in particular were very aggressive in their advocacy. It quite frequently enployed the phrase ‘commercial slum’ in the 1960s when reporting about the state of the site, including a December 1962 ‘Special Report’ boldly entitled “Our New City Hall Will Face a SLUM”:
“The rising towers of the new city hall look across Queen St. W. to a shabby vista of beer parlors, pawnshops, second-hand stores, a closed-down burlesque house.”
Toronto Daily Star, December 29, 1962
Still, the conservative outlet was interestingly weary of using public power to transfer property from private hands to private hands, i.e. the government moving shops from smaller, independent owners to larger, independent developers.
Whether the Queen Street row was euphemized as a ‘redevelopment area’ or disparaged as a ‘commercial slum’, urban renewal and slum clearance were certainly in the psyches and goals of governments of all levels in Canada and the United States of America for several decades in the 20th century. For Toronto, several lower-class neighbourhoods with ‘uneconomic uses’ were identified as requiring clearance and renewal. Regent Park became the first social housing project in Canada in 1947. The southern half of The Ward itself was voted to be expropriated in 1946 for the new city hall and square project, an area centred around Elizabeth Street once known as the first Chinatown in Toronto; the dense “slum” as a whole had calls to be rebuilt going back to the 1910s.
Toronto’s Vanishing China Town, 1957. Source: Globe and Mail Archives
At work was the need to also rejuvenate Toronto’s historic downtown retail districts. Historian Daniel Ross wrote the city created its “pro-development Plan for Downtown Toronto” in 1963 with Yonge Street as a central part. After World War II, the rise of the automobile and urban sprawl impacted the central core, “emptying out” of its historical commercial districts as the suburbs developed their own retail and residential nexuses. A large part of the downtown plan was the Timothy Eaton Company’s Project Viking. First conceived in 1958, it was an endeavour which would reimagine the commercial empire’s ageing downtown holdings of mainly early 20th century warehouses as a post-war shopping centre. The project would become The Eaton Centre.
Eaton Centre Redevelopment Site, 1967. Source: Toronto Public Library
The Queen Street West Strip in History
In the early 20th century, the near three hundred-metre stretch of Queen between Bay and York Streets was characterized by hotels, restaurants, second-hand goods shops, barbers, butchers, jewelers, pawnbrokers, billiard shops, grocers, and fruit shops. Located on the southern edge of The Ward, a working-class immigrant enclave in the heart of Toronto, it also had East European Jewish and East Asian owned and ran-enterprises, such as restaurants, shops, and clubs.
Might’s Greater Toronto City Directory, 1903 Source: Toronto Public LibraryGoad’s Fire Insurance Map, 1913. Source: Goad’s Toronto
Queen Street West, south side, looking east from York Street, 1926. Source: City of Toronto Archives
First, the 1920 Toronto City Directory offers an interesting snapshot of the prominence and variety of Chinese businesses and organizations on the street. In this small zone, there were six Chinese restaurants (sadly all un-named as per the style of the directories in this period) and two tea-related businesses. Two organizations were on the street: The Chinese National League and The Chinese Reform Association. There was also a gentleman’s furnishings shop and possibly a photography shop. Yet Chong Lung Co. is referenced at 117 Queen, although it is unclear what type of dealings it entailed.
Might’s Greater Toronto City Directory, 1920. Source: Toronto Public Library
105 Queen Street West was a curious address in 1926. The city directory for the year divides the building into 105 — Tighe Lee, billiards — and 105 1/2 — Chinese National League. A picture from the year shows a sign above the door possibly reading “Pool Room”. The sign above that is written in Chinese with an illegible English caption underneath, roughly translating to “Kuomintang Office” or “Republic of Taiwan Political Party”. The smaller third sign on the third floor roughly translated to “World Mirror”, an arts society set up by the Kuomintang.
105 Queen Street West, 1926. Source: City of Toronto ArchivesMight’s Greater Toronto City Directory, 1926. Source: Toronto Public Library
113 Queen Street West was an intriguing case in that at different points it hosted a Chinese restaurant, the Jewish Daily Eagle, and the Union Ticket Office. In the 1910s, the address was listed in the city directories as hosting a Louis Gurofsky, Joseph Gurofsky, and Samuel Gurofsky at differing times. They were also characterized as ‘insurance agents’. By the 1920s, it was listed as The Union Ticket Office — a steamship ticket business.
The Union Ticket Office, 1920. Source: Ontario Jewish Archives
Steamship ticket agents were common professions for Jewish-Torontonians and there were several competing businesses in The Ward. The enterprises played a role in the immigration process for Jews abroad. Historian Jack Lipinsky wrote “steamship agents, as their name indicates, originally concentrated on issuing boat and train ticks, mostly to immigrants.” Agents were landsmanschaften and “remittance agents” who worked with the Jewish Immigration Aid Services to bring Jews to Toronto. Lipinski notes that some agents were “dishonest” and defrauded prospective immigrants, including a David Gurofsky. It is unclear if this is the same or related Gurofsky(s) who operated at 113 Queen Street, but the damage done to the industry by him was enormous. The director of Canada’s Immigration Branch, Frederick Charles Blair, was “permanently suspicious” of the Jewish community because of Gurofsky’s dealings, a development which would later impact fleeing European Jews in the 1930s and 1940s.
Gurofsky’s Shipping Office, 1920. Source: Toronto Star Archives
The Gurofsky office seemed to play roles in the First World War. In 1916, the steamship office was responsible for enlisting “Hebrews”. The Globe reported it expected “at least fifty men” in Toronto to sign up for the great war and that over 1,100 had already joined across Canada. In 1917, Louis Gurofsky, at the delegation of the Russian consul, was tasked with “rounding up” prominent Russian Torontonians to return to their home country at the request of the new Russian Provisional Government who were “honeycombing” for “former friends — revolutionists and socialists” who had left Russia. Finally, The Daily Star reported in July 1917, a Mischa Bedler of 113 Queen Street West, a 24-year-old Jewish inventor handed over “a very valuable discovery in wireless telegraphy” to the Canadian government and was promoted to a lieutenant and instructor in the Royal Flying Corps.
Canadian Foreign Exchange Corporation, 1920. Source: Globe and Mail Archives
Some of the businesses were mainstays on Queen Street for much of the 20th century. Simon Simonsky (occasionally spelt ‘Simonski’), a pawnbroker, was in business since at least the 1890s, settling at 121 Queen and then 107 Queen, where he would stay for at least sixty years. Historian Ellen Scheinberg wrote the family may have been peddlers originally: wandering street salesmen pushing carts of goods. A common professional trajectory of peddlers was to raise enough capital to open a shop, which Simonsky seemed to accomplish. According to a 1954 obituary for Mrs Annie Simonsky, the Simonskys were a “family long active in Jewish communal circles in Toronto”. By 1964, with forced closure looming, the shop moved to 115 York Street.
S. Simonsky and Henry & Co, 1964. Source: Toronto Public Library
Harry Stein, a Russian watchmaker, landed on the Queen Street strip in 1932 at a shop at 63 Queen named Henry & Co (in the city directories, it was originally listed as ‘Harry Stein, jeweler’; the business also started as a watch repair shop on Yonge Street in 1909). In 1945, the jewelry business moved to 113 Queen — the former site of Gurofsky’s steamship ticket office. It later added other products and electronics to its offerings, most notably cameras, making it the first Henry’s, as we know it today. Henry’s later resurfaced at other locations, including 119 Church Street near Queen Street East in the 1970s. Henry’s announced in 2022 it would be leaving this location and a condominium is proposed to take its place.
Henry & Co’s 70th Year, 1979. Source: Toronto Star Archives
Palaces of Sin
Two cinemas also were huge presences on the Queen Street row. The Broadway Theatre at 75 Queen Street West was on the strip since 1919, opening as the Globe Theatre. Historian Doug Taylor wrote the theatre started playing “‘Girlie Shows’ as well as vaudeville and B-movies”. In the 1930s, it was briefly the Roxy and changed to its final name in 1937. In 1935, the manager of Broadway was found murdered in his office; the killing was never solved.
Broadway Theatre, 75 Queen Street West, documenting the vertical over-hanging neon sign and the neon marquee, and the White’s Hotel, east of it, 1933. The theatre marquee advertises the movie “Too Hot For Paris.” The view is looking south-east, showing the south side of Queen Street West. Source: City of Toronto Archives
71-79 Queen Street West, showing Union House, Broadway Theatre, and Harry’s Men’s Shop, 1965. Source: City of Toronto Archives
The Casino Theatre at 87 Queen Street West was an “infamous” burlesque house built in 1936, according to Taylor. He pointedly described the movie house: “Throughout the theatre history of Toronto, other than perhaps the Victory Theatre on Spadina, there is no entertainment venue that has elicited as much praise, raunchy stories, condemnation and newspaper coverage as the infamous Casino Theatre.”
The theatre had reputable architects, Kaplan and Sprachman, who were famed for many of Toronto’s beautiful art deco theatres. The owners of The Casino partnered with the owner of the neighbouring Broadway to open the venture. But a foul reputation followed the Casino itself, which “was famous for its raunchy comedians and risqué burlesque” and “decent citizens” called a “sin palace”. In 1961, the Casino was renamed ‘the Festival Theatre’ as a failed attempt to clean up its image. In the final year of its existence, the theatre was playing a Russian Film Festival, perhaps as a means to that end.
Casino Theatre, 87 Queen Street West, documenting the vertical over-hanging neon sign and the neon marquee, 1930s. The theatre marquee advertises the Casino Follies featuring “Beautiful Girls.” The view is looking south-west, showing the south side of Queen Street West. Source: City of Toronto Archives
89 Queen Street West, showing Festival Theatre, 1965. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Two hotels — the bar beer parlours referenced by the Star – were (in)famous on the south side of Queen. The Municipal Hotel stood at 67 Queen Street West since at least the late 1890s. The Municipal seemed to have a rowdy reputation throughout its history with fights, arrests, and fires plaguing its life. In 1946, Toronto Police prepared a report on hotels to send to the Ontario Liquor Board and had this to say about the hotel:
“Municipal Hotel, 67 Queen St. W.:
‘The chief complaint against this hotel is thefts from drunks who are permitted to become inebriated on the premises. It is also a rendezvous for prostitutes, and a number of girls have been removed from the premises by the police. This hotel is poorly managed and there is much room for improvement.'”
The Globe and Mail, February 4, 1946
Hotel Municipal at 67 Queen Street West with the City Grill adjacent, 1945. Source: City of Toronto Archives
Several doors down, at 71 Queen Street West, there were several versions of a hotel at this location since the early 1900s: the Aberdeen Hotel, Lennon’s Hotel, the White’s Hotel, and finally the Union Hotel/House. The Union had a similar seedy reputation to the Municipal. The 1946 report wrote:
“Union Hotel, 71 Queen St. W.:
‘This place appears nothing more than a pickup place for prostitutes, and it is amazing to find how many girls in the downtown area will give their address as the Union Hotel. Plainclothesmen have removed many girls from the premises, and only recently they arrested two teen-agers who had stayed at this hotel three nights with different men each night. A number of girls arrested in this hotel were found to have venereal disease. Improvement by the management in regard to the conduct of this hotel is long overdue.'”
The Globe and Mail, February 4, 1946
The Union Hotel, 1945. The sign of the women’s entrance has been removed. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
Interestingly, The Union and Municipal played notable roles in the history of Toronto’s gay community after World War II. Of the 1950s and 1960s, historian Christine Sismondo wrote the bar rooms of both hotels became places where the gay and lesbian communities were patrons, so much that the area around Queen and Bay was known to the groups for “cruising” as “The Corners” or “Queer Street”. The Municipal in particular was “known for its cheap beer by the glass and transient clientele” in this period and “received far more surveillance” than other establishments along higher class lines. It was known to be a “rough” bar, patronized by hustlers and ex-convicts.
Toronto City Directory, 1957. Toronto Public Library
Given this overall history and characterization, it is easily conceivable why the Queen Street frontage held such little value for Toronto decision-makers. Fire, assault, murder, sex, and more all found homes on the street. The shops and professions themselves were of inconsequential business value, the two theatres were ‘sinful’, and the hotels were cheap establishments with questionable management and clientele. Even including the impressively designed Broadway Theatre, the built form of the street was not of any notable architectural significance. Taken together, the row was simply expendable for a city looking for “progress”.
Frederick Street and Adelaide Street, 2022. Source: Google Maps.
What’s the most colonial representation of colonial Toronto in Toronto? It might be a street marker built into the corner of a George Brown College buiding at Frederick Street and Adelaide Street East.
But the marker itself doesn’t read Frederick and Adelaide; rather, it reads Frederick and Duke. Frederick is still Frederick, but Duke doesn’t exist anyore.
The laughable part of this intersection is it was at one point named entirely for the same guy: Prince Frederick, The Duke of York of Great Britain.
At the time Duke and Frederick were named, the settlement containing them was also named for Duke Frederick: The Town of York. The Duke never visited the town named for him or likely had any direct role in its formation or growth. The British locales contained in his title also got a street name further west of the town – York Street. The Duke was also the son of KingGeorge, the reigning monarch at the time of the town’s founding, who had at least two other street names – King and George – named directly and indirectly for him.
1797 Smith Plan for the enlargement of York. Source: Old Toronto Maps
And even more, nearly every street in early York was named by another Brit in charge of this colony: John Graves Simcoe, who didn’t like the indigenous name for the region — Tkaronto. Instead, when setting up his new town and the first few streets in it, he felt it more worthy honouring a man from his home country who scored a victory in his own continent as well as after other members of the British nobility and royalty.
The Town of York would revert to its indigenous name, albeit with an English spelling – Toronto. Duke Street would merge with and take on the name of the nearby rerouted Adelaide Street, named for another royal who likely didn’t have any contributions to the city either.
As a layered bonus, this wasn’t even the first time Duke Street was involved in a name change. The original Duke Street was today’s King Street. The original King Street was Palace Street, today’s Front Street. The Duke Street before this northern re-shifting was Duchess Street, named for the Duke’s royal counterpart. Duchess would move up a street too. It also merged with and took on the name of nearby Richmond Street. The streets of the original blocks of Toronto clearly had a colonial theme.
But today, the marker at Frederick and Adelaide Street still reads Frederick and Duke, still honouring the same guy.
In the early 1900s, St. John’s Ward or familiarly just ‘The Ward’ was a dense, immigrant enclave in the central core of the City of Toronto. The neighbourhood was roughly bound by Queen Street, College Street, Yonge Street, and University Avenue, and housed some of the city’s first Black, Jewish, Chinese, Irish, and Italian colonies. Two early 20th-century rooftop photos provide interesting overhead views of the physical makeup of the district.
The first rooftop view was taken in 1920 by iconic Toronto photographer William James from the top of the Alexandra Palace Apartments, formerly located at 184 University Avenue opposite the terminus of Gerrard Street West on the edge of The Ward.
Looking southeast from University Avenue, 1920. Source: City of Toronto Archives. Annotations by Bob Georgiou.
There was another photograph also taken by James from the Alexandra Apartments, this one dated to “circa 1920”. Although generally quite similar, noticeable differences exist between this and the 1920 photo, most visibly that the latter is a much broader view of the same general area of The Ward.
Looking southeast from University Avenue, c 1920. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
While the date of the zoomed-in image is approximate, it almost certainly precedes 1920. The main differences between this and the 1920 photo is the lack of the Prest-O-Lite Factory (built 1917) and the northernmost Eaton’s factories (also built 1917). The most important detail, however, is the Eaton’s Annex building, which appears under construction. The store opened in 1913, which likely dates the image to 1912 or 1913.
The Alexandra Palace Apartments (also simply called the ‘Alexandra Apartments’, ‘The Alexandra Palace’, or ‘The Palace’) was a 7-storey, luxury apartment building constructed in 1904 during Toronto’s first apartment building boom, meaning it was one of the first of its kind in the city. The architect was the prolific George W. Gouinlock, who also designed the Temple Building. Famous residents included tycoon E.P. Taylor and Ontario Hydro founder Sir Adam Beck (the old Ontario Hydro Headquarters was directly north of the apartment). It is said that residents moved into the Palace to retire.
Alexandra Palace Apartments, No. 184-188 University Avenue (erected 1909), 1919. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
In the 1920s, the Palace went from apartment house to apartment hotel with a dining room already in its offerings. In the 1940s, the building was slated to become a nurses’ residence for Sick Children’s Hospital. By the 1950s, the building ceased to be a residence and was heavily remodelled to be a modern office building, losing much of its original exterior features. In 1968, the Alexandra Apartments building was demolished.
Postcard of The Alexandra, Queen’s Park Avenue, Toronto, Canada’s Finest Apartment House, 1910. Source: Toronto Public Library.
Postcard views of the Alexandra Palace, 1910s. Credit: Chuckman’s Photos.
Alexandra Apartments, University Avenue, west side, between Elm & Orde Streets, 1954. Source: Toronto Public Library.
The second rooftop photograph comes from the top of an Eaton’s factory tower once located adjacent to the Church of the Holy Trinity. Like the Alexandra Apartments picture, it was taken by William James. It is dated “circa 1910.”
The view is looking northwesterly over The Ward and has several common landmarks with the 1920 Alexandra Apartments image, such as Toronto House of Industry, the Hester How School, and the Grace Church. In the foreground along Bay Street (at the time called Terauley Street) and Dundas Street (Agnes Street) are the Terauley Street Synagogue, the Lyric Yiddish Theatre, and Police Station #2 (which appears to have officers in its yard). As with The Palace image, there are also the tightly packed streets of tiny residences, many undoubtedly housing men and women who were employed by Eaton’s. Finally, the distinctive rooflines of Queen’s Park and Toronto General Hospital loom far in the distance (with the Alexandra Apartments somewhere nearby).
Looking north from top of Eaton’s factory, c 1910. Source: City of Toronto Archives. Annotations by Bob Georgiou.
The Eaton’s factory itself where James captured the image was a 12-storey structure located adjacent to the Church of The Holy Trinity. It was built around 1910 in a period when the Eaton’s footprint in the area expanded from a single store at 190 Yonge Street in 1883 to encompass at least half the block between Yonge, Bay, Queen and Dundas Streets by 1920. The factory was demolished in the 1970s when other Eaton’s factories and warehouses were razed in part to make way for the Eaton Centre (The Eaton’s Annex store referenced earlier was destroyed by fire in 1977).
T. Eaton Company factory from Louisa Street, 1910. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
The Eaton’s store, the Eaton’s Annex, mail order facilities and factories in Toronto, at Yonge and Queen Streets, in 1920. Source: Wikimedia Commons.
The Eaton’s image is dated “circa 1910”, which is likely accurate as it is very comparable to the “circa 1920, but likely 1912-3” Alexandra Apartments photo. The Prest-O-Lite factory does not appear in the image, thus 1910-1917 is a fair timeframe.
T. Eaton factory from Louisa Street, c 1920. Note the addition of the north tower (1920). Source: City of Toronto Archives.
Today, if the two William James rooftop photos were recreated, they would be taken from Mount Sanai Hospital and the Bell Trinity Square office building, respectively. Ironically, the Alexandra Apartments and the Eaton’s factory were both constructed and demolished in similar periods: the 1900s to 1910s and 1960s to 1970s. The dwellings, houses of worship, and businesses of The Ward also largely disappeared by the 1950s as lands were expropriated for various projects. The district continued to change since then until the present-day, making these century-old views a far cry to today’s world.
A modern view of the area formerly known as The Ward, 2021. The sites of The Alexandra Apartments and Eaton’s factory are circled. Source: Google Maps.
Coffee houses are ubiquitous places in Toronto. Tim Horton’s, McCafes, Starbucks, Aroma Espresso Bars, and independent coffee shops seemingly mark every block in its diverse neighbourhoods. While Toronto is in an exciting era of artisanal coffee shops, the locales of the 19th century paint a much different picture in the drink’s social consumption.
Toronto’s First “Coffee Houses”
The first establishment in Toronto to call itself a coffee house was the “Toronto Coffee House”. It was opened in 1801 by William Cooper on the east side of Jarvis Street between King Street and Yonge Street near today’s St. Lawrence Market. Despite the name, historian Chris Bateman writes Cooper’s two-storey establishment was more a tavern than a café, which served liquor, ale, and some food. The name was meant to inspire respectability, drawing on the influence of similarly-named establishments in Great Britain. It also hosted an inn and general store. The coffee house was sold five years after it opened.
In the 1830s, “The (New) British Coffee House” opened in the Chewitt Building at the southeast corner of King Street and York Street. Completed in 1835, the structure was considered Toronto’s first office block. Its ground floor had the Coffee House, which was rented by a Mr. Keating and followed the British tradition in offering a meeting place for influential people. Again, this “Coffee House” likely resembled an establishment serving ale in the British way more than the modern conceptualization of an espresso bar type establishment.
Chewitt Building, 1835. Source: Toronto Public Library.
In the 1837 directory, the British Coffee House was listed as a “Principal Hotel” as owned by John Cotter. John Grantham’s “Old British Coffee-House” on Front Street was also listed in the category. According to John Ross Robertson, The British Coffee House was closed in 1837 following its role in the meeting of individuals of the rebellion of that year and then seized by the government and used as barracks. By 1843, the Coffee House was listed as a boarding house. By 1850, it had the added moniker of “Club House”, which Robertson stated later developed into today’s “Toronto Club”. The building was torn down for the luxurious Rossin House Hotel in 1862; an office block stands in both their places today.
The City of Toronto and the Home District commercial directory and register with almanack and calendar for 1837. Source: Toronto Public Library.
“Substitutes to Drinking Saloons”
By the mid-19th century, coffee was a known and consumed commodity, albeit there was more to be learned. There seemed to have been some inconsistencies on how the drink was prepared, and apparently a farmer in Scarboro was trying to grow its own specimen of coffee which was conducive to the Canadian climate.
“Pekin Tea Market”, The Globe, November 8, 1858. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.
“Reasons Why Coffee Is So Seldom Well Made”, The Globe, March 20, 1851. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.
But finding coffee in a social setting seemed to have been a rare occurrence. In 1860, a reader of The Globe — an Alexander Somerville — lamented the lack of places for a stranger to find a cup of coffee for a fair price. He found “but one place where a passing stranger can obtain small refreshments, such as one or two cups of coffee at a fair price, at any hour in the day.” This was in Montreal for six-pence. Somerville called on the ‘Sons of Temperance’ to make this happen.
In the late 1870s, the temperance movement used the caffeinated beverage to steer people – mostly men – away from the evils of alcohol. It employed eateries to do so. One of the first coffee houses to open with this purpose in January 1878 was the Albert Street Coffee Room. It was based on the ‘coffee taverns’ and ‘coffee palaces’ established in London and other large global cities.
Albert Coffee Rooms in the City Directory 1879. Source: Toronto Public Library
The Albert Coffee Room at 11-13 Albert Street opened in January 1878, and was funded by social reformer and future Toronto mayor W.H. Howland. It was described as “plainly though nicely fitted up” and containing “the bar, or public room, the billiard room, and the reading room”. All were welcome in the public room where coffee, tea, cocoa, or milk were served “with sandwiches, buns, etc, at certain low yet remunerative prices”. Irish stew was a noted dish too. The other two rooms operated with a small fee and subscription. Profane language and intoxicating liquors were forbidden, although smoking was allowed. Its existence was short-lived, however; by 1881, the Albert Coffee Room closed for unknown reasons.
“Our Coffee Room” at 115-117 York Street at Boulton Street (now Pearl Street) opened in 1879. Its owner was S G Noblett. The establishment was described by a visitor as having a billiard table on the ground floor, all the daily city newspapers downstairs, and a large reading room with a valuable collection of books upstairs. All services are free for visitors, except for the billiard table which is available for “the usual price”. The visitor also boasted the “convenience of being able at any moment to supply one with a cup of hot tea or coffee alone for three cents, or with a buttered roll for five cents”.
Toronto directory for 1879. This was the first year coffee houses were listed in directories. Source: Toronto Public Library.
Toronto directory for 1881. A number of other coffee houses sprang up in Toronto after the success of Our Coffee Room, although possibly not affiliated with the temperance movement. Source: Toronto Public Library.
In the following years, a number of changes came to Our Coffee Room. In 1883, it took on the name of its proprietor and seemingly upgraded from a coffee room to a coffee house. Before it closed in 1886, it was listed as a eating house, abandoning the caffeinated drink altogether in its name.
Toronto directory for 1883. Source: Toronto Public Library.
The impact of these two coffee houses were reported by 1879. In a Globe article highlighting the “Sights of Toronto”, Temperance Coffee-Houses were presented as flourishing establishments with the goals of providing “places of entertainment and substitutes for drinking saloons, where the evil associations of the saloons are absent, and where….coffee and other mild drinks, with lunches ma be obtained with moderate prices”. Both “Albert Street Coffee Room” and “Our Coffee Rooms” were named.
Around this time, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union also operated a coffee house beginning in 1877 on Queen Street West near the Occident Hall at Bathurst Street. The Globe noted that the venture depleted the treasury, and by 1880 it was sold. Later in the decade, the Temperance Union had talks of resurrecting the idea, but it is unclear if it came to fruition.
The Toronto Coffee House Association
The impetus behind the Toronto Coffee House Association may have started in December 1878 meeting of the “Coffee House Committee”. It was held at Shaftesbury Hall on Queen Street at James Street, which was the headquarters of the Young Men’s Christian Association from 1873 to 1887. The committee resolved to make open two coffee houses: one in St. John’s Ward arranged by Howland and others, and another near St. Lawrence Market to accommodate farmers and others in the neighbourhood.
In 1881, the temperance movement formally organized a scheme of coffee houses. In May, there was a “well-attended meeting of parties interested in the prevention and suppression of intemperance” at Shaftesbury Hall. The Committee on Coffee-Houses recommended the formation of a joint stock company and 5,000 shares be issued at once at one dollar per share. The object of the company was “to provide public houses of refreshment and entertainment without intoxicating drink.” The committee highlighted that there were 196 licensed taverns and unknown number of unlicensed places that provided the only places of rest and refreshment. It also targeted working populations, particular men employed in the railways, port, and streetcars, and a separate entrance and room for women. The following passage from The Globe summarizes this philanthropic yet investable endeavour:
“We cannot close our report without stating that, while we wish to launch this Company entirely upoin its merits as a business enterprise, our aim is to benefit the city and promote the cause of temperance, and that we desire he help of all who have at heart the true welfare of our citizens in this good work.”
“Suppression of Intemperance – Meeting in Shaftesbury Hall Yesterday Afternoon – Report on Coffee Houses,” The Globe, May 17, 1881
The organization was inspired by coffee houses in Liverpool run by the British Workman Public House Company, which in the year prior were said to have “a decrease of 1500 in cases of drunkenness.” The goals were to have a collection of strategically located coffee houses targeted towards working men. The capital of the Company was 40 thousand pounds divided in one pound shares. It was reportedly paying out at 14 per cent.
In the fall of 1881, the Toronto Coffee House Association took further steps to organize. It opened a booth at the Toronto Industrial Exhibition where it sold tea, coffee, and other temperance drinks and plain refreshments. It also met to elect a permanent board and decide the location of the coffee houses. They would be located “at the Market-square, another at the corner of Bay and Front streets, and the third in the vicinity of Brock-street.” A meeting of the Society for the Prevent and Suppression of Intolerance urged the participation of society members, particularly in canvassing new members and getting subscriptions. It was also reported that the Coffee House Association had done a number of research into coffee houses in Britain and United States, and interestingly, many people who had taken stock in the organization has never engaged in the temperance cause before.
On November 15, 1881, the first annual meeting of the Toronto Coffee House Association was held at the Confederation Life Association Building. Lieutenant Governor Gzowski served as Chairman for the meeting and was also elected President of the Board of Directors (the Association was operating on a Provisional Board prior to the meeting). It was reported the success of the Liverpool coffee house scheme and that the event at the Exhibition grounds showed that the group could sell a cup of coffee and sandwich for five cents and make a profit.
“Meetings to be Held”, The Globe, November 4, 1881. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.
St. Lawrence and Shaftesbury Coffee Houses
In February 1882, the Toronto Coffee House Association’s inaugurated its first coffee house, the St. Lawrence Coffee House. It was located in the former Small’s Hotel on Jarvis Street at East Market Square. By year’s end, the St. Lawrence Coffee House moved from Jarvis Street to 118 King Street East next to St. James Cathedral, which was a better location.
“Coffee House Association – Inauguration of the St. Lawrence Coffee House – A Walk Through The Building” The Globe, February 17, 1882. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.The first two locations of the St. Lawrence Coffee House in Goad’s Insurance Plan of the City of Toronto, 1889. Source: Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto.
The next location to open was across the street from Shaftesbury Hall itself at 23 Queen Street West at James Street. Following the initial plans for coffee house locations, it was at the southern edge of St. John’s Ward, also known as just The Ward – a dense, immigrant enclave, looked upon unfavorably during its time by Toronto’s mainstream establishment for its slum conditions and immoral happenings. Like the St. Lawrence Coffee House at 118 King Street, its capacity was 200 patrons. Interestingly, in March 1889, a man fell through Shaftesbury Coffee House’s coal shoot and successfully sued the Toronto Coffee House Association.
Shaftesbury Hall. Source: Canadian Illustrated News, November 23, 1872. The locations of the Shaftesbury Coffee House, Shaftesbury Hall, and Albert Coffee Room (closed 1881) in Goad’s Insurance Plan of the City of Toronto, 1889. Source: Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto.
In the first annual meeting of the Toronto Coffee House Association, both coffee houses were reported philanthropical and financial successes in their first year. At the second annual meeting of the organization, it was reported that receipts from the year were almost three times as large as the previous year — a total net profit of $1,131.22.
Temperance journals regularly highlighted the successes of the Toronto Coffee House Association. Source: The Coffee Public-House News and Temperance Hotel Journal, October 1, 1886.
In August 1895, The Globe toured through the King Street coffee house, which by 1893 moved from 118 King Street East to a building fronted at 78-80 King Street East and the adjoined 15 Court Street behind it. No reason was given for the move, although the increase in floor space is a possibility. The kitchen, broiling room, and bakery were located on the top floor. On the ground level is the lunch counter and a large, bright and airy general dining hall, where one could get a full-course meal of “two kinds of soup, fish, or one of two meats, with potatoes and vegetables, dessert pudding or pie, coffee, tea or milk” for 20 cents (and an “extra selection” for ten cents more. The next floor was the ladies and gentlemen’s dining room and a large waiting-room. A large lavatory for women flanked the waiting-room with the lower level housing the men’s lavatory. The Globe described the entire establishment as clean and well-ventilated.
Citizens of Toronto can with every confidence their friends to either Shaftesbury Coffee House, 23 Queen Street West; or to the St. Lawrence Coffee House, 78-80 King stret east, and have no fear of having to apologize for any dish served. They are equal to any of this class to be found on the continent. Visitors to the fair should make a note of where these two places are to be found.”
“The Toronto Coffee House Association” The Globe, August 31, 1895.
King St west from Church St, 1927. 78-80 King Street East was just out of the frame on the right side in the Wellington Buildings. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
This description of the St. Lawrence Coffee House is notable for the absence of any reference of the temperance. The purpose seems to promote the establishment as a tourist places for the visitors of The Canadian National Exhibition. Even though it refers to the Coffee House Association’s “Famous Coffee”, the menu likens it to a regular eating establishment.
“Coffee House Specials” The Evening Star, May 29, 1897. The Court Street location of the St. Lawrence Coffee House was the third site. Source: Toronto Star Archives.
There are other factoids that support the coffee house as in the same category as restaurants. In 1883, the city directories added “See Eating Houses” under the listings for Coffee Houses; in 1890s, coffee houses were not listed at all and enterprises were listed under “restaurants”. In 1886, The Globe ran an article which stated the main objective of coffee houses was not to provide cheap meals; rather, it was supposed to be an alternative to taverns without the temptation. It boldly asserted:
“They are eating houses, nothing more, nothing less. This is good so as as it goes, but this, we repeat, was not the great and chief idea dwelt upn, when these establishments were projected…
…If these establishments were simply private ventures, we should of course allow no criticisms of their merits or demerits in our columns.”
“Our Coffee Houses” The Globe, April 16, 1886.
By 1899, the Toronto Coffee House Association dissolved and sold the coffee houses. Although the circumstances of the dissolution and sale are scarce, the St. Lawrence Coffee House did not operate again. All three sites of the St. Lawrence location now house modern buildings. Shaftesbury Hall was demolished shortly after for shops which eventually became part of the Eaton’s store complex and later shopping mall. Interestingly, Shaftesbury Coffee House moved to 13-15 Richmond Street West in 1900, under Hayward & Co. Proprietors. It closed once more by 1908 for good.
The Canadian Temperance League
In 1890, several new coffee houses entered the scene alongside The Coffee House Association under the Canadian Temperance League banner, which organized two years before. One opened at Edward and Terauley (Bay) Streets, and was described as having a shop and four rooms. It was open 6am to 10pm Monday to Saturday and sold coffee for two cents and sandwiches for five cents.
In only a year, a new location was needed, possibly as the old one was inadequate in size. The Temperance League Coffee House Company opened another coffee house at Elm and Terauley Streets in 1891, which was aimed at ‘workingmen’. Like Shafesbury Hall, both coffee houses were The Ward – this time in the centre of the district. The scheme was similar to the Toronto Coffee House Association with stocks sold at five dollars a piece. The Temperance League Coffee House Association and Canadian Temperance League were connected in that members of the former had to be members of the latter organization. The Canadian Temperance League held events at the Elm Street coffee house, like a February 1893 concert and a June 1894 meeting supporting Mr. O.A. Howland’s candidature in South Toronto.
Temperance Coffee Houses on Teraulay (Bay) Street in the City directory 1893. Source: Toronto Public Library.
Locations of the Terauley (Bay) Street Coffee Houses in the Goad’s Insurance Plan of the City of Toronto, 1903. Source: Goad’s Atlas of the City of Toronto.
Locations of the Terauley (Bay) Street Coffee Houses by the Temperance League Coffee House Association and Canadian Temperance League.
“Workingmen’s Coffee House” The Globe, November 28, 1891. Source: Globe and Mail Archives.
The coffee houses looked to have been short-lived ventures, however. The Canadian Temperance League Coffee House at 76 Edward Street closed by 1894. The Toronto Coffee Association Coffee House at 55 Elm Street closed by 1895. The building went on to house Dr. John G.C. Adams, the father of modern public dentistry from 1897-1899.
55 Elm Street, 2021. Source: Google Maps.
The end of temperance coffee houses
The final years of the 1890s saw some additional calls for an alternative to liquor taverns, which were backed by Bishop Sullivan, rector of St. James Cathedral. The bishop passed away in early 1899, however, and nothing ever came of the new scheme. There were even reports to open new coffee houses in first decade of the 1900s.
Although the temperance movement continued into the 20th century and of course influencing the push for prohibition in Toronto, the heyday of coffee houses of the 1880s and 1890s had passed. It is unclear whether the coffee houses of the Toronto Coffee House Assocition and Canadian Temperance League actually succeeded in their philanthropic goal of providing the alternative to saloons. Like the “Coffee Houses” of the first half of 19th century in Toronto, they were borrowed, respected ideas taken from elsewhere, with the added bourgeois goal of turning a profit for its stock-holders. All with a cup of coffee that was never entirely the focus.
For a map of Toronto’s 19th Century Coffee Houses, click here.
Tommy Thompson Park and The Leslie Street Spit contain some of the most interesting and oddest landscapes in Toronto. They’ve been called an Urban Wilderness and an Accidental Wilderness. Exploring their history and geography, one can see why. They embody Toronto as a whole: the intriguing and sometimes unexpected intersection of nature and city.
Many Paths, Many Landscapes
First, there’s a careful distinction to be made of the two places. Tommy Thompson Park and the Leslie Street Spit (or the Leslie Spit or just The Spit) are used interchangeably by many people. The reality is one is located within the other. That is to say, the Leslie Spit is a geographic feature and Tommy Thompson Park is the recreational area housed in it.
The entrance of Tommy Thompson Park and the Leslie Spit is located at Unwin Street where it meets the bottom of Leslie Street. If travelling south from Lake Shore Boulevard by road, one is struck by how bizarre a stretch it is. A streetcar barn, a mail facility, a concrete plant, tool and equipment rental place, and most curiously, an allotment garden all make up the scene. At the same time, the Martin Goodman Trail also passes through the area, making bicycle traffic a natural thing for the Spit (the park’s car lot also has a BikeShare station.)
The Baselands just off the entrance is Tommy Thompson Park’s first landscape. This is a thicket of bushes, shrubs, and trees — and rubble. The red-osier dogwood offer some colour in the spring-time grey and brown.
One emerges from Baselands to meet with the Multi-Use Trail, a paved path used by walkers, runners, cyclists, and sometimes park staff vehicles. The trail runs the course of the Spit from the entrance to its most southern tip. If one doesn’t pass through pedestrian bridge nearly half-way through the 5-kilometre length, one can branch out to the north of the cell bays and pass through the Flats and Headlands. The lighthouse is a natural goal and following the multi-use trail to the end offers a great reward. But the side-trails are well worth it too.
The Spit splits into the three paths. Along with the Multi-Use path, there is a Nature Trail and Pedestrian Trail. If on foot, these quiet and more slower-paced alternatives allow one to take in the Spit in a truly unique way.
The Nature Trail on the north side of the main paved path hugs the north shore of the Spit. It offers views of the marina, embayments, and the great skyline of Toronto beyond them all along the way. Numbered trail markers show the way. It is also on the way to the Ecological Bird Research Centre, one of a few scientific and educational functions of the park.
The Pedestrian Trail runs south of the Multi-Use Trail. It offers clear blue lake views, along with views of Cell 1 where wildlife undoubtedly lives. The shores along this trail also show the most interesting debris.
A History of Many Names
The curious history of the Leslie Street Spit started in the late 1950’s and continued into the 1960s. It was designed to be a breakwater for Toronto harbour. For this reason, the official name for the Leslie Spit is the mouthful-ish “Outer Harbour East Headland”. By 1970, a 5-kilometre “arm” made of infill and construction materials extended into the water. The main road on this landform is now the Multi-Use trail. Over the next several decades, several “branches” would be made to jut out from this “spine”, creating endikements and bays. For this reason, the Leslie Spit is better labelled as a man-made peninsula rather than a naturally-occuring spit.
A pre-Leslie Spit eastern Toronto waterfront, 1950. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
“Harbor Headland Ahead Of Schedule” The Globe & Mail, Oct 3, 1968. Source: Toronto Public Library and Globe & Mail Archives.
“The big key to waterfront development”, The Globe & Mail, May 27, 1971. Source: Toronto Public Library and Globe & Mail Archives.
By the early 1970s, the anticipated port activity in Toronto’s waters never materialized. The East Headland became obsolete as a commercial project. As the decade progressed, a curious thing happened. Nature took over. Birds used the peninsula as migratory stop. The potential of the Spit as a recreational area, namely sailing and boating, also entered the conversation. So much so that the area was known as “The Aquatic Park”.
“New park: Do we want wall-to-wall boats?”, The Globe & Mail, Feb 4, 1977. Source: Toronto Public Library and Globe & Mail Archives.
In 1977, a client group consisting of Metro Toronto Regional Conservation Authority and Metro Toronto Park Commission members hired a consultant firm to report on the possibilities of the peninsula. Ideas included a sailing school, marine hotel, camp grounds, a hostel, and a wildlife and nature preserve. Curiously, the north shore of the Spit, already used by recreational boats, was not included in the report. The report put naturalists and recreationists at odds — a theme that continues today. In 1983, the Leslie Street Spit was named “Tommy Thompson Park”, after the longtime Toronto Parks Commissioner. The Toronto & Region Conservation Authority manages the parkland today.
The Leslie Street Spit, 1992. Source: City of Toronto Archives.
A common sight of The Leslie Spit is the piles of bricks, cement blocks, rebar, scrap metal, and more on its trails and on its shores. People have combined two of these elements — the rebar and bricks — to make some makeshift art installations.
It has been said that because the Spit is in a way akin to garbage dump, it is a valuable asset in that it literally is the “archaeology of Toronto”. Indeed, debris excavated to build the downtown subway lines is said to rest at the peninsula. Beyond that, is any of the rubble of the headland actually important?
One brick has the pressing of “F Price” and it may provide an insight into Toronto history a whole. The Prices were a family of brick makers on Greenwood Avenue. The most famous of them are perhaps brothers Isaac Price and John Price — the latter who ran last brickmaking entreprise on Greenwood.
Greenwood Avenue, Goads Fire Insurance Map, 1913. Source: Toronto Historic Maps.
The identity and origin of this “F Price” on this particular brick is a mystery, but may refer to a Fred Price, who was in business in the 1920s. He may have been a brother or son or nephew to the Isaac and John. Fred Price looks to have partnered with a George J Smith. Together they formed Price & Smith, which operated on the west side of Greenwood Avenue north of the railway tracks (where the subway yard now sits). By the mid-1930s, the establishment ceased to appear in the city directories. The historical significance of Price & Smith and brickyards from the same period is in providing the bricks which made the housing stock of Toronto in its growth period after World War I.
“Price & Smith”, The Globe, April 18, 1924. Source: Toronto Public Library and Globe & Mail Archives.
Urban Wilderness
Today, the Leslie Spit is an intriguing refuge for many plants and animals. Some of these are species found in other parts of Toronto, like cattails, goldenrod, trumpeter swans, red-wing black birds, and beavers. Some are to the city as a whole, like bats, owls, and cottonwood trees, which are threatened by the pesky cormorant. The Leslie Spit’s importance as a migratory bird stopover led to it to being declared an “Important Bird Area” by Birdlife International in 2000.
There are two main rules to Tommy Thompson Park: no motorized vehicles and no dogs. Both are to safeguard the peninsula as a habitat to seen and unseen wildlife. The lack of cars is an obvious rule with the exhaust fumes and loudness among other threats providing obvious disruptions. Bikes are allowed and are popular on the Spit, but speeds are capped at 20 km/hour to protect not only pedestrians but wildlife like turtles that may wander onto the path. The dogs or pets policy dates back to the 1980s. Dogs can be a threat to ground-nesting birds and other wildlife. With a population of coyotes on the Spit, pets themselves can also be at risk too.
The balance between human use and environmental respect remains today. With new controversies and challenges arising (like filming), careful stewartship should perserve the Leslie Street Spit for decades and centuries to come!
Throughout its history, the City of Toronto has reimagined its street grid. Growth periods following both World Wars brought with them road improvement schemes to address traffic congestion and better connect the city. Some projects – like the 1931 Church Street extension north of Bloor Street to Davenport Road – came to fruition. Others – most famously, the Spadina Road Extension-turned-expressway cancelled in 1971 – never saw their intended results. Here are four other road extensions in the 20th century that would have altered the geography of Toronto if built.
Victoria Street
When: 1900s to 1930s
In 1906, the Board of Works discussed the possibility of extending Victoria Street from Gerrard Street to Carlton Street for a new streetcar route. Yonge Street relief had been a theme in road improvement, with Bay Street extended north from Queen Street to Davenport in the 1920s (it was even proposed to extend it to St. Clair Avenue in the 1930s and 1940s). Estimates in 1911 had the Victoria-to-Carlton scheme costing as much as $500,000, and a report by the Civic Improvement Committee proposed to extend it further to Bloor. With costs to expropriate property proving too high, Civic Works abandoned the idea in 1912. City Planners revived the idea in a grander plan for downtown streets in 1929. In yet another city-wide improvement plan in 1930, Works Commissioner RC Harris recommended a streetcar-free Victoria Street that would stretch north via Park Road to join with the also-proposed Jarvis and Sherbourne extensions of Mount Pleasant Road. A council motion in 1935 envisioned Victoria ending at Davenport Road, but none of these plans came to fruition. Today, Victoria Street is in fact shorter, ending at Gould after its last block was absorbed by the Ryerson Campus.
Credit: Civic Improvement Committee Report, 1911.
St. Clair Avenue
When: 1920s, 1960s-1970s
A Council decision in 1928 by East York and York County first imagined uniting the two sections of St. Clair Avenue. Initial talks involved land offers and easements from John H. Taylor and the Toronto City Estates to complete the extension in the Don Valley. Discussions followed in 1929 on the course’s starting point and overall engineering. One route extended straight east from Mount Pleasant Road while the other travelled by way of Moore Avenue via a bridge spanning the Belt Line Ravine from St. Clair. From here, the street would connect to the new Leaside Viaduct, then follow Don Mills Road to Woodbine Avenue before finally bridging diagonally across Massey Creek. Moore Park residents disapproved of the Moore Avenue alignment as it meant more vehicular traffic. Discussion seemed to taper off in the 1930s. Reprises in the 1960s saw a valley-spanning St. Clair brought up again, but these too ended in 1970 when the Metro government decided not to proceed after facing public opposition and high costs.
Credit: The Globe, 21 January 1929
Cosburn Avenue
When: 1950s
As a candidate for East York Reeve in the 1956 election, Jack Allen campaigned on the eastward extension of Cosburn Avenue. After winning the position, he continued his push in 1957 and 1958, highlighting a scheme in which the street would continue past Woodbine Avenue by curving parallel to the disused CNR line in the Taylor-Massey Creek valley to connect with Victoria Park Avenue. The purpose was to relieve congestion at Woodbine and O’Connor. Allen also thought the extension would aid the case for a new courthouse at Cosburn and Woodbine and his vision of high-density apartment towers in East York. Parkland advocates at the Don Valley Conservation Association opposed the plan. Allen introduced a master zoning plan by developer and architect Sulio Venchiarutti of Urban Planning Consultants, but this was rejected by East York Council in 1959. A year later, the township adopted a different official plan and Allen was replaced as reeve by future mayor True Davidson.
Credit: Toronto Daily Star 08 Mar 1957
Leslie Street
When: 1960s to 1990s
Following initial suggestions in 1968 and failed proposals in 1971 and 1973, in 1976 Metro Planners brought forward a $20-million extension of Leslie Street south of Eglinton Avenue. Debates around the idea coincided with another valley-spanning proposal in the 1970s for the direct routing of Lawrence Avenue from Bayview to Leslie. Arguments in favour of a lengthened Leslie centred on eased congestion – at the Leslie/Eglinton bottleneck and at neighbouring north-south avenues – while arguments against cited ravine destruction. Another report in 1983 and an environmental study in 1984 seemingly had the now $50-million scheme moving forward, with the route involving a high-level bridge over Wilket Creek Park, followed by a road along the CPR Belleville line before emerging at the Bayview Extension near Nesbitt Drive. Citizen groups argued that, if allowed, the Leslie proposal would re-open the Spadina Expressway debate. In 1988, Metro Council voted in favour of the 4-lane extension, but the price had gone up to $74 million dollars. Debate and public consultations continued into the 1990s with no extension built. In 2000 and 2002, Toronto Councillor Jane Pitfield proposed lengthening Redway Road to Bayview. Opponents feared the damage to Crowthers Woods and a rehashing of the Leslie debate, and nothing came of that plan either.
Credit: Toronto Star, 20 November 1984
Sources
Victoria Street
“Planned New Car Lines” The Globe. 19 May 1906: pg 9.
“Open Victoria Street.” The Globe. 15 March 1907: pg 9
“The Extension of Victoria Street.” The Globe. 2 November 1909: pg 6.
“Victoria Street Extension.” The Globe. 14 January 1910: pg 7. – 330,000
“Extend Victoria St Under New Stature.” The Globe. 22 April 1911: pg 9. – 360,000
“Victoria Street Extension Favored.” The Globe. 3 June 1911: pg 8.
“C.P.R. to Keep Building Site.” The Globe. 28 July 1911: pg 8. – half-million
“Many Important Schemes for the Betterment and Growth of Toronto.” Toronto Daily Star. 30 December 1911: pg 5.
Report of the Civic Improvement Committee for the City of Toronto, 1911
“City May Abandon Victoria Extension.” The Globe. 24 February 1912: pg 9.
“Will Try Arbitration.” The Globe. 2 March 1912: pg 4.
“Victoria Street Extension Killed.” The Globe 18 May 1912: pg 9.
“Make Bloor Street Big Business Centre.” The Globe. 20 March 1917: pg 7.
“City Planners Propose New Downtown Streets.” The Globe. 12 March 1929: pg 15
“Work Commissioner R.C. Harris Presents New City-Wide Project.” The Globe. 15 May 1930: pg 13.
“A Bay Street Plan.” The Globe. 17 January 1930: pg 4.
“Victoria Extension Favored by Expert.” The Globe. 21 November 1930: pg 13.
“Report is Requested on Victoria Extension” The Globe. 26 September 1931: pg 14.
“Victoria Street Extension to Davenport Road Talked.” The Globe. 12 February 1935: pg 11.
St. Clair Avenue
“St. Clair Extension.” The Globe. 21 December 1928: pg 2.
“Favor Taylor Proposal St. Clair Ave. Extension.” The Toronto Daily Star. 21 January 1929: pg 3.
“St. Clair Extension Through East York Offer of J.H. Taylor.” The Globe. 21 January 1929: pg 13.
“Problem of Bridges Northeast of City has Many Angles.” The Globe. 5 February 1929: pg 23.
“Hottest Discussion at County Council on Radial Proposal.” The Globe. 7 June 1929: pg 28.
“Easement Offered for Further Link Extending St. Clair.” The Globe. 23 June 1929: pg 13.
“Citizens Reassured on Extension Plans.” The Globe. 22 August 1929: pg 21.
“Action Expected on Moore Avenue Boundary Bridge.” The Globe. 30 July 1929: pg 13.
“Objects to Bridge.” The Globe. 22 August 1929: pg 4.
“The Moore Park Bridge.” The Globe. 7 September 1929: pg 4.
“Residents Agitated By Bridge Question in Northeast Area.” The Globe. 20 September 1929: pg 17.
“M’Bride Declares St. Clair Extension ‘Out of Question’”. The Globe. 21 September 1929: pg 18.
“Scarboro Plans Work on St. Clair to Aid Jobless.” The Globe. 17 December 1930: pg 10.
“Request St. Clair Cross Don Valley.” The Globe and Mail. 31 October 1962: pg 5.
“Urban Renewal Study for Metropolitan Planning Area Covering 750 Square Miles Is Proposed.” The Globe and Mail. 7 February 1963: pg 4.
“Metro Shelves St. Clair Plan.” The Globe and Mail. 9 September 1970: pg 5.
Cosburn Avenue
“Promise to Campaign for Industry in Suburbs to Balance Housing Surge.” The Globe and Mail. 30 November 1956: pg 11.
“Site on Cosburn Ave. Urged for Courthouse.” The Globe and Mail. 14 February 1957: pg 4.
“Urge Alternate Site for E. York Court.” The Toronto Daily Star. 14 February 1957: pg 19.
“Reeve Asks Old Railway Be Expressway.” The Toronto Daily Star. 8 March 1957: pg 9.
“Reeve of East York Backs New Buildings.” The Globe and Mail. 3 December 1957: pg 5.
“Conservation at the Polls.” The Globe and Mail. 8 November 1958: pg 6.
“Residents Oppose Cosburn Extension.” The Toronto Daily Star. 6 June 1958: pg 29.
“Metropolitan Toronto: Scratch-My-Backism And the Courthouse.” The Globe and Mail. 26 June 1958: pg 7.
“Expect Hot Contests in Suburbs.” The Globe and Mail. 18 November 1958: pg 5.
“Cosburn Plan Foes Cut Chairman Short.” The Toronto Daily Star. 25 November 1958: pg 9.
“The Suburban Elections.” The Toronto Daily Star. 28 November 1958: pg 29.
“East York Greenbelt Should be Saved.” The Toronto Daily Star. 20 December 1958: pg 29.
“East York Zoning.” The Toronto Daily Star. 11 April 1959: pg 29.
“Suites to Oust Homeowners?” The Toronto Daily Star. 16 April 1959: pg 1.
“Raze Homes for Apartments?” The Toronto Daily Star. 16 April 1959: pg 3.
“It’s Improper, Mr. Venchiarutti.” The Toronto Daily Star. 20 April 1959: pg 29.
“Appraiser’s Kin Swung Land Deal, Probe Told.” The Toronto Daily Star. 21 May 1959: pg 2.
“East York Plan Limits Apartments to 5 ‘Pockets’”. The Toronto Daily Star. 22 June 1960: pg 41
“An East York Dialogue on Conflict of Interest.” The Toronto Daily Star. 19 June 1961: pg 7.
Redway, Alan. East York 1924-1997: Toronto’s Garden of Eden. FriesenPress, 2018.
Leslie Street
“Subway Expansion, Restriction on Cars, Sought for Toronto.” The Globe and Mail. 26 March 1968: pg 1.
“Time Needed for Study: Planners delay Flemingdon Scheme.” The Globe and Mail. 21 November 1968: pg 5.
“Transit Can’t Cope: Planners Want to Widen Metro Roads.” The Globe and Mail. 10 July 1976: pg 5.
“Here’s a plan to improve traffic.” The Toronto Star. 29 January 1979: pg A8.
“Alderman Says Extension Won’t Solve Traffic Mess.” The Toronto Star. 31 August 1979: pg A15
“Transport Plan Not Changing: Eggleton.” The Globe and Mail. 11 May 1984: M3.
“Battle Won by War Still Undecided on Extending Leslie past Eglinton.” The Toronto Star. 20 November 1984: pg A25.
“Neighbors Protest Bayview-Leslie Road Plan.” The Globe and Mail. 31 March 1988: pg A16.
“Leslie Extension Sparks Emotional Debate.” The Toronto Star. 13 April 1988: pg A7.
“Leslie Street Debate Resurfaces.” The Globe and Mail. 23 March 1991: pg A9.
“Notice of Public Hearing: Leslie Street Extension on Bayview Avenue Widening.” The Toronto Star. 27 August 1992: pg A26.
“Plan for Leslie Street Extension Scaled Back.” The Globe and Mail. 7 October 2000: pg A27.
