The need for control of the Humber

The spotlight was on the Humber River in 1911. After quietly acquiring property on both sides of the river, developer Robert Home Smith pitched a plan to the City of Toronto that would see houses and park space sprout up on the site. What interests me in this episode is the degree to which The Globe and The Star fell in line behind the project and why.

While discussions had already taken place with the city, Home Smith outlined his proposal in a letter to council dated May 29, 1911. His plan would hand the city 105 acres of land along the Humber River, but ask for a series of guarantees in return. The city would have to expropriate another two parcels of land as park space. Currently that land was sitting in private hands and would disrupt the flow of the housing/park development. It would agree to extend its boundaries to a point 600 feet past the western bank of the Humber River, to Dundas Street in the north and the Humber Bay in the south. The city would agree to build a parkway along the Humber River and turn the 105 acres of land that Home Smith was offering into a series of parks. The parkland would be separated from Home Smith’s housing development by a “trespass-proof fence” and the city would provide “Adequate police protection to prevent damage to the trees, etc., in the area dedicated.”[1] Home Smith wrote that he needed the city to agree to keep the 105 acres as park space so he could set high standards for the housing development. The fountains, entrance gates and open green space that would be required of each home-builder would dovetail neatly into the adjacent parks.

Robert Home Smith's plan for the Humber River valley. The full boulevard drive would have scooted along and over the river. ("Humber River Project means Civic Beauty," The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, May 19, 1911, Page 18.)

Initial reaction from the city was optimistic with the mayor and alderman crediting the generosity of Home Smith in making the offer, the opportunity offered by the parkland and the ability to work the Humber Parkway into a long sought system of park boulevards intended to encircle Toronto.[2] Tellingly city officials gave the plan mixed reviews; the park commissioner salivated at the opportunity to lay a parkway through the Humber Valley. But the report of the city solicitor and the assessment commissioner raised red flags. Noting the cost of putting in roads and filling and shaping the land to the point where it could be developed, the report noted, “The success of the undertaking rests entirely on the demand for high class residential property in this particular section, and finally depends upon the sale of the lands to recoup all parties interested, and we are not sanguine enough to believe that the present is the opportune time.”[3] The solicitor and assessment officer report also saw the gap between High Park and the Humber River as a disincentive disadvantage to annexation. But even the solicitor and assessment commissioner were intrigued by the opportunity to acquire “control of the Humber River” and land for a drive way that would be linked into other driveways around the city. For the police, the annexation would mean the extension of its High Park mounted patrol and the regular trips up the Humber River by its motor boat patrol.[4] In true city fashion the concerns of the officials focused on both shaping the landscape, making it suitable for hosues, and shaping behaviour.

The idea of taking control of the Humber wasn’t new. It had been floated at city hall in January, just months before Home Smith made his pitch, with the Board of Control asked to “consider the advisability of recommending the extension of the City’s limits westerly to the Humber River, or to a line 500 feet westerly therefrom, from the Humber Bay to the south bank of the Black Creek, in other words, the annexation of the territory locally known as Swansea and Runnymede, and a portion of Etobicoke Township west of Humber River.” The rationale for the expansion included allowing the city “to control or regulate conditions at the Humber River” along with getting control of the rail trade crossing the Humber, the use of Grenadier Pond, and the protection and regulation of water mains.[5]

Control of the Humber had long been a bone of contention for Toronto. It fell outside the city’s limits, and yet was used liberally by Toronto citizens. Concerns flitted back and forth between safety concerns and moral concerns. Regulation was uncertain and at times ambivalent. In 1896 five young men were pulled before the magistrate and the Globe noted that “Many complaints have been made of the conduct of young men, who go bathing in the Humber.”[6] In 1899 The Globe related this story.

“Bathing in Nature’s Garb
To bathe in the pellucid depths of the Humber and swim about therein in nature’s garb is a great temptation to the youth of the western city limits. Warnings have been repeatedly voiced, but seemingly, without in the least intimidating the unadorned marauders of the river’s bank. High Constable Ramsden sent out two constables to cause terror among the offending bathers. They took in all eleven names, but it was learned later that seven of the names were fictitious. However, two lads names George Sweatman and Henry Mercer appeared yesterday morning before County Magistrate Ellis and were remanded till tomorrow. Gordon Joyce and John Miles appeared also, but Joyce had a crippled hand, and so went on suspended sentence, while Miles, who was not the Miles wanted, withdrew himself from the Magistrates august presence.”[7]

As I’ve noted previously, the Humber bathers had a tendency to stake out their territory in the river and challenge people who came towards them. In a near repeat of the story above, The Star described two constables visiting the river in 1905 and securing “a long list of names, some of which are incorrect, of boys swimming in the river without bathing suits. A large number of persons whose names were taken were naked, and others were using profane language to persons paddling up the river.”[8] It’s interesting, although not particularly surprising, how difficult it was to acquire the names of the people involved in these raids. The undressed body was a challenge to indentify. (The steady stream of people being charged with indecent exposure in the city’s annual police reports suggests people were being charged, it’s less clear how many were actually being convicted.)

Taking on control of the policing the Humber had been discussed in the past but the city hadn’t wanted to extend its responsibilities beyond its territory. “We might as well try to patrol the Muskoka Lakes, because Toronto people rent canoes there,” Mayor Joseph Oliver said in 1909.[9] But pressure, and the number of people using the Humber, had been steadily increasing.

In 1910 a inquest was held into the death of James Furniss, 17, who had drowned in the Humber River on July 10. The jury on the inquest heard from Furniss’s swimming companion, but it also drew opinions from residents around the river. In the end it recommended that “air bathing be strictly prohibited on the River Humber south of Bloor street: that motor-boats be restricted to a speed of five miles an hour, and that a patrol-boat be established to carry out this finding.”[10] Furniss’s death seemed pretty straight forward. He and companion Alex Wilkie went in up to their shoulders; at that point Wilkie, feeling the current, turned back. But Furniss, caught in the stream struggled and went under. Neither knew how to swim and Wilkie was unable to save his companion. But the discussion moved far beyond the facts of the case. The physical condition of the river—“on account of the weeds”—and the fact that bathers sometimes trespassed through private property to reach the river were listed as concerns. And Charles Nurse, who was listed as life-long resident of the Humber area, was reported as saying that “since bathing become so popular there decent people could not go picnicking as they used to” and that, “He considered the river to be both morally and physically dangerous.”[11]

The inquest, and certainly the ongoing discussion around the Humber, likely lead to the January mention of taking control of the Humber space. And a run of city annexations after 1903 during the city’s economic boom made the idea of taking on new space palatable for the city. So, when Home Smith pitched his idea he was entering an ongoing conversation.

Getting the park space mattered and The Star waxed eloquent about that as the news about Home Smith’s pitch was first broken, noting, “The time has come when the Greater Toronto of today must face its obligations towards the still Greater Toronto of tomorrow. The ideals of a great city should not be purely commercial. Civic beauty is as much to be desired as manufactories. Parks and great open spaces are as necessary to real metropolitan success as population, shipping, and financial.”[12]

The conversation also said much about how the Humber river was being used and by who. As The Star noted when it trekked out to take a look at the Humber on a Sunday May 21, just a few days after Home Smith’s proposal made headlines:

“From the Humber bridge to the Old Mill the river was dotted all the way by young men and their lady friends. An effort to count the number of small boats in the river proved discouraging , but it is safe to say that it was well over the thousand mark, and that no accidents were reported seems more a streak of luck than any good management, as the promiscuous paddling hither and thither of canoes regardless of any idea of regulations of boat traffic, made it seem at times as if an accident was inevitable.”[13]

The Star said even people using the river couldn’t agree on the rules by which they should conduct themselves on the water. Should all boats keep right, or not? “Nor is this the worst,” The Star went on to add. “As about four o’clock yesterday afternoon a gang of rowdies in a gasoline launch, in the center of which could be seen a keg of beer, came down the river, and one bibulous occupant held aloft a glass of this stuff, flaunting it in the faces of all whom they passed.”

And this was on a Sunday; those cheeky bastards.

The Star noted that policing schemes had been discussed for the Humber before and fallen through. But now it was time to step up. “No argument is stronger than this fact for the city’s acceptance of Mr. Home Smith’s offer and the annexation of the Humber district to the city in order that some law and order could be enforced,” The Star concluded.[14]

We don’t hear about bathers in this narrative, although they may be lurking in the bushes of the conversation. Certainly we do see what the ideal of the Humber was intended to be; a genteel playground upon which Toronto’s middle-class men and women could indulge in courtship or companionship. The phrase “promiscuous paddling hither and thither” does, and I think was meant to, have if not sexual undertones then at least undertones of the possibilities of young love. This space had been constructed as a heterosexual playground. And this is part of the reason why the men, be they boaters lugging a keg of bear, or bathers flaunting their nudity, were creating such a problem. It was a conflict between the homosocial space of the males and the heterosocial space of the young couples.

In the midst of the discussion, Olive Bain and Hazel Hicks drowned after their dinghy was upset along the lake front; their male companion survived. The double drowning spurred the Star to call for a patrol a long the water front. It noted that the Humber fell in a jurisdictional grey zone between the County of York and the City of Toronto. It was York’s territory, but most of the people using the river were from Toronto. The Star noted on May 26, 1911 that an inquiry four years earlier had called for more policing the river and more control over the renting of watercraft.[15]

On the same day, May 26, The Globe also talked about the upside of bringing the river and the proposed boulevard under the “jurisdiction of the city police” to suppress “reckless motoring on both land and water.” It went on to add; “In the matter of natural beauty the Humber Valley is richly endowed, and the carrying out of Mr. Smith’s project will secure to the citizens of Toronto perpetual access to it under ideal conditions for enjoying its picturesque attractions.”[16] Properly managed and with the behaviour of its users controlled, the Humber would be a worth addition to the city. A month later, on June 23, The Globe said simply: “Bathing should be forbidden in the Don and the Humber inside and outside of the city limits, and enough constables should be put on patrol to make the order effective. Both rivers are full of deadly holes.”[17]

The Globe was even more explicit about its concerns in an Aug. 2, 1911, article, where it stated, “the absolute and indisputable control of the navigable part of the Humber River, where the absence of police protection has long made conditions not merely scandalous but dangerous.” The danger to safety came from motorboats speeding on the river and potentially dunking canoeists. But The Globe doesn’t state specifically what is so scandalous. It does, however, say that the agreement and the annexation of Swansea that was expected to go with it would create, “ the establishment of police authority over the area between the Humber River and Howard Park, which is on the verge of becoming permeated by all sorts of social nuisances with which no unincorporated village, like Swansea, can successfully grapple.”[18] Timing was also key, The Globe argued, stating that the land could have been had for song if the city had acted earlier, and that if it didn’t act now the price would only grow steeper in the future when it would, inevitably, have to be acquired. “In no other way can the whole area be effectively policed.”[19]

The concerns about safety were legitimate. Loss of life on the Humber River throw drowning was almost a rite of spring. Though it might be possible to argue that the media was more concerned about people drowning than it had been a few decades earlier. There was an increased assumption that the city could and should do something. As the Humber agreement continued to be debated in 1912, a drowning spurred both papers to call for action once again. The Globe argued in an editorial:

The Humber Drowning Case
The occurrence of one more death by drowning in the Humber River, at a spot where many previous victims of a place well known to be treacherous have found their doom, shows the absolute necessity of bringing the whole of that river, at least as far as the old mill, under the surveillance of the Toronto civic and police authorities. A tragedy of a very much worse sort is liable to happen at any time when the river is full of skiffs and canoes, and some reckless scorcher runs amuck among them with his motor boat. There is a as nearly as possible an entire absence of the precautions necessary to prevent such a catastrophe. Now that the hot season has really set in, the Humber being the most attractive paddling course anywhere near Toronto, effective precautions cannot be taken too soon. Unless some better method of solving the problem than the one proposed by Mr. Home Smith can be found, the Council might well take his offer and put the scheme through for the sake of acquiring control of the river on both sides.[20]

The drowning in this case was of Bobbie Martin, 14, of 573 Gladstone Avenue. Martin’s body was discovered in the Humber on Sunday morning, July 7, 1912 by bather John Speran who had the ghoulish experience of stepping on the deceased. Martin had been missing since Saturday. The Globe wrote that “The Martin boy had always been regarded as “queer,” and his parents were careful as to the latitude he should have in his recreation. On Saturday, about 2 p.m., his father wanted a newspaper, and Bobbie said he would get one for him. He did not come back. Apparently he took the opportunity to steal away to the Humber and went in bathing alone He could not swim.”[21] The Star was more blunt about Martin’s “queerness” stating that the 14-year-old was a mental defective. Commissioner Starr, of the Juvenile Court, said the youth had appeared in his court several times: “There is no place to keep these people,” Starr said. “The waiting list has 700 more of the same mental caliber upon it.”[22] It’s hard to get a sense on what Martin’s mental “defect” might have been. It might not have involved mental health at all. But the assumed “queer” behaviour and his loss of life in an unsupervised Humber River only added to the push for control.

Ultimately, the city didn’t annex the Swansea district; at least not for another 50 years or so. In fact with the coming of the First World War, Toronto’s territorial expansion came to a close. Aspects of the Humber project, however, did go ahead, including at least part of the boulevard construction. And the city’s interest in the river increased. For a good discussion on Home Smith check out the Torontoist.

In 1913, control of the Humber was still being discussed. This time The Globe reported that Toronto and York County were finally establishing a proper policing regime along the Humber. (The agreement doesn’t appear in the city council minutes for 1913, although it may have been conducted at the level of the police chief.) The Globe stated that county and city authorities were going to “take joint action in the matter by reason of many complaints concerning careless and improper exposure by bathers in the abuse of the bathing privilege, in some cases the indifference to the ordinary ethics of decency is reported to have been most objectionable and has served to give the scenic spot anything but an enviable reputation. The large number of complaints received have determined the authorities in taking drastic action.”[23] The Globe went on to state the problem even more bluntly: “In future this water-course will be again turned into a beautiful and pleasurable summer picnic resort where self-respecting visitors may paddle their friends from the lake-front to the old mill without having to pass gangs of nude, uncouth men and boys who are not content with causing embarrassment, but pass rude gibes and seek to make it uncomfortable for unsuspecting boaters.” Under the deal the County of York, City of Toronto, and township of Etobicoke decided to share the price of policing the Humber with York kicking in 50 per cent of the cost and Toronto and Etobicoke each kicking in 25 per cent. There was also some debate over how to police the areas. The Globe noted that a “motor boat would warn the miscreants of its approach, while a policeman on foot would be more effective.”[24]

The Star also covered the deal and while its article was shorter it alluded to the same concerns that The Globe had stated: “It is not an uncommon occurrence for unsuspecting canoeists and visitors to pass nude bathers, who not content with causing embarrassment, pass rude remarks.”[25] The Star was more concise about what was at stake when it ran a picture of the Humber a couple of days later. Spotted with canoes, the picture was titled, “Protection for Boating Along the Humber” and read, “Again the necessity of police protection along the Humber arises. Young people in canoes are frequently insulted by rowdies along the banks, and there is little restraint on those who choose to go in bathing without clothing. The Humber is too close to civilization to permit this district to go longer without an adequate police patrol.”[26]

The Humber River was a popular spot for canoeists at the beginning of the twentieth century and they competed with space with motor boats and bathers. ("The Canoe-Dotted Stretch of the Humber," The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, June 25, 1913, Page 7)

It’s hard to imagine that class isn’t involved in this discussion; the people in the canoes were the genteel middle class youth of the city out for a paddle and behaving properly, or at least they were behaving to the expectations of the genteel middle class, regardless of their financial standing. The rowdies on the banks were working class, or at least, were being seen that way. They were also male and behaving in what was considered an unacceptable masculine manner; at least not in the presence or potential presence of women. It was behavior that had caused the letter writer “Decency” to question their status of being men when he complained about undressed bathers along the Humber in 1904.[27] The question of “social nuisances,” mentioned by The Globe is some what hard to pin down. Was The Globe referring to the ethnic composition of people swimming in the Humber, was it a class concern, was it a concern about the male homosocial groups that gathered on the Humber’s banks, was there a concern about sexual behaviour within this group of male swimmers? Or was it all of the above? At this point, I can’t say. Certainly, the bathers were behaving in a way that was seen as inappropriate for an urban environment: The Star’s comment about the Humber now being “too close to civilization to permit to permit this district to go longer without an adequate police patrol” makes that clear.

In a way, the discussion around bathing in the Humber followed rules on bathing that had been laid in provincial statutes. The Statutes for Upper Canada (1859) allowed counties, cities and towns to pass bylaws for preventing or regulating the bathing or washing the person in any public water near a public highway.[28] Under a section entitled “Nuisances,” cities, towns and incorporated villages could also pass by-laws “For preventing or regulating the bathing or washing the person in any public water in or near the Municipality.”[29] In other words, the statutes were intended to control bathing near population centres or near roads upon which people might travel, otherwise it was to be allowed. So when The Star fretted about the Humber being near civilization it was accurately reflecting the nineteenth century concept of how space should be used. However, by 1914 by-laws that had previously limited the control of bathing to cities and towns were now extended to all local municipalities, which meant that bathing was, by definition, controlled, rather than merely by location.[30] Or to put it another way, every where was now civilized.

In his book Toronto to 1918: An Illustrated History, J.M.S. Careless argues that as it grew Toronto slowly took more control of its hinterland; creating an economic and cultural shadow across the rest of the province.[31] This happened in tangible ways as well, with the city gaining after 1900 the right to influence, planning, roads, and purchase park space in land adjacent to its boundaries. But the shadow of the city clearly included expectations of moral behaviour and expectations of sexual and gender identity. It was a shadow cast by all urban centres. Certainly in Toronto’s case it would have been driven by a population growth that pushed people to overflow the boundaries of the city, making the Humber River a much busier place, and that forced the city to think about where its citizens were spending their time. But it’s also a window into how the self-proclaimed leaders of Toronto envisioned the city, and envisioned it being seen.

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[1] Report no. 17 of the Board of Control, June 9, 1911, Toronto City Council 1911, Appendix A, Page 929-931, City of Toronto Archives.

[2] “People After Lot Already,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, May 17, 1911, Page 6. “Take in 1,000 feet West of Humber,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, May 17, 1911, Page 1.

[3] Report no. 19 of the Board of Control, July 5, 1911, Toronto City Council 1911, Appendix A, Page 1097, City of Toronto Archives.

[4] Report no. 19 of the Board of Control, July 5, 1911, Toronto City Council 1911, Appendix A, Page 1099, City of Toronto Archives.

[5] Report no. 1 of the Board of Control, Jan. 20, 1911, Toronto City Council 1911, Appendix A, Page 37, City of Toronto Archives.

[6] “Local Briefs,” The Globe, Thursday, July 23, 1896, Page 10.

[7] “Bathing in Nature’s Garb,” The Globe, Friday, July 14, 1899, Page 10.

[8] “A Raid on the Humber Bathers,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, June 26, 1905, Page 1.

[9] “No Patrol of Humber Waters,” The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, July 30, 1909, Page 1.

[10] “To Prohibit Bathing,” The Globe, Tuesday, July 19, 1910, Page 8.

[11] “To Prohibit Bathing,” The Globe, Tuesday, July 19, 1910, Page 8.

[12] “The Humber Boulevard,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, May 17, 1911, Page 8.

[13] “Danger on Humber River, Carelessness in Boats,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, May 22, 1911, Page 2.

[14] “Danger on Humber River, Carelessness in Boats,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, May 22, 1911, Page 2.

[15] “Authorities do Nothing to Make Boating Secure,” The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, May 26, 1911, Page 3.

[16] “The Humber Valley Improvement,” The Globe, Friday, May 26, 1911, Page 6.

[17] “Notes and Comments,” The Globe, Friday, June 23, 1911, Page 6.

[18] “The Annexation of the Humber Valley,” The Globe, Wednesday, Aug. 2, 1911, Page 6.

[19] “The Annexation of the Humber Valley,” The Globe, Wednesday, Aug. 2, 1911, Page 6.

[20] “The Humber Drowning Case,” The Globe, Tuesday, July 9, 1912, Page 6.

[21] “Stepped on Body While in Swimming,” The Globe Monday, July 8, 1912, Page 9.

[22] “Drowned Boy Martin Mentally Defective,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, July 8. 1912, Page 6.

[23] “Unsightly Bathing to be Prohibited: Authorities will restore Decency on the Humber,” The Globe, Monday, June 23, 1913, Page 8.

[24] “Unsightly Bathing to be Prohibited: Authorities will restore Decency on the Humber,” The Globe, Monday, June 23, 1913, Page 8.

[25] “Humber Rowdies to be Suppressed,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, June 23, 1913, Page 10.

[26] “Protection for Boating Along the Humber,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, June 25, 1913, Page 7.

[27] “Nude Bathing in the Humber,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, Aug. 23, 1904, Page 4.

[28] Statutes, page 594-595, section 282, 10 and 11, 1859 edition.

[29] Statutes, Page 600, section 294, 19, 1859.

[30] Statutes, 1914, Section 399, 1, page 2451, volume 2

[31] J.M.S. Careless, Toronto to 1918: An Illustrated History, James Lorimer and Company, Publishers: Toronto, 1981. P 17-19, 107, 154, 173

The tyranny of the moustache

This little article from the Toronto Daily Star on the tyranny of the moustache has pretty much nothing to do with my research. I suppose I could make an undressed face link, and keeners on imperial research and its impact on bodies within the British Empire could probably have some fun with this. The Daily Mail has a useful article that looks at the role of the moustache in the British Empire.

“Forced Moustachios For Officers Only
Rank and File at Niagara Camp No Compelled to Grow Facial Adornment
 Proud wives, mothers, sailors, and sweethearts of the soldiers at Niagara Camp this week, and of the cadets who are going in July, need not be unduly alarmed at the war correspondent’s story in a morning paper to the effect that everybody at Niagara camp must wear a moustache, according to the King’s regulations. Our representative at the camp sends us the following reassuring message this morning:
“The order referring to growing of moustaches is an imperial regulation, being in force in camp with officers only and principally those of headquarters staff.”[1]

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[1] “Forced Moustachios for Officers Only,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, June 24, 1913, Page 4.

The War against Flies

In 1912 The Toronto Daily Star declared war on the fly. “The house-fly is the common enemy of mankind,” the newspaper announced. “It is the purpose of The Star to make Toronto as far as possible a flyless city. That’s why the Swat-the-Fly Campaign is under way, with sixty-five prizes, totaling $200, to be paid the boys and girls who bag the most of the pests.”[1]

The stakes, according to The Star, were high:

“Flies are the wholesale murderers of mankind.

The apparently innocent little thing that crawls over your face and hands may be carrying germs of typhoid fever, tuberculosis, dysentery, cholera infantum. It may bring eggs of the hook worm and the tape worm. It may make you’re a present of death.

“The natural instinct of the fly is to seek filth. The only use it is on earth is found in the little good it does as a scavenger, but its work in this line is so small that it only thwarts modern methods and can be classed as no advantage to mankind.”[2]

"Swat the  Fly," and so Help Humanity Specialist Endorses the New Crusade," The Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, July 11, 1912, Page 4.

Things weren’t always this way between man and fly. In the nineteenth century they had a cordial, almost friendly, relationship. As Naomi Rogers remarks in her article “Germs with Legs: Flies, Disease, and the new Public Health,” “The nineteenth-century fly could be not only a playmate but also a part of nature, something of beauty and grace.”[3] But that changed in North America in the period between 1890 and 1910 with the fly recast as a public health threat. It found itself at the uncomfortable confluence of two different forms of medical discourse; the older held that disease emerged from filth and the newer that linked disease more directly to germ theory.[4] Flies were literally portrayed as “germs with legs.”[5] Their mobility allowed them to carry disease and risk from unhealthy areas to healthy areas, from filthy areas to clean areas.

Charles Hastings, Toronto’s medical health officer, described the threat offered by the fly this way in a 1911 report to city council: “The means by which food can be contaminated by the fly coming directly from outside closets and privy pits, and from the room of the Typhoid patient, with its feet and body contaminated with these germs, are so apparent as to need no further comment.”[6] The last part of the statement was clearly not true, because Hastings actively took part in The Star’s Swat the Fly exactly so that he could spread the word to the general public on the risks presented by the fly. The new image of the fly still had to be sold.

In his report to council, Hastings blamed a late summer increase in the number of typhoid cases in the city, in part, on the activities of the house-fly, which also seemed to hit its peak numbers in August. “The house-fly has won for itself such continental reputation as a carrier of germs of Typhoid Fever that it is now known by Sanitarians as the “Typhoid Fly” and the “Tuberculosis Fly,” Hastings wrote.[7] The term Typhoid fly probably came from L. O. Howard, the head of the United States Department of Agriculture’s Bureau of Entomology. Howard conducted a long running campaign against the house-fly and in 1911 published the second edition of his The House Fly: Disease Carrier. An Account of Its Dangerous Activities and of the Means of Destroying it.[8] Hastings would certainly have been on top of the literature.

Hastings included eliminating the house-fly, along with creating a clean water and milk supply, and a better diet as the recipe for eliminating Typhoid. He noted: “The house-flay can be practically exterminated by the adopting of rigid sanitary measures, such as will prohibit all possible breathing places for this insect, as well as the efficient screening of all food and apartments, especially those occupied by the sick.”[9] Hastings also recommended establishing municipal incinerators for burning refuse and garbage and the establishment of municipal abattoirs to cut down on the number of privately run, and less stringently controlled, private slaughter houses. The city was listening.  While The Star was conducting its campaign against the fly in 1912, the city of Toronto was also looking to construct a new Abattoir and conducting a vote on spending $1 million to create a new garbage disposal system.

In 1911, Hastings also led the board of health in conducting a tour of the city’s slums and uncovering a myriad of health and hygiene concerns such as overflowing privy pits and outdoor closets (aka outhouses).[10] The report noted “we are confronted with the existence of congested districts of unsanitary, overcrowded dwellings, which are a menace to public health, affording hot beds for germination and dissemination of disease, vice and crime.”[11] As historians such as Steven Maynard and Mariana Valverde have noted, Hastings and health officers at the time saw the slum as both health and moral concern and their language intermingled the two categories.[12] This particular vision increased the stakes when it came to controlling the fly; because its ability to move from one area of the city to another and potentially “disseminate” disease represented not just a health threat but also, potentially, a moral concern. The fly fit neatly into this world of health, environment, moral and urban concerns and we can imagine a horde of flies sweeping up out of the uncontrolled and unhygienic slums and invading the rest of the city. Were they more than just a threat to physical health?

"Dealers in Fly Traps Unable to Supply the Brisk Demand," The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 9, 1912, Page 1.

The Star wasn’t breaking new ground when it launched its anti-fly campaign. Similar campaigns had taken place in the United States.[13] In complimenting the newspaper for its efforts, Canadian Household Economic Association president Mrs. L. A. Gurnett noted that she had been watching a similar competition undertaken in Ottawa by the local Council of Women.[14] Gurnett added, “Doctors tell us that a large part of the infant mortality in summer is caused by flies … I wouldn’t allow a fly in my house and I haven’t a single one.”

Gurnett’s words must have been music to the ears of Hastings. He used the Swat the Fly campaign as an opportunity to get the word out on the dangers offered by fly. The news stories carried liberal coverage about how quickly the fly could breed and what dangers they offered. “This is where the boys and girls of the city can be of real genuine service,” Hastings said at the start of the campaign.[15] That service involved more than just catching flies, because every child in the contest acted as an ambassador for the anti-fly message and pulled in their families, friends and neighbours along with them. Other members of the medical profession also lent their voices to the campaign.

On July 11, Dr. Hanley, tuberculosis and typhoid specialist at Toronto General Hospital noted that, “If we could get rid of flies … It would go a long way to ridding the world of typhoid fever and tuberculosis … In the case of tubercular sores or septic conditions, the possibility of flies lighting upon such spots is obvious. Imagine what it would be if we allowed flies free ingress to the hospitals. They would spread disease all over the city. It is of vital importance not only for the sake of the comfort of the patient, but for the health of the community, that flies be kept away from a sick bed.”[16] In an urban environment increasingly focused on controlling both space and bodies, the fly was a potential rogue factor.

Following the proud newspaper tradition of not acknowledging what the competition is up to The Globe doesn’t seem to have taken part in or given much, if any, publicity to The Star’s “Swat the Fly” competition. Indeed it noted cryptically in the “Notes and Comments” section of its editorial page on July 9 that “The rewards of fly-swatting must not be made so high as to stimulate fly hatcheries.”[17] The Star seems to have pre-empted that very concern by stating at the beginning of the campaign that “Breeding of flies to be strictly prohibited. Any person resorting to such improper practices is liable to prosecution, as fly-breeding is a public nuisance and a menace to health.”[18]

But even if it wasn’t participating in the campaign, The Globe was talking about flies in 1912. It printed an extended interview on July 17 with Dr. C. Gordon Hewitt, the dominion entomologist, outlining the dire threat the fly represented when it came to spreading disease. Hewitt seemed to feel that part of his job was putting the fear of the fly into people: “[The fly] is not the ‘wholesome little animal’ some have termed it, but, in the opinion of Dr. Hewitt, a fearless, dashing mass of heat-infused vitality that does no one any good, and seems to have been created to torment and kill the innocent.”[19]

The column helpfully included this image to drive the point home.

Will Silo, “The Fly—Deadliest Foe of Our Country Homes: Dr. Hewitt tells how to deal with it,” The Globe, Wednesday, July 17, 1912, Page 4.

The Globe also reprinted literature sent out by the city’s Medical Health Department, including this article on July 8, at the same time The Star was kicking off its competition: 

Fight the Pesky Fly
Health Office Issues Some More Warnings
 The campaign against the fly is still being actively waged by the City Medical Health Department and in this connection numerous “don’ts” are used. “Don’t allow flies in the sick room, or near any child or adult suffering from a communicable diseases, “ says the Medical Health Officer. “Don’t allow flies to crawl over the mouth of the sleeping baby or over the nipple of the baby’s feeding bottle.” “Don’t allow your children to eat any food that has been exposed in any way to fly contamination.” “Don’t buy fruit confectionary, pastry or any other food that has been exposed to flies.”[20]

As with all good campaigns aimed at transforming public behavior, getting buy in from the media was critical. And the media does seem to have bought into the campaign to label the fly an enemy of mankind. But I think at times, such as within that string of don’ts,  we can also detect at least a hint of bemusement in the media’s participation.

Back at The Star the competition was heating up. Early contestants used a variety of methods to catch their flies, even snagging them by hand. Hastings played the role of impartial judge in The Star’s campaign and helped tally the flies. The count would be done by weight with one pint of flies defined as equaling 3,200 flies.[21] Hastings was careful to assure people that there was no danger in catching lies, provided the children washed up thoroughly after they were done.[22] As the contest went on, contestants learned the art of catching and claiming credit for flies. Some looked forlornly at the numbers of flies they were credited with and claimed their flies had shrank after they caught them. No, doubt they had and Hastings handed out advice on how the youngsters could make the most of their haul. “You must bring them in oftener,” he told them. “Bring them in while they are fresh.”[23] Counting the flies could be a challenge. The Star had told the kids to kill the flies however they could, but contestants bringing in wads of fly paper coated with flies complicated things and were quickly told to find another way to kill their quota.[24]

Private companies got in on the fly flight. But these fly pads were not allowed in the contest.  "Wilson's Fly Pads, " The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, July 19, 1912, Page 9.

Traps quickly emerged as the best ticket to catching flies in large numbers and The Star helpfully published pictures of what the traps should look like and where people could get them.

Apart from ridding the city of flies and educating the public about the risks posed by the fly, the campaign also alerted city officials to some of the fly hot spots in the city. The Old Fort was singled out in particular. A number of the top contestants came from that area and they cited the presence of a garbage dump and manure pile with providing them with their fly-munition.[25] Hastings took the news with some frustration telling The Star, “The contractor told me he had soaked that manure pile with carbolic acid.”[26]

Early in the campaign Beatrice White, 14, of Major Street emerged as the leader and never looked back.[27] Initially equipped with six traps in her yard, she expanded her compliment to 14 by the end of the contest and spread the traps further afield as the local fly population dwindled.[28] According to The Star a wide-eyed competitor looked at the 130 ounces of flies that White brought in on July 22 and said, “Gee—they must have a lot of flies in her house.” But White laughed off the comment, saying, “Since I set the traps in the back yard and in the lane there have been none at all in the house.”[29]

The Star did note that, “It seems strange that the girls are beating the boys in this competition. It has not been so in other cities where the war against flies has been carried on. In Worcester, Massachusetts, boys won first and second prizes.”[30] But in Toronto the girls were leading at mid contest and in the end Beatrice White and Elva Baill would rank one and two respectfully. Throughout the campaign the competitors seemed to include an even mix of boys and girls. Despite The Star’s surprise that the girls were beating the boys, it is hard to say what sort of gendered expectations there were going into the contest. Certainly the early reports of boys catching flies with their hands fit the image or youthful male precociousness. But as the contest continued, it became clear that the leaders were relying on far more than nimble hands.

Beatrice White and some of her home-made fly traps. (William James, “Beatrice White, winner of The Toronto Star's "Swat the Fly" contest,” Fonds 1244, Item 1039, 1912, City of Toronto Archives.)

White’s traps were made by her brother she had her family fully behind her during the competition. The family was also feeling the heat from being in first place. As Beatrice’s mother told The Star, “Some of the boys are that mean they kick the traps down if somebody is not there to watch them.”[31] Rumors swirled that a boy at Price’s Dairy had been hoarding flies and was planning to sweep in at the last moment to win. But White contended she was ready for him. “Our milk man told me he had started in on his second can … He wanted me to take some traps down to the dairy, but I’m not afraid of him. I guess I can get all the flies I want right where I am now,” White told The Star.[32] “It’s hard work,” Mr. White told The Star as the contest wound down. “We didn’t put out our traps last Sunday at all—Beatrice had such a big lead. But we’ll have to put them out this Sunday. We can’t tell what may be out against us.”[33]

Despite the late contest drama, no one emerged at the last moment to sweep victory away from White.  She won handily having killed an estimated 543,360 flies, more than double her nearest competition, and netted $50 for her efforts. In the end The Star credited the contest with having taken 3,367,680 flies out of circulation directly and, as it noted many times throughout the contest, many more beyond that when the potential offspring that the flies might have had was taken into account.[34]

The Star did not take up the war against the fly again in 1913. But the battle wasn’t completely forgotten. New enemies were emerging. In an article entitled, “The cockroach now a subject of warfare,” The Star stated “not only the fly, but other so-called scavengers are coming under the ban of science, one by one, as bearers of disease. The latest is the cockroach, which is believed by some physicians to be a cancer-carrier.” Quoting American Medicine, The Star noted the best approach in the battle against cockroachs was to ensure they had nothing to feed on in your house. The article went on to add, “The houserat has long been under the ban, so have the house –fly, house mosquito, house-mouse, the louse and flea. Perhaps the English sparrow, another messmate, will soon be detected in some unhygienic wrong.”[35]

There were other animals on society’s hit list at the turn of the century. The gopher was busy making enemies on the Canadian prairies and facing its own eradication campaigns. But the gopher wasn’t seen as much of a threat in the city as compared to rural environments where it represented, and still represents, a competitor for the rural environment.[36] The fly and the rest of the “messmates” listed potentially had intimate contact with people and the body and the domestic environment. Eradicating them from the built environment came at this distinctive moment of modernity when mankind was disengaging itself from nature and drawing a firmer line between culture and the natural environment. Henceforth nature was something to be visited and even revitalized by, but not lived in. That the medical profession was leading the campaign against the fly speaks, as I’ve noted with reference to Rogers, to a confluence at the turn of the twentieth century between germ theory and theories of filth and, we can add, concepts of moral hygiene that created a collision, or rather collusion, between science and morality and the environment of the city. Pity the fly. It buzzed into the centre of all of this in 1912.

The moment did pass. The risks of the fly were exaggerated in 1912, but changes after 1912 in medicine and technology helped quiet concerns. “The widespread use of typhoid inoculation during and after the First World War, improved water and sewage systems, and the replacement of horses by automobiles also lessened concern with the “typhoid fly””[37] And the typhoid fly went back to being a plain old house-fly. Still the fly has never recaptured the care-free relationship it had with mankind in the nineteenth century. It remains an unwelcome interloper in the domestic and urban environments and an unwelcome brush with nature when it lands on the body.

---

[1] “Swat the Fly! Swat the Fly and sell them to us for cash,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 6, 1912, Page 8.

[2] “Swat the Fly! Swat the Fly and sell them to us for cash,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 6, 1912, Page 8.

[3] Rogers, Naomi, “Germs with Legs: Flies, Disease, and the New Public Health,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine, 63:4 (1989:Winter) p.599-617, 602.

[4] Rogers, 609.

[5] Rogers, 602.

[6] Report no. 14 of the Local Board of Health, Toronto City Council, 1911, Appendix A, Sept. 12, 1911, page 1494, City of Toronto Archives.

[7] Report no. 14 of the Local Board of Health, Toronto City Council, 1911, Appendix A, Sept. 12, 1911, page 1494, City of Toronto Archives.

[8] Rogers, 605.

[9] Report no. 14 of the Local Board of Health, Toronto City Council, 1911, Appendix A, Sept. 12, 1911, page 1495, City of Toronto Archives.

[10] Report no. 19 of the Local Board of Health, Toronto City Council, 1911, Appendix A, Nov. 2, 1911, page 1820, City of Toronto Archives.

[11] Report no. 19 of the Local Board of Health, Toronto City Council, 1911, Appendix A, Nov. 2, 1911, page 1821, City of Toronto Archives.

[12] Steven Maynard, “Through a Hole in the Lavatory Wall: Homosexual Subcultures, Police Surveillance, and the Dialectics of Discovery, Toronto, 1890-1930,” Journal of the History of Sexuality, Vol. 5, No. 2 (Oct., 1994), pp. 207-242, 215. Mariana Valverde, The Age of Light, Soap, and Water: Moral Reform in English Canada, 1885-1925. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008), 51.

[13] Rogers, 610.

[14] ‘Swat the Fly’ The Conquering Slogan of Latest and Best Children’s Crusade,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, July 8, 1912, Page 8.

[15] ‘Swat the Fly’ The Conquering Slogan of Latest and Best Children’s Crusade,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, July 8, 1912, Page 8.

[16] “Swat the Fly,” and so help Humanity Specialist Endorses the New Crusade,” The Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, July 11, 1912, Page 4.

[17] “Notes and Comments,” The Globe, Tuesday, July 9, 1912, Page 6.

[18] “Swat the Fly! Swat the Fly and sell them to us for cash,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 6, 1912, Page 8.

[19] Will Silo, “The Fly—Deadliest Foe of Our Country Homes: Dr. Hewitt tells how to deal with it,” The Globe, Wednesday, July 17, 1912, Page 4. This dovetails with Roger’s article.

[20] “Fight the Pesky Fly,” The Globe, Monday, July 8, 1912, Page 9.

[21] “Dealers in fly traps unable to supply the Brisk Demand,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 9, 1912, Page 1.

[22] “Cartage people anxious to Help Fly Swatting Crusade, “ The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, July 19, 1912, Page 4.

[23] “Twenty-Five Thousand Flies the Result of the First Measuring Up,” The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, July 12, 1912, Page 1.

[24] “Swat the Fly!” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 23, 1912, Page 5.

[25] “Swat the Fly! Record Half-Million count, Contest Coming to a Close,” The Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, Aug. 15, 1912, Page 2.

[26] “136, 800 flied turned in at yesterday’s measuring up,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 20, 1912, Page 23.

[27] “136, 800 flied turned in at yesterday’s measuring up,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 20, 1912, Page 23.

[28] “Swat the Fly! Day too Cold for the Flies and One Little Girl Cried,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, Aug. 12, 1912, Page 11. It was the cold weather that brought Evelyn Earl to tears; it reduced her take to just four ounces and allowed others to push past her in the competition. But all was not lost, she was still in the running at the end of the contest and won a $1 for her efforts.

[29] “Swat the Fly!” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 23, 1912, Page 5.

[30] “Swat the Fly! Everybody’s Swatting Now, Killing Flies in Millions,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, July 24, 1912, Page 6.

[31] “Swat the Fly! Record Half-Million count, Contest Coming to a Close,” The Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, Aug. 15, 1912, Page 2.

[32] “Swat the Fly! Record Half-Million count, Contest Coming to a Close,” The Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, Aug. 15, 1912, Page 2.

[33] “Swat the Fly! One more Count and Prized will be Awarded Swatters,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, Aug. 17, 1912, Page 8.

[34] “Cash Prizes Awarded to Sixty-Six Faithful Swatters this Afternoon,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, Aug. 20, 1912, Page 14.

[35] “The cockroach now a subject of warfare,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 5, 1913, Page 22.

[36] Alison Calder, “Why Shoot the Gopher? Reading the Politics of a Prairie Icon,” The American Review of Canadian Studies (Autumn 2003): 391-414, 393, 400.

[37] Rogers, 616.