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.
[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
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