Thursday, December 6, 2012

Curse those padded shoulders

Thematically, I can fit this under my Undressed Toronto framework but, let’s face it, I’m just putting it up here because it made me laugh.

Judge Morson as a Coat Fitter
Denied That Samuels Had Got a Good-Fitting Overcoat

Judge Morson’s Division Court resembled the fitting department of a tailor shop this morning, when the Redablo [at least it appears to be Redablo] Manufacturing Company sued Mr. Samuels of 372 Queen Street East for $17, cost of making a suit and overcoat.
Mr. Samuels had the undercoat on, and was complaining of alleged defects, with the tailor dissenting, when his Honor enquired, “What’s all this?”
For one thing, Samuels objected to the padding, and so did his lawyer.
“Every shoulder is padded,” suggested Judge Morson. “That coat fits well.”
The tailor maintained that the coat was all that it ought to be. “He wanted wide shoulders,” he declared, referring to Mr. Samuels sartorial instructions.
“Mr. Samuels is very particular,” his Honor was told.
“I should think so. He bought the cloth at a fire sale,” came from the plaintiff’s lawyer.
“We all want bargains,” retorted the other solicitor.  “Mr. Samuels has a good figure and ought to have a good fit.”
The Mr. Samuels donned the overcoat, and at some length indicated what impressed him as imperfections, but his Honor, after a fairly close scrutiny, wasn’t impressed, finally giving judgment in full against the defendant.
During the demonstration Judge Morson had given certain fairly expert advice to the defendant, such as: “Keep your that shoulder down, etc.” As to the padding, his Honor was under the impression that it had been ordered. The court-room was replete with legal talent, but tailoring seemed to interest the solicitors fully as much s law.
J. Samuels, hardware merchant, wanted a plumbing balance of $60 from Mrs. Mary A. Willis, but the latter was not ready to proceed.
“I want a lawyer,” explained Mrs. Wills.
“So you are not satisfied with me,” commented Judge Morson. “Very well.” With a smile, “I’ll adjourn the case one week.”

(“Judge Morson as a Coat Fitter,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, June 2, 1908, Page 5.)

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Order and the Toronto Island Constable

In the early twentieth century, Toronto Island was a work in progress. The city’s sand pump was constantly creating new pieces of land, while the city’s dredging equipment was digging out channels. The island was alive, shaped by the forces of nature and man. Parts of the island were park spaces, parts were leased to “campers” while other sections were still being “improved.” But the city was increasingly trying to put order into the unruly landscape and peoplescape of the island. I’m interested in pulling together a few examples of that process and then looking at how that same process all came crashing down upon William Ward, one of the island’s most famous residents.

A look at Toronto Island in 1913. (Plate 1B, Goads Fire Insurance Plans 1913, Toronto City Archives)

Turner’s Baths had operated on the west side of the island since 1883. But in the early part of the twentieth century the city was taking over the property and trying to bring some of the unruly campers around it into order, which lead to a report from the island committee in 1906 looking at where people south of the baths should set up their summer homes. The report recommended that, “… in order that there might be some uniformity in the location of future houses on this section of the Island, the land be sub-divided into twelve fifty-foot lots as per plan submitted and rented to those of the above owners who applied for the same on the understanding that those securing lots were to erect houses similar to those north of the Baths, and be restricted to the regulations adopted for the northern lots …”[1] The requirements specified the size of the summer cottages and what was allowed in and around them. Cottages that had been in the area previously and met those standards were allowed to move to a new more orderly location while those that didn’t, and most of them didn’t, had to be pulled down.

On the eastern side of the island, the city was planning to play land developer as detailed in Report no. 17 of the Island Committee;
“The assessment commissioner has submitted for the approval of your committee and the council, a plan for improving the eastern portion of the island. The plan as outlined provided for the filling in of the lots fronting the lake and making them suitable for leasing for residential purposes; the construction of a 50 foot roadway, and 200 foot channel north of the said lots, and the making of a small island about 20 acres in extent north of the said channel. This island to be connected with the main land by two rustic bridges.
The assessment commissioner’s plan when carried out will certainly be a great improvement, not only to this portion of the Island, but the Island generally, and will greatly improve the sanitary condition of the locality.”[2]
Bathers were also on the minds of the city’s island committee members. The committee pitched the idea of building bath houses at both sides of the island. Initial plans for a new bath house to replace Turner’s Baths included a women’s section with room for 24 changing rooms and a men’s section with room for 50 changing rooms. The cost would was estimated at $5,000.[3] The city’s board of control, which controlled the city’s cheque book, wasn’t thrilled with the idea of spending money on bath houses, however, and the project went back and forth between the committees throughout the rest of the year. Interestingly, by fall, when the island committee was submitting a revised and more thorough sketch of the proposed bath house to the board of control it included an equal number of changing rooms for men and women; each of them would get 84 cubicles.[4]

And finally, the city was also trying to control the natural environment on the island; in this case our old friend the mosquito. At its June 3, 1907 meeting the island committee discussed a request it had received from Mr. J. Lockhart Gordon “asking the assistance of the City in the matter of exterminating the mosquito on the Island.”[5] Gordon wrote that while the island residents were doing their part to snuff out the mosquito on their land, they needed the city to tackle the stagnant ponds on city property to be truly successful. The committee concurred and passed a motion to pitch in $100 to purchase crude oil to spray on the stagnant water ponds.

So how does William Ward fit into this discussion?

Ward’s name appeared in the city council minutes and appendix for 1906 when the island committee decided at its Feb. 22 meeting by a vote of 3 to 2 to terminate his work as island constable.[6] The Ward family had been on Toronto Island since at least the mid-nineteenth century and Ward’s Island, where they lived, had taken its name from the family. William Ward operated a hotel on the island and had been named island constable in the late nineteenth century, primarily due to his track record for rescuing people from Lake Ontario.[7] Ald. Sam McBride, a colourful figure in Toronto’s history and future mayor of the city, was highlighted in the Toronto Daily’s Star’s coverage of the vote, which was headlined, “Civic Employe without duties: Ald. McBride Appears to Have About got the Scalp of Island Constable Ward.”[8] The initial goal of McBride and the others might have been cost cutting; the city had started to place members of its regular force on the island, rendering Ward’s job, which had been created to serve the island, redundant.

At its March 5 meeting the island committee argued with Ward and his lawyer, W.H. Lockhart Gordon (and no, I’m not certain whether W.H. is located to the J. Lockhart Gordon mentioned above) about his role on the island. The issue now seemed to be far larger than whether Ward was needed as the island constable or not. According to the Toronto Daily Star, Ald. McBride led the charge against Ward stating;
“I have been on the Island three years and the only clothes Mr. Ward has worn was a pair of white socks and sweater … He allows his cows to run all over the Island, and the people thought he owned the Island. He also allowed his bull to run wild to the danger of the children. People are allowed to go in bathing without proper uniform. Mr. Ward has been collecting rent from a house built upon city property, and has been pocketing money the city should have. He has never done his duty as the Island constable, and has used a Government lifeboat for about four years and never saved a life.”[9]
In McBride’s comments Ward becomes the focal point for everything the city is attempting to control; his cattle scatter into an area meant to be park space, he flouts controlled behaviour by allowing people to bathe while improperly dressed and his property tumbles outside its proper limits. Despite the family’s long standing connection with Toronto Island, Ward was, like everyone else, leasing his property from the city. The question was, and apparently people hadn’t worried about asking before, where was the boundary of Ward’s lease? Ward was also improperly dressed; he wasn’t filling the visual role of appearing to be a constable, according to McBride. That was a conceptual problem but it was also a practical financial one; the constable’s position included an annual $60 stipend for two constables’ uniforms and McBride clearly thought that if Ward wasn’t wearing a uniform that was $60 not well spent by the city.[10] Along with removing him from his position as island constable, the city pursued a legal challenge against Ward, demanding that he repay rent that had been collected from tenants who in fact had been sitting on city property rather that property within Ward’s lease.[11] It’s a clear example of how the city’s efforts to police its territory were increasing and long-time residents like Ward were caught in the middle.

Gordon pointed out at the March 5 meeting that Ward had saved 120 people in the waters around the island, including ten in the last year but it won him no friends with the island committee members who still wanted him out as constable. Toronto’s board of control was more sympathetic to Ward and argued that while they could accept him losing his position as constable, they still wanted to see him maintained in a life-saving capacity on the island.[12] And, indeed, the city was in the midst of debating the creation of a life-saving unit for the waterfront and Ward was held up, albeit by the Committee on Property this time,  as the ideal candidate to lead that group.[13]

The positive views of Ward were certainly justified later that summer when Ward, three of his sons and a group of volunteers were given a commendation from the city for rescuing seven people aboard the three-masted schooner Reuben Dowd, which had run aground 600-yards east of the eastern channel at 4:30 a.m. on Friday, Aug. 24, 1906, in the midst of a gale. At the time of the rescue, the Toronto Daily Star noted that, “Those who witnessed the rescue, and they were many, emphasize the fact that Ward’s life-boat has proved its usefulness in an incontrovertible manner.”[14] Unfortunately the story contained no quotes form McBride to see if he felt the same way. The city went on to give each of the people involved in the rescue $50 in recognition of their efforts.[15] (It’s not clear to me yet what McBride had to say after that rescue, but I’m still checking.) However, the legal wrangles between Ward and the city continued over several years with the city suing Ward for what it considered lost rental income and Ward countersuing for lost wages.[16] This legal wrangling has certainly had no impact on Ward’s legacy in Toronto, writers like Bill Freeman have recognized Ward as the “Island Lifesaver” and credit him with saving 164 people during his life.[17]

But in some ways Ward’s struggles in the new century represent the changes that were happening on the island and the changes in the way the city thought about nature, land, ownership and people. Ward just happened to come together at the confluence of so many of these themes.



[1] Report No. 2 of the Island Committee, Feb. 5, 1906, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix A, Page 133, Toronto City Archives.
[2] Report No. 17 of the Island Committee, Nov. 19, 1906, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix A, Page 1533, Toronto City Archives.
[3] Report No. 5 of the Island Committee, March 20, 1906, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix A, Page 319-320, Toronto City Archives.
[4] Reprot No. 13 of the Island Committee, Sept. 20, 1906, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix A, Page 1215, Toronto City Archives.
[5] Report No. 11 of the Island Committee, City Council Appendix A, June 3, 1907, Pages 815-816, Toronto City Archives.
[6] Report No. 3 of the Island Committee, Feb. 22, 1906, Toronto City Council Appendix A, Page 191, Toronto city Archives.
[7] Bill Freeman. A Magical Place: Toronto Island and Its People. James Lorimer & Company Ltd., Publishers: Toronto, 1999, 26
[8] “Civic employe without duties,” Toronto Daily Star, Friday, Feb. 23, 1906, Page 2.
[9] “WM. Ward to Lose Place,” Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, March 6, 1906, Page 2.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Toronto City Council Minutes, 1906, March 12, 1906, item 242, Page 77, Toronto City Archives. Report No. 9 of the Island Committee, June 4, 1906, Toronto City Council Appendix, 1906, page 773, Toronto City Archives.
[12] Report No. 4 of the Island Committee, Toronto City Council Appendix A, 1906, March 5, 1906, Page 255, Toronto City Archives. The matter had initially been moved at the Island Committee’s Feb. 22, 1906, meeting. Report No. 3 of the Island Committee, Feb. 22, 1906, Toronto City Council Appendix A, 1906, Page 191, Toronto City Archives.
[13] Report No. 10 of the Committee on Property, June 5, 1906, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix a, Page 757.
[14] “Big Schooner Wrecked, Gallant Rescue Made,” The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, August 24, 1906, Page 1.
[15] Report No 21 of the Board of Control, Toronto City Council, 1906, Appendix A, Sept. 7, 1906, Toronto City Archives.
[16] “City and Ward are advised to settle,” Toronto Daily Star, Thursday, March 12, 1908, Page 14.
[17] Bill Freeman. A Magical Place: Toronto Island and Its People. James Lorimer & Company Ltd., Publishers: Toronto, 1999, 26.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Bathing suits and Body Image

This shouldn't surprise me. Bathing suits and body image are clearly linked today and women face relentless pressure about conforming to a particular body image; a process encouraged and abetted by the weight loss industry. And yet I am a little surprised at how early that process started; as this advertisement from the Toronto Daily Star indicates, it was already well underway in 1908 and the bathing beauty as a model of appearance had already been established.

("Reduce your fat," Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, August 4, 1908, Page 10)

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Naughty bathers and genteel boaters

Rivers, boats and bathers rubbed shoulders in an awkward manner in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. If this Toronto Star article is to be believed bathing boys were an ongoing problem along Ontario’s Thames River;
Chatham’s Bad Boys
Swim out to Canoe Parties and Frighten the Ladies
Chatham, June 16—Canoeists on the Thames River have been caused a lot of annoyance lately by parties of boys.
 The youngsters have lately started a practice which is reported to be of a highly criminal nature, namely, some of their number go in bathing, and, when a canoe passes, they swim out to it and grasp hold of the sides, and in many cases nearly upset it. In fact, they make believe they are trying to do this, and have in many instances to be driven away by a strenuous use of the paddle on the heads of the recalcitrant boys. This has happened on several occasions, in one instance the canoe being loaded with young ladies and gentlemen the former of whom were nearly frightened into hysterics by the efforts of the lads.
 Pleasure seekers on the river have always put up with a certain amount of trouble with boys possessing evil inclinations but at present the matter has become unbearable. It is thought that it is high time that the boys were given a thorough lesson and convinced of the painful results that follow erring ways.[1]
The Thames wasn’t the only place where men and boys were up to no good. The Humber River routinely had encounters between bathers and boaters. A letter writer who went under the name “Decency” described in the Toronto Daily Star on Aug. 23, 1904 a recent Sunday stroll down by the Humber and the "number of men (?)" that he saw bathing there. The use of the question mark neatly illustrating his view on how their behaviour disrupted their status as men in his view.
“I observed about twenty well-matured men in swimming without bathing suits. While standing there a gasoline launch came up the river with two ladies and two gentlemen aboard. Some of the bathers, either from their absentmindedness or an inclination to vulgarly expose themselves, did not even get in the water, and, to make matters worse, the party in the launch were compelled to put up with such indecent remarks as “Come in and have a swim; the water’s fine,” and others unnecessary to mention to convince the police authorities that these baths should be compelled to do two things—equip themselves with bathing suits, and learn to mind their own business. In addition to the parties in the gasoline launch there were many other ladies and their escorts around the bathing place, and I think it would be in their interests if a policeman in plain clothes were commissioned to pay a visit to this spot.”[2]

Periodically the police did step in. In a June 25, 1905 article, The Toronto Daily Star noted that two constables visited the area and “secured 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.”[3] It was an ongoing battle, however, and the day of the undressed bathers was far from over in the Humber River. A story the next year noted the York County Council was again receiving complaints of people in the Humber on Sunday not wearing their bathing suits.[4]

Class, gender, technology and the use of waterways and landscapes all collide neatly in these little vignettes. Had the bathers in Decency’s Humber scene minded their manners, kept quiet and ducked in the water when encountered by their betters they might have blended into the landscape and the people in the boats would have pretended to ignore them. But instead they used their naked bodies to take possession of the landscape and actively drew the attention of the boaters. In Decency’s mind they needed to be brought to heel.



[1] “Chatham’s Bad Boys,” The Toronto Daily Star, June 16, 1906, Page 5.
[2] “Nude Bathing in the Humber,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, Aug. 23, 1904, Page 4.
[3] “A Raid on the Humber Bathers,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, June 26, 1905, Page 1.
[4] “Severe Censure on South York Schools,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, June 13, 1906, Page 11.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Made it out of a Postage Stamp.

In the 1950s, newspapers were titillated by the scantier bathing suits that could be found on women in North America.
Or rather, in the 1930s, newspapers were titillated by the bathing suits that could be found on women in North America.
No, wait, we'll get to all of that eventually. At this point we're still fascinated by what's happening to bathing suits in 1900. Or at least the Toronto Star was; it ran a series of cartoons poking fun at the subject in 1900. The Star seems less critical and more bemused by the changes that were clearly occurring in how women could be seen at the beach. It's worth keeping in mind that while women could suit up and enjoy visiting resorts out of town, many of the swimming spaces in Toronto in 1900 were either male only by design or by practice. But that was changing rapidly.


("It certainly was cute," The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, June 23, 1900, Page 11)


("There were others," The Toronto Daily Star, Friday, August 3, 1900, Page 4.)

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Spit take

Meet Bylaw 4358, passed by Toronto’s City Council on April 11, 1904: A Bylaw to prevent spitting on sidewalks, and in public buildings and street cars.
The bylaw stated, “No person shall spit upon any public sidewalk which is upon a highway, or in any passageway, stairway or entrance to any building used by the public, or in any room, hall or building to which the public resort, or in any street car or other public conveyance, except into a proper receptacle.”

It went on to list charges of $1 for each offence or up to three days in the common goal of the City of Toronto. While the bylaw was passed in April, people were given until June 1 to get ready for the new spitting regime.

Full disclosure; I giggled when I first came across this in the Toronto City Council minutes. (Most of the information that follows can be found directly in the City Council minutes/appendices, but I have to thank James Fraser, an archivist at the Toronto City Archives who, about 30 years ago, put together a file of the relevant city council entries and communications surrounding Bylaw 4358. Fraser called the file “Great Expectorations” and my sense is that he had a giggle too when he was putting it together.) Other people who have looked at bylaws around spitting have typically taken a similar light-hearted view, including this openfile.ca blog.

But as it turns out there’s nothing unusual about creating bylaws to police spitting and the practice isn’t limited to the early twentieth century. The city of Kenora was discussing adding spitting regulations to its bylaws in 2010.[1] And Toronto’s bylaw isn’t just a chuckle worthy look into the past. Revised and adjusted most recently in 1994, it’s still on the books as bylaw 1994-0706 and similar bylaws exist across Canada.

The official move towards regulating spit, or expectoration as they called it, appears to have started on Jan. 12, 1903 when Ald. Noble moved that the city petition the Ontario Legislature for power to enact a bylaw “prohibiting expectoration on sidewalks, street cars and other public places.”[2] The province came through with the amendment on June 27, 1903; granting cities, towns, and villages the ability to prohibit spitting on “sidewalks and pavements, and in the passage ways, stairways, and entrances to buildings used by the public, and in rooms, halls, buildings, and places to which the public resort, streets cars, public conveyances and in such other public places as the council may by such by law designate.”[3] Toronto and other communities across Ontario now had the critical tools they needed to deal with spitting. The amendment appears to have given communities the ability to outlaw spitting entirely within their boundaries and the use of the term “pavement” suggests a neat little built form/natural environment divide for where spitting might be allowed and where it would not be. However, Toronto and other cities that adopted such bylaws were a little more nuanced in where they restricted spitting.

Armed with the new legislation, Toronto introduced its spitting bylaw on Jan. 25, 1904, and from there it worked its way through the system of committees and council meetings before being passed in April.[4]

Watching the conversation about spitting in Toronto, Ormsby Graydon, London’s city engineer took it upon himself to suggest that the city give people a chance to get acquainted with the new law and hand out warning cards to violators to tell them that charges could follow.[5] Graydon noted that in London, Ontario, the police and street car conductors doled out the cards in advance. Toronto’s council approved similar cards which read, “Please to not spit on the sidewalks, in street cars or in any public building. City bylaw no. 4358 forbids this”[6]  London’s cards listed a potential $50 fine. When Toronto was drafting its bylaw the city council did consider a similar $50 fine or up to six months in jail but then reduced the fine to a more modest $1 or three days.[7]

Historians have looked at bylaws like this and considered them to be part of a broader effort to control the working class.[8] We certainly get hints of that from the bylaws supporters. The Toronto branch of the National Council of Women of Canada threw its support behind the spitting bylaw in a letter penned April 15, 1904. In a two-paragraph summary of its support the group listed sanitary concerns, called “expectoration”—they wouldn’t even write the word “spitting”—an “offensive habit” and hoped “other municipalities will follow this commendable example in the effort to extirpate the objectionable practice from our cities.”[9] The group’s eyes seem focused on the people doing the spitting rather than simply the act of spitting itself.

Writing on behalf of the Toronto Medical Society in a letter dated April 9, 1904, Dr. A. McPhedran led off with a look at the health issues involved in spitting: “The danger from spitting on the side-walks is much greater than the general public have any conception of. The material adheres to ladies’ dresses, and to everyone’s boots, is carried into homes, there becomes dry and is shaken into the atmosphere, and is a dangerous means of infection to all in the household, and all households, no matter how well kept, are liable to this danger.”[10] Spittle was a working class product that could make its way into the most well kept of homes. McPhedran goes on to add, “The practice of spitting in such places is a very objectionable one from any point of view, and the public only need to be educated in order to have it stopped.”

Not everyone was enamored with the city’s efforts to control spitting or as convinced about the medical soundness of the rationale for doing so. In a letter published in the Star on April 6, 1904, William Haslam of 573 King Street, critiqued the impending bylaw as both impracticable and an “extreme degree of police interference with habits necessary to individual comfort and cleanliness.” Haslam went on to write that the bylaw was being based on a shoddy medical interpretation of the hazards of microbes in spit but even if the spittle held such a threat, he argued that forcing people to swallow their expectoration ad nauseum might harm them by filling them with filth.[11] Haslam’s letter amounts to a defence of people’s freedom of embodiment and a skeptical rebuttal of McPhedran’s medical suggestions.

As the advice from London suggests, Toronto wasn’t the only place to take on spitting. Montreal, Hamilton, and Brantford, to name a few, were all discussing spitting or passing bylaws to prohibit it.[12] And London, which had passed its bylaw in the spring of 1904, was already starting to charge people; three people were hauled into court on July 5 and while the judge let them off with a warning, he said the next batch in front of him would face fines.[13]

Australian pianist Charles R. Sweet was playing in Toronto about a month after the spitting bylaw had been passed and joked about it with the crowd between sets, noting, “that in Melbourne, Australia, the by-law requires the pedestrian not to “expectorate” on the “footway,” whereas at Sidney(sic) it says, “Do not spit on the sidewalk.” So that … if you want to expectorate, you have to go to Sydney, but if you only want to spit, you have to go to Melbourne.”[14] Sweet sets up a fun little hierarchy for the terms.

Clearly concerns about spitting were not limited to North America; it was a (not surprisingly, I suppose) global issue. But lest we think that Toronto was a laid back spitting sort of town, the term “expectorate” was used while the bylaw was working its way through council and only turned into “spitting” when the bylaw itself was written. It seems it was one thing to legislate against “spitting” but quite another to debate the matter using such an uncouth term.

By July the bylaw was being enforced in Toronto, although no one had actually been charged yet and police said they would warn people and only target aggressive spitters who persisted in the habit. An unnamed police inspector interviewed by the newspaper said, “Haven’t you noticed the difference already? … The by-law had a good effect, and the sidewalks are much cleaner than they were formerly. This is especially noticeable on Sundays.” Another officer went on to add that the bylaw was successfully redirecting spit from the sidewalk to the street, where spitting was still legal.[15] The latter point raises an interesting question regarding spitting bylaw enforcement; presumably the issue was where the spit landed not where it was produced. One could spit from the sidewalk provided the spittle landed on the street. The city was spatializing spit or, dare I say, creating zones for it. I find that interesting because during the same period the city was creating a bylaw to regulate residential and industrial zones.[16]

By 1908, the anti-spitting regime seemed to be well entrenched in Ontario. A Toronto Star story noted that two men, named Larshelle and Dixon were caught spitting in Port Arthur, Ontario, and charged: “They pleaded guilty in court and were given the choice of paying costs or spending ten days in jail. They hadn’t the cash and to jail they went.”[17]

As I noted, historians have seen efforts at class control as being at the heart of such legislation. Larshelle and Dixon probably felt there was a class aspect at work when they were shunted off to jail after not being able to pay their fine. And in the very same report looking at spitting the city’s Board of Health was also recommending the city ask the province for permission for “the regulation, and inspection at any time, of lodging houses, tenements, laundries, etc., the attention of the Board having been directed by the Medical Health Officer to the much over-crowded and unsanitary condition of certain premises, and the necessity in many cases of a night inspection to properly determine the conditions.”[18] So we have to read these as being part of larger concerns about the risks involved with urban bodies, whether from how they lived to how they behaved, to what they did as they strolled down the sidewalk. There’s no reason to believe that things have changed; class, race and ethnicity are in play whenever behaviour is regulated as this 2001 story from Now Magazine, in which a black man relates an encounter with police after spitting into the street, suggests.

But I don’t think we need to end the discussion there. While it’s never clearly stated, I’d suggest part of the incentive for the spitting bylaw was probably the popularity of chewing tobacco at the time. We get hints of this potential rationale in the bylaw’s wording when it clarifies, “except into a proper receptacle” by which, I would suggest, they meant a spittoon. The appreciation for the cleaner streets expressed by Toronto’s police could also have mean that they were seeing fewer gobs of tobacco on the sidewalks. In that sense, the spitting bylaw could be considered a predecessor to our current smoking bylaws; the difference being that people were expelling spit rather than smoke.

Technology also has an impact in this discussion; putting so many people together on the streetcar pushed issues like spitting into, no pun intended, the public eye. Street cars and public transit are one of the primary focal points of this legislation and are held up as the measure of its success.

Gender matters as well. The Toronto Local of the National Council of Women of Canada weighed in, putting its moral authority behind the project. McPhedran specifically mentioned the likelihood of women dragging spit into buildings as one of the rationales for the bylaw; a statement that suggest both that women shouldn’t have to deal with spit on the ground and that they were out in public moving around in such a way as to be at risk of encountering it. Similarly when Toronto’s police commented on the effectiveness of the bylaw, they held up cleaner sidewalks on Sunday as being one of its accomplishments. I would suggest the unspoken beneficiaries were couples or families out for a promenade; an example of class and gender working together. McPhedran’s comments also suggest the growing power of the medical authority, though Haslam’s counter comments also indicate how that authority did not come without doubt or criticism.

And, of course, I love the spatial nature of this. Spitting isn’t meant to disappear entirely, but we’re now zoning where it can and should take place; just as we zone where people should go to the washroom, where they should bathe or where industry should go.




[1] Reg Clayton, “Spitting ban bylaw,” The Kenora Daily Minor and News, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2010, 8:56 a.m. (Accessed on Saturday, Nov. 17, 2012.) http://www.kenoradailyminerandnews.com/2010/08/04/spitting-ban-bylaw
[2] Toronto City Council Minutes 1903, Item 74, Page 20, Jan. 12, 1903. See also Toronto City Council Appendix A, Board of Control Report No. 4, March 6, 1903.
[3] Ontario Statue 3 Edward VII Chapter 10 Sec. 110, amending Section 553 of the Municipal Act, Item 12, Great Expectorations file, Unusual Bylaws, Vertical File, Toronto City Archives.
[4] City Council Minutes 1904, Item 113, Page 31, Jan. 25, 1904, Toronto City Archives.
[5] Ormsby Graydon, city engineer, London, Ont., letter dated March 20, Great Expectorations file, Unusual Bylaws, Vertical File, Toronto City Archives. The letter is mentioned in the City Council Minutes, 1904, Item 249, Page 94, April 11, 1904.
[6] City Council Minutes, 1904, Item 274, Page 102, April 11, 1904, Toronto City Archives.
[7] City Council Minutes, 1904, Item 236, page 86, March 28, 1904. Also see, James Fraser, Great Expectorations file, Unusual Bylaws, Vertical File, Toronto City Archives.
[8] Helen Boritch and John Hagan, “Crime and the Changing Forms of Class Control: Policing Public Order in "Toronto the Good,"1859-1955,” Social Forces, Vol. 66, No. 2 (Dec., 1987), pp. 307-335. Page 325. I mention Britch and Hagan because they touch on Toronto and spitting directly, but there’s a large historiography that deals with issues of urban reform at the turn of the century, including Mariana Valverde’s ridiculously good The Age of Light, Soap, and Water: Moral Reform in English Canada, 1885-1925.
[9] Margaret E. Riddell, Toronto Local Council letter to city council, April 15, 1904, Item 17, Great Expectorations file, Unusual Bylaws, Vertical File, Toronto City Archives.
[10] Dr. A. McPhedran, April 9, 1904, Item 12, Great Expectorations file, Unusual Bylaws, Vertical File, Toronto City Archives.
[11] William Haslam, “The Spitting Bogie,” The Toronto Daily Star, Wednesday, April 6, 1904, Page 6.
[12] “The Spitting Nuisance,” The Toronto Daily Star, Monday, July 21, 1902, page 8. “To Stop Spitting,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, June 7, 1904, page 6 (The Hamilton story specifically mentions that the bylaw will be targeted at spitting on streetcars.)  “Reforms in Brantford,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, September 1, 1903, page 3.
[13] “No spitting in London,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 5, 1904, Page 7.
[14] “Music and Drama,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, May 31, 1904, Page 8.
[15] “Cleaner Sidewalks,” The Toronto Daily Star, Tuesday, July 5, 1904, Page 2.
[16] Board of Control Report No. 21, June 24, 1904, City Council Appendix A, Page 697. Toronto City Archives.
[17] “Spitting is costly,” The Toronto Daily Star, Saturday, July 4, 1908. Page 18.
[18] Adam Lynd, M.D., chair, Board of Health Report #3, March 4, 1903. Toronto City Council Appendix A, 1904, Toronto City Archives.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Purifying the Bay

This is from Toronto Mayor O. A. Howland’s inaugural address in 1902. Since the late nineteenth century Toronto’s mayor’s had fallen into the habit of starting each year with an address to set what they hoped would be their agenda. Howland had much to say about the waterfront in 1902. The breaks in the text are my addition.

We have a quasi undertaking from the representatives of the Government at Ottawa that if we will do our share in cleansing the Bay by the construction of a proper trunk sewer, the Government will come to our aid and do its proper share in the deepening and improvement of our harbor. If they fulfil that, it means an expenditure of Government money in the neighbourhood of half a million to three-quarters of a million of dollars, and the perfecting of our harbor and our dockage facilitates, so that they will stand highest on the whole of Lake Ontario, and equally high with any place on the whole chain of St. Lawrence waters. 

The purification of the Bay will restore that beautiful sheet of water to its original attractiveness, healthfulness and utility. Old residents of Toronto can remember that the playground of Toronto. The training ground for the muscle and blood of young Toronto was not the Island or some distant lake, it was the waters of Toronto Bay. They launched on them without fear and without discomfort from the harbor slips. 

We know that is now impossible. We know, apart altogether from traffic conditions, that most offensive conditions greet the oarsmen on those waters. With our large athletic population with the athletic advantages a great water front offers, it is no small object, the purification of that Bay back to its original conditions, while the sanitary necessity is pressing itself upon us continually. We must remember the effect also upon the probable attractiveness of Toronto to travelers and to new residents. They are now greeted in the most offensive way at what ought to be our beautiful and attractive and commodious water front. Remove that, and we have an attractive reception for every visitor, and something that will be remembered by prospective residents. 

The improvement of the remainder of the water front couples itself with those projects. Part of the harbor project is the creation of a great system of dockage and opportunities for factory development which will be attractive to new industries on a large scale. Plans are being made, under directions given last year, for the railway connections with the east end of the City and the new proposed dockage accommodation. The west end of the water front of our City more naturally offers itself for decorative and recreative purposes, and plans of that kind are being matured looking forward to establishing one of the most beautiful drives in North America along the shore past the Garrison Commons, the Exhibition Grounds and into Humber Bay. In connection with those projects, it may be necessary to take up the permanent question of the re-arrangement of the railway tracks at the west end of the city, so that the danger and expense of level crossings may be entirely done away with.[1]
 
There’s so much going on here. It seems like the potential for industrial development and the federal government money for that purpose is the carrot and stick being used to convince Toronto deal with the fact that sewage is still being dumped into Toronto Bay.

It’s interesting to see Toronto and its bay being held up as the center of natural invigoration rather than the point that people escape from. It was a noteworthy statement at a time when the ring of recreation areas around Toronto, the Muskoka and other areas, were being widely advertised in local newspapers. 

I’m also intrigued with the notion of people being “now greeted in the most offensive way at what ought to be our beautiful and attractive and commodious water front. Remove that, and we have an attractive reception for every visitor, and something that will be remembered by prospective residents.” In 1902 it might have seemed that the bay was still the city’s front yard with the expectation that people would arrive by boat or ferry. The reality was probably that most arrived by train or road even then, and hardly saw the bay. Today the bay seems both front yard and back yard to the city. For people who take a ferry to the island or who boat on Lake Ontario, the bay is unquestionable the city’s front yard; a place where the city preens and reflects its modernity in the waters. But for people who do none of these things, what role does the bay or Lake Ontario play; are they front yard or back?




[1] O.A Howland, Mayor’s Inaugural Address, City Council Appendix C, Page 1, Toronto City Archives. The address was delivered Jan. 13, 1902.