The Worts and Gooderham windmill on the York (Toronto) shoreline, circa 1832.
Oh, that pioneer windmill — its use was abandoned when the company turned to steam power, and the windmill was demolished in 1858. In 1954 a scaled-down version of the old windmill was erected near the corner of Front and Parliament streets using bricks from a razed structure of the same period. This windmill, too, was destroyed, having been built where a support for the new elevated Gardiner Expressway was planned.
March 2, 2003
On the Toronto Waterfront
Over time what had started out as a rather simple flour mill and windmill operated by William Gooderham and his son, James, evolved into one of the largest distilleries in North America. Many of the firm’s original buildings are now undergoing restoration for a number of new uses.
Interestingly, the original Worts and Gooderham windmill served another purpose, one that bore no relation to either milling or distilling. It formed the eastern end of an imaginary line drawn on an 1832 map of the harbour by city officials connecting the site of the old distillery windmill with the ruins of the French fort (Fort Rouillé) that stood for less than a decade steps west of the present-day Bandshell in Exhibition Place (and coincidentally steps east of the new wind turbine).
The boundary resulted from concerns that wharves would be extended farther and farther into the bay to take advantage of additional loading and off-loading space. This extra space would translate into additional income for the wharf owner while severely inconveniencing the hundreds of ships arriving and departing the busy Port of Toronto each sailing season. To offset this possibility the Windmill Line would delineate the maximum southerly limit of any wharf constructed from the mainland out into Toronto Bay.
The original 1832 Windmill Line was extended farther south into the bay on several occasions with the final adjustment made in 1893.
As the rules on how far south into the bay Toronto’s waterfront could be extended changed, so, too, did the look of the central waterfront. In the foreground is an area of newly reclaimed land created by dumping hundreds of tons of fill at the foot of Yonge Street.
The same view a decade later. Large portions of the newly reclaimed land have been paved over and new streets such as Fleet and Harbour (each now part of Lake Shore Boulevard), lower Yonge Street, and Queen’s Quay opened. The new skyscraper in town is the recently completed Bank of Commerce Building on the south side of King Street, a block west of Yonge.
Looking north on Yonge Street from Toronto Bay in 2002.
Each change resulted in the filling in of the water lots between wharves and the creation of acres of new land along the water’s edge. In 1925 the historic Windmill Line was superseded by the Toronto Harbour Commission’s new Harbourhead Line, which defines the waterfront configuration of today.
March 9, 2003
Send in the Cavalry
John Marteison’s Second to None is a wonderful book published by Robin Brass Studios. In an easy-to-read text accompanied by dozens of rare and contemporary photographs, it details the fascinating history of the Governor General’s Horse Guards, one of Canada’s proudest military regiments. The regiment traces its lineage back to the earliest days of Ontario when in 1798 John Button, an American-born Loyalist, arrived in the Province of Upper Canada (Ontario). He settled in what is now the Town of Markham, where the name of the pretty little community of Buttonville continues to honour his memory.
Button established the province’s first cavalry unit, which served with distinction along the Niagara frontier during the War of 1812 as well as in the defence of Toronto (then called York) during the American invasion in the spring of 1813. It was during the Rebellion of 1837 that Button’s Troop joined forces with another local militia group under the command of George Taylor Denison, the progenitor of one of Toronto’s most influential families. A host of Denison names, birthplaces, and local homesteads is recorded in the titles of many city streets: Bellevue, Ossington, Dovercourt (correctly spelled Dover Court), Rusholme, Major, Robert, Lippincott, and little Rolyat (Taylor spelled backwards).
In 1853 these two cavalry units were combined to form the First Regiment York Light Dragoons. In 1866 royal assent was given to another change resulting in the name Governor General’s Bodyguard. Seventy years later this regiment amalgamated with the Mississauga Horse (another proud city regiment that had been gazetted in 1904) to become the Governor General’s Horse Guards. During its existence, in addition to service in the War of 1812 and the rebellious times of 1837, the regiment was active in the Fenian Raids of 1866, the 1885 North-West Rebellion, the South African War, two world wars, and the Korean conflict for which the Horse Guards recruited 223 men, the most of any Canadian militia unit.
Members of the Governor General’s Bodyguard parade at the Armouries on the east side of University Avenue, circa 1912. The name Armoury Street reminds us of this once-proud building through which thousands marched on their way overseas to defend freedom. Regrettably, the historic old structure was demolished in 1963.
* * *
That shuffling noise you’re hearing is the sound of thousands of Toronto Maple Leafs fans either getting on or getting off the bandwagon. One day the team’s a winner, going all the way. The next day, they’re a bunch of bums. But love ’em or hate ’em, they’re ours.
For me, a Leafs fan since that first game in 1941 played just days after I was born at old Grace Hospital on Bloor Street, it’s hard to believe that in such a hockey-mad community as Toronto one would have to be pushing 40 to have even been around when the city last won the coveted Stanley Cup. Nevertheless, hope springs eternal, and yes, I’ll say it, this is our year. Or maybe it will be next year, or the next . . .
Actually, March 16, the day this column first appeared, is an important date in the long and illustrious history of the Toronto Maple Leafs. On that date the team under coach Howie Meeker set a record that still stands. It was during one of those good old-fashioned Saturday night games when the National Hockey League was still made up of a mere half-dozen teams (and you could actually see the players’ faces) that our guys plastered the Rangers from New York 14–1. That was (and still is) the most goals scored by a Leafs team in one game. As great a feat as that was, it didn’t help. The team finished fifth that year and out of the playoffs.
Nevertheless, here are some names from that March 16, 1957, game that will bring back happy hockey memories for many. Hat tricks against the Rangers’ goalie “Gump” Worsley were scored by Brian Cullen and Sid Smith, with Tod Sloan and Ron Stewart scoring a pair each. Singles went to Al MacNeil, George Armstrong, Dick Duff, and Rudy Migay. The only Leafs who didn’t score at least one point in that memorable game were Jim Thompson and goalie Ed Chadwick.
Ted “Teeder” Kennedy was the captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs team that scored 14 goals on March 16, 1957, the most scored by a Leafs squad in one game. Here he is hugging the Stanley Cup when the Leafs were 1950–51 champions. By the way, when was the last time you saw a Leaf hug the Stanley Cup? Or are you still waiting?
Here’s another interesting fact about that particular match. Its outcome was reported in one city newspaper a full day before any of the other papers told the story. Why? Because the Sunday following the game, March 17, 1957, was the day Toronto finally