by Terry Boyle
Scarborough
On August 4, 1793, Lady Simcoe, the wife of Lieutenant-Governor Simcoe, while riding in a boat on Lake Ontario, recorded this in her diary: “We came within sight of what is named in the map, The Highlands. The shore is extremely bold and has the appearance of Chalk Cliffs, appearing so well that we talked of building a summer residence there and calling it Scarborough.” Surveyor Augustus Jones was also particularly struck by the majesty of the cliffs and had earlier been responsible for naming the area “The Highlands.”
On August 27 of that year, on the occasion of the naming of York, the great grey cliffs to the east, so similar to those of the English Yorkshire town, became known as Scarborough.
The Scarborough Bluffs run along Lake Ontario for approximately 9.5 kilometres (six miles). These cliffs contain a vivid record, in the uppermost 60 metres (200 feet), of the last stages of the Great Ice Age. Under layers of glacial till are 45 metres (150 feet) of sediments called the Scarborough beds. They are made up of 18 metres (60 feet) of stratified sand and 27 metres (90 feet) of peaty clay. The clay area contains some wood, leaves, mosses, and the remains of 72 species of beetles, all but two of which are now extinct.
Jonathan Gates was one of the early pioneers here. In 1815 he cleared the land and settled east of the gully that descends to the lake south of the junction of Kingston and Bellamy Roads. Gates wasn’t the first person to settle in the area. Only as recently as 1956, when the Miller Paving Company turned up some skeletons, has the earlier settlement history come to light. From 1956–1958 the Royal Ontario Museum ethnologist, Walter Kenyon, excavated the site and charted a village of about one acre in size. Radio-carbon testing showed that the village had been occupied around 1,125 A.D. Evidence found during the dig suggested that it belonged to a pre-Iroquoian group called Glen Meyer. Within the palisade area, archaeologists traced the outline of five multiple-family longhouses. They ranged from 11.5 metres to 18 metres (38 to 60 feet) in length and from six metres to eight metres (20 to 27 feet) in width. A steam-shovel operator cutting into Taboris Hill, at the east side of Bellamy Road north of Lawrence Avenue, exposed an ancient Native burial pit. Two sites, together containing the bones of 472 people, were found. In a solemn ceremony on October 20, 1956, these bones were reburied by the chiefs of the Six Nations.
In the years following 1793, many shrewd government officials and army officers of York obtained generous grants of land in the Township of Scarborough. These landowners were speculators and wanted the sites for future development, or resale at a profit.
In 1796 the highlands of Scarborough caught the eye of a Scottish stone mason by the name of David Thomson. He had come from Dumfriesshire by the way of Niagara and was employed in the construction of the new government buildings of York. Thompson searched beyond the Don River for a home for his family. When he travelled 20 kilometres (12 miles) on a Native trail that wound northeast from the 40 houses on the shore of the bay called York, and 4.5 kilometres (three miles) back from the bluffs, he found his land of promise on the banks of Highland Creek. There he built a lone log cottage not far from the present-day Scarborough Hospital.
Down by the bluffs, at the foot of what is now Markham Road, William Cornell moved his family from the schooner, on which they had lived for a summer, to the heights, where he built a home. In the course of two years, he cleared and planted Scarborough’s first orchard. During the winter he travelled to Kingston to purchase millstones in exchange for a fine span of colts and returned by sled to Highland Creek. There he built the first grist and saw mill.
Another courageous Scarborough pioneer was Sarah Ashbridge, a widow who arrived at York from Philadelphia, in 1793. Together with her two sons and three daughters, she settled near the mouth of the Don River. She later began clearing the 300 acres of granted land that extended north from the bluffs, east of Midland Avenue.
In 1803 Stephen Perril built the first brick house in Scarborough. Around 1834 a carpenter named Thomas Adams, who had arrived from Vermont in 1808, built a sailing vessel named the Mary Ann, at the mouth of Highland Creek. The vessel provided a tremendous service to the farmers for many years by transporting potash, grain, and shingles to York. On her return trip, the vessel brought flour, salt, and lime to the settlers of Scarborough. By 1830 the population of Scarborough had reached 135.
During the mid-1800s, three gristmills and 23 sawmills operated along the banks of Highland Creek and the Rouge River. Several villages flourished at the crossroads: Highland Creek, Malvern, Ellesmere, Wexford, and Woburn.
Scarborough was formally incorporated as a municipality in 1850. This was the beginning of local self-government. In 1910 Sir Eugene O’Keefe of the Toronto brewing family donated $500,000 for the construction of St. Augustine’s Seminary. A lovely site of more than 100 acres was acquired on the south side of Kingston Road, east of Midland Avenue. The imposing structure of St. Augustine’s Seminary, crowned by a lofty dome, still stands on the bluffs high above Lake Ontario. Opened and dedicated on August 28, 1913, the seminary has trained at least 1,400 students for the priesthood, over a 50-year span.
Following the end of the First World War, the suburbanization of southern Scarborough grew steadily. By 1925 the population of Scarborough was 15,783 and by 1930 it had grown to 18,351.
At the end of the Second World War, the influx of immigrants from Europe opened a new chapter in the history of Scarborough. Over the next 20 years, farm after farm was devoured by bulldozers. Row upon row of closely packed houses and towering apartment buildings sprang up like a new crop in a farmer’s field. Factories emerged and Scarborough quickly became Ontario’s fifth-largest municipality, with a population of 224,000.
One of the most extraordinary cultural sites in Scarborough is the Guild Inn. The Guild of All Arts, its original name, began in 1932 when Rosa and Spencer Clark purchased the central property of 40 acres, once known as Ranelagh Park, located on Eglington (the original spelling). They resided in the main building, originally constructed by Gerald Harold C. Bickford, to be his country home.
During the depression the Clarks hoped to help those difficult years by stimulating interest in the arts and crafts, and by indicating ways in which a livelihood might be gained. Within a year there were shops and studios with sculptures, batiks, weavings, tooled leather, ceramics, pewter and copper, wrought-iron, and woodwork. In succeeding years more of the fine and lively arts were added.
Attracted by the activities and the beauty of the setting, atop the Scarborough Bluffs, visitors arrived in increasing numbers. Dining facilities were added and guest rooms followed until the Guild facilities became a flourishing country inn, uniquely situated in the midst of its arts and crafts activities.
During the winter of 1942–43, the Guild became an official naval base, HMCS Bytown II, where the first group of Wrens were trained. Shortly thereafter, the entire property was requisitioned as a specialized military hospital. Used entirely for nervous disorders, it was known as “Scarborough Hall.”
When the Guild was returned to the Clarks in 1947, some of the craftsmen had established themselves elsewhere, some had been lost in the war, but others did return. The Guild’s guests and visitors came back in even greater numbers. It was necessary to expand the accommodation, and the Guild Inn name became even more widely known.
The grounds of the Guild are adorned with a collection of historic architecture. More than 40 years of effort by Spencer Clark has resulted in saving important fragments of about 60 buildings; items like Sir Frederick Banting’s fireplace and the original steps of Osgoode Hall can be found here. A grindstone, made in Ireland circa 1860, was brought to Canada by the Goldie family of Galt, and it is now on the grounds of the inn.
In 1978 the Metropolitan Toronto and Region Conservation Authority, acting for Metropolitan Toronto and the Provincial Government, purchased the Guild and its surrounding land.
Today the Guild Inn is closed. The future of the inn is overshadowed by thoughts of demolition and fu
ture development.
Scarborough, throughout its history, has been identified with the stark beauty of its bluffs. The silence, stillness, and the boldness here that caught the attention of Lady Simcoe and the fancy of David Thomson can still be seen and felt. If you walk beneath the cliffs along the lake, you can ignore the modern development around you and gaze over the lake and up the rough-hewn bluff even as our forefathers did. There is a day park there which, fortunately, makes this beautiful sight still available to everyone.
The Ghost of Tom Thomson — Canoe Lake, Algonquin Park
When a woman or man is murdered, their soul often remains the prisoner of circumstance. They remain in the vicinity of the crime. For nearly a century, the death of Tom Thomson on Canoe Lake, in 1917, has remained a mystery. Was it accidental drowning or was it murder? The existence of his spirit on Canoe Lake could support the theory of murder. You be the judge.
Tom Thomson was born in Claremont, Ontario, on August 4, 1877. At the age of two months, his parents, along with his six brothers and sisters, moved to the town of Leigh near Owen Sound on Georgian Bay.
As a young boy, he thoroughly enjoyed the outdoors, fishing in the bay, swimming, and boating. Tom had an ear for music and played the violin, mandolin, and coronet. He was also fascinated by birds, the colour of leaves in the autumn, and flowers in the spring. According to his brother, George, he paid keen attention to the seasonal movements of animals. As a teenager he was strongly built and stood almost two metres (six feet). Judge Little, author of The Tom Thomson Mystery, said, “Conversely he couldn’t find satisfaction in study; he neither finished high school nor completed a machinists’ apprenticeship started in his late teens at Owen Sound. He also attempted, but never completed, a business course at Chatham.”
It was in 1901, at the age of 24, that Tom took his first step toward a career in art. He followed his brothers, George and Henry, to Seattle, and there joined a commercial art studio where George had begun a year earlier. There Tom explored the territory of his imagination; there he began experimenting with crayon and then watercolour sketches. Some mention has been given to an unsuccessful romance with a woman while he was in Seattle, which fostered his return to Toronto, in 1905. There he found employment with a commercial art firm.
In 1911, he acquired a new job with the firm of Grip Limited. It was here that he made contact with other kindred spirits — J.E.H. MacDonald, Arthur Lismer, Fred Varley, Tom MacLean, A.Y. Jackson, and Frank Carmichael. At 34 Tom had begun to do sketches and oil paintings around Toronto, near the Don Valley, Rosedale Ravine, Scarlet Road, Old Mill, and Lambton.
In early 1912 Tom made his first trek to picturesque Canoe Lake in Algonquin Park. Between 1913 and 1917, he painted in Algonquin from spring break, up until late fall. The majority of his works were inspired here, including Northern River, West Wind, Spring Ice, Jack Pine, and Northern Lights. He painted 24 major canvasses and made more than 300 sketches.
Judge William T. Little quoted park ranger Mark Robinson — who first met Thomson in the spring of 1912 — in his book, The Tom Thomson Mystery: “One evening as I went to Canoe Lake, a couple of other rangers had joined me. It was quite routine in those days for park rangers to inspect all newcomers coming into the park because poaching was a major offence and a common occurrence in the park. As the train came in and drew to a stop, a tall, fine-looking man with a packsack on his back stepped off the train. The stranger inquired where he could find a place to stay, and where he could get a good bed and good eats. I explained to him that the Algonquin Hotel was a short distance away and Mowat Lodge was nearby. A man by the name of Fraser served good meals there and had excellent beds. Tom said ‘that was the place for him.’”
Mowat Lodge became his home away from home. In the ensuing years, Tom lived with the Frasers as one of the family. He even designed a cover for the Frasers’ booklet to announce Mowat Lodge. Tom was, nevertheless, a loner, and often canoed out into the lake and disappeared for days on end, painting and fishing to his heart’s content. He was an amiable man with rugged, lean, muscular good looks. Tom was well-liked by most who met him and enjoyed the company of others at the many parties in the area.
Fishing was a passion of Tom Thomson. No one could explain why a length of fishing line was wrapped 16–17 times around his left ankle at the time of his death.
Courtesy of Jane Loftus
Mark Robinson pointed out that Tom earned his way in the park by purchasing a guide license and subsequently led parties of fishermen through the park. He often tented on the east side of Canoe Lake, opposite Mowat Landing, just north of Hayhurst’s Point.
In April 1917 Tom arrived at Canoe Lake for the last time. On July 7 of that year, Tom and a number of local cottage residents met at George Rowe’s cabin for some merriment. Drinking at these social events usually led to storytelling. The topic of the war arose, and Tom spoke of his determination to join up as a fire ranger. His earlier attempts to join had been thwarted because of his flat feet. That night Martin Bletcher, who was considered to have a bad temperament, always exacerbated by heavy drinking, arrived at the party.
Judge Little wrote, “One young American cottager in particular, Martin Bletcher, who was of German background, was most outspoken regarding the progress of the war and his forecast of ultimate German supremacy. During the early summer Tom and Martin seemed to share a mutual dislike. These two men, during this Saturday evening, were actually prevented from coming to blows only by the good-natured efforts of the guides. On leaving the cabin before midnight, Bletcher hurled a final threat, ‘Don’t get in my way if you know what’s good for you.’”
A love triangle can be a source of great pain and jealousy. Secret love is even more entangling and complex. Winnie Trainor was, by all accounts, a beautiful, mysterious woman. Hidden to most, Winnie and Tom shared a secret love. Judge Little said, “Not until Miss Trainor’s death in 1962 has it been known, authoritatively, that Thomson intended to marry her. Did Martin Bletcher resent Tom’s visits to Winnie Trainor, just next door to him, during those long summer evenings? Did Tom resent Martin’s presence so close to Miss Trainor’s cottage?”
Terence Trainor McCormick, the nephew and beneficiary of Miss Trainor’s estate, once stated, about the letters written between Winnie and Tom, “... the correspondence gave undisputable evidence that Tom and my Aunt were engaged to be married.” Their covenant remained a secret known only to them.
On July 8, 1917, it was a rather dull and wet morning. Shannon Fraser and Tom threw a line in the water at the dam between Joe and Canoe Lakes. Mark Robinson caught sight of the men. Tom waved to Mark and called, “Howdy, Mark.” Mark acknowledged the greeting. It would be the last time he saw Tom alive.
Tom returned to his quarters, where he gathered up his tackle box and a loaf of bread and some bacon from Mowat Lodge. He bid farewell to Shannon as his canoe cut a path across the waters of Canoe Lake. Shannon watched Tom disappear past Little Wapomeo Island, only 1.5 kilometres (one mile) away.
The following day Martin Bletcher casually remarked to some guests at Mowat Lodge that he had spotted an upturned canoe between Little and Big Wapomeo Islands. Apparently, he and his sister had not stopped, but continued on for an afternoon fishing excursion. On their return trip, the canoe had disappeared.
No one seemed too concerned about such a report. It was a strange reaction by such a small community of residents, who all knew the boats on the lake. Judge Little added, “Furthermore, Canoe Lake residents considered it strange that Martin Bletcher could not have recognized Thomson’s grey-green canoe with a metal strip on the keel side; it was known to everyone on Canoe Lake at the time.”
Charlie Scrim found the craft the following morning, behind Big Wapomeo Island. Mark Robinson said, “Contrary to some people who may tell you the canoe was floating right side up, there was none of his equipment in the canoe, except his portaging paddle, which was lashed in position for carrying, and the ground sheet with bread and bacon in the bow
section. There were no fishing poles, no gear; even his small axe was gone.”
Robinson immediately reported to Park Superintendent Bartlett who authorized a search. Tom’s brother, George, was contacted. He arrived at Canoe Lake on July 12. Dynamite was exploded in the lake without the desired results — no body surfaced.
The sharp eyes and minds of guides George Rowe and Charlie Scrim noted that Tom’s own working paddle was missing. Especially strange was how the portaging paddle was lashed in a position to portage. It had been knotted in a most unorthodox way. Only an inexperienced canoeist would fashion such a knot. Thomson was an expert canoeist and outdoorsman.
On July 14 George Thomson gathered up a number of Tom’s sketches and caught the train back to New York. He felt there was little he could do.
On the morning of July 15, 1917, Dr. G.W. Howland spotted something lying low in the water by Hayhurst Point on the east shore of Canoe Lake. At first he thought it was a loon. At the same time, George Rowe and Lowrie Dickson were paddling down the middle of the lake when they saw the doctor hailing them. The canoeists aimed for the object. It was Tom. He was dead.
They towed the body to a campsite on Big Wapomeo, approximately 300 metres (100 yards) ahead. There at Big Wap, a campout halfway down the west side of the lake, they tied the body to tree roots in a shallow. The guides then notified Dr. Howland and Mark Robinson, who contacted Superintendent Bartlett.
Dr. A.E. Ranney, a coroner living in North Bay, was notified. He did not arrive on the train the next day. Robinson was frantic and informed his superintendent that something needed to be done with the body. It was not right to leave it in the blazing sun. The superintendent told Mark to have Dr. Howland examine the body. Dr. Howland was a Toronto medical doctor and a professor of neurology at the University of Toronto who was vacationing on Wapomeo Island. Mark then ordered a casket and rough box for the burial.