Better late than never: The Dundas bridge arrives in Guelph

There is an old expresson about a bridge too far. However, a bridge can also be too late, as suggested by the telegram sent by Donald Guthrie, then Guelph's solicitor, to the G. & J. Brown Manufacturing Company of Belleville (Mercury, 2 February 1892):

To G. & J. Brown, Mfg. Co., Belleville.
Do you intend to furnish the bridge to the city, and when. Answer immediately.
Don. Guthrie,
City Solicitor.

Reply:
D. Guthrie.
City Solicitor:
Your bridge will be shipped this week without fail.
W.H. Lee.

The City of Guelph had contracted the previous July with the Belleville Bridge Company (as G. & J. were also known) for an up-to-date iron bridge over the Speed River, to replace its venerable but also decrepit predecessor as a vital link between the Royal City and destinations like Hamilton to its south. Having dismantled the old span and installed piers and footings for the new one, Guelphites waited impatiently for the star of the show to arrive.

The move was not without controversy. For one thing, the contract had been let by the council without competition, prompting accusations of shady dealing. A $2,000 contract was a large sum to pay out without tenders. Also, several observers were concerned that the stonework for the bridge's foundation was not sufficient, and no city inspectors were reviewing the work. Would the bridge be set up only to sink into the Speed?

Would it arrive at all? Delivery was expected in December 1891 but the month passed with no bridge in sight. Even in the days before Amazon, this sort of delay was not acceptable. As the end of January, 1892, came into view, the Mercury editor wrote (26 January), tongue in cheek, that residents of Brooklyn, the part of town south of the Speed, was considering separating from Guelph and instituting a ferry service across the river. In general, grumbling about having to detour into town via Gow's Bridge was getting louder and the city fathers were feeling the heat; thus the telegram.

Happily, the ironwork for the bridge arrived in February and the new Dundas Bridge was open for traffic by the end of the month. The link knitted back together the sinews of the town that were strained in its absence.

("George Sleeman, 190?." Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-4-0-0-2.)

A fitting test of the new structure was soon made by Mayor George Sleeman, owner of the Sleeman brewery. Five dray loads of ale bound for Toronto were parked on the span in order to assess its performance. An admirably detailed account of the event was recorded in the Mercury (2 March 1892):

The horses, drays and their contents were weighed on the market scales, and are as follows: 1st load, horses, 3,110, load, 8,845; 2nd, 3,230, 8,930; 3rd, 3,375, 8,965; 4th, 3,405, 9,690; 5th, 3,220, 8,855, making a total of 61,025 pounds. The drays were then driven to the bridge, and placed on the centre span, where the test was witnessed by about 200 people. Including the people standing around and everything else, there was about 32 tons weight on this span. City Engineer Tout made the test and reported that there was only a deflection of 3/16ths of an inch on this span, which of course is the main one. The five dray loads were then driven over the bridge at a quick pace in file and the vibration was very slight.

The bridge passed with flying colours! If only all such tests of public infrastructure could be conducted with wagonloads of beer.

The bridge was later recorded in a postcard published by A.B. Petrie, postmarked in 1909.

("Brock Road, Guelph, Ont.," published by A.B. Petrie, ca. 1910.)

The image is not the most aesthetically pleasing one ever printed but it does show the layout of the bridge from a traveller's perspective, facing south. The three iron arches are visible on either side. To the right, a sidewalk with a high fence can be seen while, to the left, a water conduit used to supply city water to the Agricultural College on the hill is visible below the railing. The deck is smattered with horse dung.

Its connection to the south had always been a very important one for Guelph. Farmers in lots south of the city needed a bridge to bring their produce to its market when the time came, while shipping goods to and from Hamilton and Dundas was crucial for the economic goals of the settlement. So, the first Dundas Bridge (as it was often called at the time) was built in 1828, only one year after the foundation of Guelph by John Galt. This bridge was constructed under the supervision of Jehu Clark (sometimes spelled "Clarke") (1797–1879). Born in Sommersetshire, England, in 1797, Clark emigrated to New York State in 1818, later removing to Canada and arriving in Guelph in April 1828. He was put to work building the first Dundas Road bridge and also Strickland's Bridge on the Eramosa road. The next year, he worked at clearing the townsite of Goderich, returning to farm at Guelph. Around 1850, he moved into town and set up a tannery on Surrey street. Around 1871, due to ill health, he sold the tannery and retired to a cottage he had built on Water street. The 1872 list of Guelph building operations in the Mercury (18 December) describes the location as "over Dundas Bridge," a common way of referring to locations in Brooklyn at the time. He died 31 July 1879 (Mercury, 1 August 1879).

Unfortunately, there are no pictures or descriptions of this first bridge that I have come across. Neither are there any images of Jehu Clark. As the bridge lasted over 20 years, we may suppose it had stone rather than wooden footings but was topped by a wooden deck and railings. We are at liberty to imagine Jehu as we like.

The second Dundas bridge was built in 1849. This date is recorded many years later in a Mercury (17 October 1874) article detailing a lawsuit initiated by George Hood against Peter Gow. Gow owned much of the property along the Speed River west of the Dundas Bridge and had a dam across it to provide water for his mill. George Hood owned property upstream along the Eramosa and was suing Gow for flooding his land due to excessive water level rise resulting from the dam. Happily for us (but not for Hood), several witnesses who testified at the court case had worked on the Dundas bridges in prior years. Jehu Clark, for example, was called to the stand and testified that he had worked on the "old Dundas bridge." Then, Richard Ainley told the court that he had the contract for the bridge in 1849. So, via subtraction, we can calculate that the original bridge built by Clark had lasted 21 years before being replaced.

("View from the Cutten Club, ca. 1872." Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-14-0-0-487.)

Luckily, the second bridge can be seen in the photograph above of a view of Guelph from the south. The bridge sits in the middle of the image. Stone abutments, two stone piers and railings can be made out. St. Bartholomew's Church (predecessor of the Church of Our Lady) can be seen on the top of the Catholic Hill. The scene is considerably different from today's as the land near the bridge is without any trees and there is no boathouse across the road.

Richard Ainley (1814–1884) was born in Yorkshire, England on 31 December 1814 and immigrated to Canada with his family at age nine, first residing at Rice Lake and then locating to Guelph in 1831, where he spent the rest of his life (Mercury, 19 August 1884). He was a carpenter and builder and appears to have done well, accumulating enough money to retire a number of years before his death in 1884.

Besides his work on the 1849 Dundas bridge, Ainley was the framer of the Royal City's first purpose-built store in 1842. He also worked as a lumber merchant and filled a number of civic jobs including fence viewer and constable.

By his retirement, Ainley had set himself up well. For an auction of his estate in 1887 (Mercury, 21 July), we read the following description of his primary residence at 146 Norfolk Street:

“Crescent Vale,” the late residence, is a very commodious, well built, two story white brick, eight rooms, easily heated, large cellar, hard and soft water, suitable out-buildings. There is a splendid fruit garden, upwards of one hundred well cared-for fruit trees and grape vines, all choicest varieties pears, apples and cherries, black, red, and white currants, black, red and white raspberries, gooseberries, strawberries in abundance. Beautiful cedar hedge, ornamental trees.

It sounds like Ainley had quite a green thumb!

The name "Crescent Vale" derives, no doubt, from the fact that the property bordered on the corner of Norfolk street and Nelson's Crescent, the latter a street now largely occupied by the current site of the Guelph Public Library, Main branch.

The construction of the second bridge in 1849 may have been prompted by serious improvements made to the Dundas road by the governments of the Wellington and Gore districts starting in 1848. The old road provided a notoriously bone-jarring ride, so the new, macadamized surface would greatly facilitate trade and travel to the south.

Unforunately, paying for the improvements and upkeep of the new road proved burdensome and the commission running the bridge set up a toll booth at the corner of the Dundas road and what is now College avenue to collect a fee to defray costs. This toll proved to be highly unpopular and led to the construction of Gow's bridge as free alternative.

Travellers often tried to evade the toll, sometimes with deleterious consequences, as noted in this story from the Guelph Advertiser (6 August 1864):

A pleasure ride and what happened.—Two young men, named C. Pratt and A. Smith, with Mrs. Pratt, Mrs. Rynard, and Miss Sarah Chatterson, started for a drive to Puslinch, to pay a visit to some friends. Returning about nine o’clock they drove through the toll-gate on the Dundas road, without stopping to pay the toll. The keeper of the toll-gate, Mr. John Hockin, immediately came up with them as they were entering on the Dundas Bridge. He at once hailed them, but receiving only laughter to his questions, he seized the horses by the head in order to stop their progress. Not being able to accomplish this he had to let go his hold. By this time the horses had become restive, and before they had proceeded many yards the buggy was overturned in the ditch. The men escaped without injury, but Miss Chatterton had her leg broken, and Mrs. Rynard was more or less injured. The buggy, a handsome double one, was smashed to pieces, but the horses escaped uninjured. One of the men struck Mr. Hockin three times on the face. The horses were taken charge of by the toll-gate keeper, who has taken them in safe keeping.

So, use of the Dundas bridge was long associated in the minds of locals with the unwelcome ceremony of paying a toll.

However, interactions of residents and horses at the second bridge were sometimes of a more comic nature, as illustrated by the following account in the Mercury (13 June 1891):

There was considerable excitement in the neighbourhood of the Dundas bridge yesterday. A blind horse, owned by a bill poster, strayed into the river. Two or three who came to the rescue secured a ducking in trying to get the animal out. The best of the joke was that it freed itself from them all and gained terra firma without assistance.

Happy or sad, the second bridge was certainly showing its age after more than 40 years. And so, residents began to call for a third bridge, as described above.

Bridges are significant places in many ways. They connect places that are otherwise separated, providing new opportunties, for good or ill. They are also a focus of activity of various kinds in themselves, and serve as landmarks by which residents understand their settlements. All these things are very true of the Dundas bridge, which has always been central to living and moving in Guelph.

("Streetcar in front of George Sleeman's Home on Waterloo [ave] 1905." The fender on the front of this car was designed to mitigate collisions with pedestrians and were added in light of incidents like the one described below. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 2009.32.6028.)

For example, the electric streetcar system was built by George Sleeman in 1895, with a route laid down over the bridge to connect it to the Agricultural College on College Hill. This meant that students at the College could more easily make trips to the city, and for students and employees of the College to commute to work. Of course, it also posed a new danger for residents and visitors to Brooklyn. On 19 October 1896, Mrs. Truckle was out shopping with her grandson Charles at a store south of the bridge when the lad wandered out and in front of a streetcar (Globe, 20 October). Mrs. Truckle rushed to his rescue but was struck and crushed by the vehicle. She succeeded, however, in saving Charles, who suffered only minor injuries. This was the first fatal incident involving the new streetcar system.

The bridge was associated with many recreational activities, especialy boating because of the boat houses that were installed nearby, culminating in Johnson's boathouse, which does a good business in tea, ice cream and boat rentals today. See my earlier blog post for more on this topic.

("Men's Curling Match, 1881-82." A composite photograph with hand-drawn scenery, signed "C. Hetherington, Guelph." Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1981X.282.1.)

The confluence of the Speed and Eramosa rivers just upstream of the bridge invited curling in winter. Of course, outdoor matches could be unpredictable. On one occasion, three rinks from Toronto had arrived in the Royal City to play the locals on the river by the Dundas bridge but rain made the conditions unsuitable for "scientific playing," so the group retired to the local indoor rink (Mercury, 27 January 1879). It seems that outdoor curling retained its charm in that era while indoor rinks were something of a last resort.

Skating was another popular pastime that was enjoyed informally on the river near the bridge. The Mercury made note of an "extraordinary" skater who was seen enjoying the activity at that site (23 February 1880):

... A boy named McTague, who had one of his legs amputated near the hip three or four years ago, in consequence of a railway accident, has learned to skate, and on Sunday displayed his knowledge of the art to the amusement of not a few. He only uses one skate and supports the side from which his leg has been removed by a sharp pointed crutch. Though his movements are not particularly graceful he hops over the ice almost as quickly as an ordinary skater, and seems to derive equal amusement.

Swimming was another popular activity near Guelph's bridges, which I have covered in other posts. In this respect, Gow's bridge seems to have been favored for its swimming potential. Dundas bridge was sometimes a haven from the sight of naked youth cavorting in the river downstream (Mercury, 5 August 1887):

Bathing at Gow’s bridge.—Numerous are the complaints that are made about young men and boys bathing at Gow’s bridge in broad daylight and in the evening. They run around the bridge, and dive from the parapet as naked as the day they were born and the language they use is most offensive beyond imagination. Ladies living on the other side of the river, and whose direct road home is over this bridge, are compelled to walk around by Dundas bridge. This state of things ought not to be, and the police authorities should see to it at once.

In the days before swimming lessons and PFDs, swimming could be hazardous also (Mercury, 27 August 1923):

Pulled boy out of river

On Friday evening while Mr. Dan Anderson, Verney Street, was passing along to Gordon Street, near the Dundas Bridge, he heard a boy calling for help. On investigating he found a youngster about 12 years old struggling in the water near the bridge. Mr. Anderson fished the lad out, and when asked for his name the youth took to his heels.

Fishing was also enjoyed in the vicinity of the bridge. This common activity drew little attention in the media except when something unusual happened. The Mercury (8 August 1890) notes that the Rev. W.T. Minter, minister of Guelph's British Methodist Episcopal church—a focus of Guelph's black community—who was "enjoying a quiet fish on the river above the Dundas bridge yesterday, was grossly insulted by a boat-load of young men, who swore at him and used other disgraceful language." Fishing While Black? When the Reverend laid a complaint with the police, one of the youths approached him and apologized, asking him not to press the matter. "He represented that they belonged to the best families of the city, which may be true in one sense, and that it would come hard on them to be publicly prosecuted." Minter agreed provided that the rest of the party apologize similarly. It is not clear that they did.

Besides its proximity to the water, the Dundas bridge was a landmark due to the presence of large fields next to it. Called variously the "flats," "field," or "commons" near the Dundas bridge, what I will call the "Dundas bridge flats" for convenience seems to have been the low-lying land north of the river extending from the bridge to Edinburgh road.

(Detail of "Map, Town of Guelph, 1862." The Dundas bridge flats was an informal name for the north bank of the Speed extending roughly from that bridge to Edinburgh road, and up to Bedford and Bristol streets. Courtesy of Guelph Civic Museums 1981X.233.1.)

The flats did seem to be regarded as a commons, that is, as a place where anyone might hold an event that had some kind of public purpose. For example, Mr. Wm. S.G. Knowles held an auction there of various conveyances of particular interest to farmers (Herald, 19 November 1850):

One very superior double-seated buggy; three single ditto; six very strong wagons, for teaming or farming purposes; four single-horse wagons, (two with steel springs;) seven double-horse sleighs; three pleasure ditto; two cutters; two pair of harrows; seven wheelbarrows, and a pair of blacksmith’s bellows. The above articles are new, and made by experienced workmen. Also, 2 beautiful horses, 1 milch cow, 3 sets of harness, saddle, bridle, &c.

Cash sales preferred!

(John B. Doris’ Great Inter-Ocean Museum, Menagerie & Circus. Cincinnati: Strobridge, ca. 1883.)

The visitation of traveling circuses was always a big event in early Guelph and, manytimes, the big top was set up on the Dundas bridge flats. On 16 July 1885, for intance, the John B. Doris Circus arrived and put up their tents there. The customary parade through the town was held and the Mercury reported that this was headed by "a very creditable band" and featured a menagerie of rare specimens of animals. The Mercury report says little else but the Globe (20 June) provides a more fulsome description of the offerings of this "Mammoth aggregation":

The Mammoth Fifty Cage Menagerie, comprising the largest and most varied collection of rare wild beasts, etc., received from all quarters of the globe, making one of the grandest zoological institutes travelling. The grand Gigantean Three-Ring Circus is comprised of all the leading excellence, equestrians, equestriennes, ten celebrated clowns, gymnasts, leapers, fourteen real brawny Turks, troupe of French bicycle riders, leapers, tumblers, acrobats, Siberian roller skaters, Japanese equilibrists, etc.

No corner of the globe went unmolested in bringing this show to Guelph! What could be more exotic than Siberbian roller skaters?

Sometimes, the locals put on their own shows, impromptu (Mercury, 24 August 1885):

A pugilistic encounter.—A most disgraceful fight took place on Sunday afternoon on the commons near Dundas bridge between two men whose names are given as Keough and O’Brien. The altercation took place on Macdonnell street, and the parties concerned, decided to go to the place above mentioned and fight it out. It is said that the fight lasted for about ten minutes in the presence of a large crowd of people, none of whom interfered to stop the brutal contestants. Both parties got a good pommelling.

Disgraceful though it was, it seems that the editors of the very English Guelph Mercury could not refrain from publishing an account of a donnybrook between two Irishmen. We are told that the affray was judged not by a referee but aftewards in police court.

Flooding was always a hazard, particularly in the spring when rain and snow melt might combine to produce a deluge of water down Guelph's rivers. Although large floods typically caused a great deal of damage to businesses and homes in the area, the result could be of aesthetic interest nonetheless, as in 1897 (Mercury, 22 March):

The whole flats presented the appearance of a lake. The trees were surrounded by water; the boat house had the appearance of a ship at sea, and ex-Alderman Slater’s, near Wells’ bridge, looked as if it was to be submerged.

With dredging and flood control measures in place, such scenes of nature's watery bounty are no longer to be enjoyed by the Royal City's residents.

("Gordon street bridge, 1931." Four young ladies pose on the bridge railing. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-15-0-0-420.)

Though it arrived late, the third Dundas bridge remained a fixture of the city for many years. Inevitably, tested by the elements and ever increasing traffic, this bridge was replaced in 1938 with an up-to-date concrete structure. Arthur Sedgewick, chief engineer of the Ontario Department of Highways, cut the ribbon at the opening ceremonies.

By this time, the name "Dundas bridge" had itself been replaced with the handle "Gordon street bridge." Perhaps, the significance of the bridge's connection to Gordon street to the north prevailed over its connection to Dundas road to the south, as the importance of Dundas as a destination slipped into the past.

This bridge served for many years but was itself replaced in 2001 with the bridge now familiar to Guelphites. With its location along the route connecting the Royal Recreational Trail and the Boathouse Tea Room, the bridge continues to serve as an important connection and a significant place in town life.

Gow's bridge

We tend to think of bridges as keeping people dry when they cross over rivers. For the most part, this is true but not always. At its inception, what Guelphites call Gow's bridge today reminded its makers of this fact (Mercury, 1 Sep 1897):

Got a ducking.

City Engineer Hutcheon was inspecting the new stone bridge at Gow’s dam yesterday. Mr. D. Keleher, the contractor, and Mr. J.K. Weeks were along with him. They got on to a rather rickety scaffold. It gave way, and the three men were plunged into six feet of water. Then there was a scramble for the shore. Keleher, it is said, floated on one of the broken planks until it struck on an obstruction and saved him from being floated over the dam. The trio got a good ducking, but nevertheless went on with the inspection of the bridge, if not with the same eagerness, with far more carefulness.

The scaffolding was intended to help laborers to build the bridge. In the absence of safety regulations, these structures could be rather unsound, as the inspector was here reminded.

Gow's bridge is perhaps Guelph's most noted and picturesque bridge (though the Heffernan street bridge is also in the running for that title). For this reason, no doubt, postcards of the bridge were quite popular in the Edwardian era.

("Gow's bridge, Guelph, Canada," published by Waters Bros., Guelph, ca. 1910.)

Technology scholar Langdon Winner is noted for arguing that technology can be "political" in the sense that it can enforce political goals. His most famous example is a set of bridges built by urban planner Robert Moses over some Long Island parkways. These bridges were designed with low clearances, which had the effect of impeding the passage of buses beneath them. Moses's critics argued that this arrangement suited Moses, who didn't want busses to use the parkway because they were the main means that poorer New Yorkers, especially black ones, would use to reach public beaches up the coast from New York City, something that Moses viewed with disfavor. The veracity of this argument has been disputed but it illustrates how the design of technologies, such as bridges, might further particular political preferences.

(A print of the photograph from which the postcard above was made. It is labeled, "Gow's bridge, Guelph, ca. 1875." Of course, this date cannot be correct as the stone bridge was not built until 1897, as noted above. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, C6-0-0-0-0-1168.)

Gow's bridge was also "political," not because of its design but because of its location. As Johnson (1977, pp. 95–100) explains, Dundas Road (now Gordon street), the only main road leading south from Guelph, was operated by a Commission that charged tolls in order to recoup the costs of its construction and maintenance. In 1852, the Commission raised its toll charges substantially in order to stay in the black.

Of course, higher charges substantially raised the costs for Guelph businesses to ship their goods south to market.

To say that Guelphites reacted negatively to this development would be to put it mildly. Citizens attacked the integrity of the Commission in print and physically attacked the toll gate south of town. In order to break the monopoly that the Commission held in southward routes, the Town Council set out to build more bridges over the Speed River, so that teamsters transporting goods to the south could circumvent the Dundas Road bridge. Its first effort focussed on the foot of Wellington Street, which, at the time, was at the Gow property a little west of the Dundas Road.

("Hon. Peter Gow, Member of the Ontario Legislative Assembly for S. Wellington," ca. 1870; courtesy Library and Archives Canada/MIKAN 3216191.)

Peter Gow (1818–1886), owner of that property, had immigrated to Canada from Scotland in 1842 and arrived in Guelph two years later. Following his father's profession, Gow set up a boot and shoe store in town. He went into partnership with his cousin James on the latter's arrival in 1851.

Ever the go-getter, Gow built a tannery, a woolen mill, an oatmeal mill, and a quarry on property he purchased on the shore of the Speed. (The property had a propitious history: In 1830, it was the site of a distillery built by one Andrew McVenn.) A dam was built to provide power for the mills, which became known as Gow's dam. The convenience of this site to the centre of Guelph, along with the presence of the mills and dam, probably explain why the Gow property was chosen as the site for Guelph's new, Commission-busting bridge.

(Detail of the map of Guelph from the 1877 Atlas showing Gow's bridge and properties where the west end of Wellington street intersected the Speed River. This section is today part of McCrae Boulevard.)

By the end of October, 1852, a bridge apparently sporting stone abutments and piers with a wooden superstructure spanned the Speed River, connecting Wellington street to the mean streets of Brooklyn, the section of Guelph on the river's south bank.

It seems that the new bridge, which was inevitably known as Gow's bridge (though sometimes called the Wellington street bridge), was a success.

Exposed to the elements as they are, particularly ice and floods, bridges tend to wear out and require periodic repair. When the maintenance bills come due is when we see how attached people are to their bridges (or other structures).

By 1872, Gow's bridge was in a "dangerous and dilapidated state" (Mercury, 4 June) and there were calls for its replacement. Helpfully, Wellington County chipped in $500 towards the project, evidently considering the structure an important regional asset. Plans were drawn up and tenders sought. However, at $1400, the lowest bid involved more money than the Town of Guelph wished to spend. Pivoting to Plan B, the town simply had the existing piers raised by a foot and a new wooden deck built. This project cost only about $650, which was much more to the council's liking.

A significant, though unintended, consequence of the presence of Gow's bridge was that it facilitated the practice of swimming or "bathing" in the river. There was a bylaw that prohibited bathing in the river near bridges, so the papers occasionally related stories of people who were caught in the act by authorities.

The perspective of the authorities is nicely conveyed in an article in the Mercury (5 August 1887), which lodges a complaint against the practice in general:

Bathing at Gow’s bridge.

Numerous are the complaints that are made about young men and boys bathing at Gow’s bridge in broad daylight and in the evening. They run around the bridge, and dive from the parapet as naked as the day they were born and the language they use is most offensive beyond imagination. Ladies living on the other side of the river, and whose direct road home is over this bridge, are compelled to walk around by Dundas bridge.

Of course, to the perpetrators, what was shocking about this scenario was the behaviour of the police attempting to catch them in the act. This perspective is nicely conveyed by John D. Higinbotham in a reminiscence of his childhood in Guelph in the 1870s (Higinbotham 1933, p. 21):

An excellent exemplification of the fact that "conscience makes cowards of us all" was seen in the terror of the very name of "Kelly" inspired in the hearts of the small boy. The town police force consisted of Chief Jonathan B. Kelly, and Sergeant Dooley. The former was a small man with dark piercing eyes; yet at the very sight of him every urchin sought cover. The principal duty of the Sergeant during the summer months seemed to be to parade the waterfront from Goldie's Mill to Gow's bridge and apprehend all small boys who, in violation of the town ordinances, insisted on bathing in nature's attire. Occasionally the boys outwitted him by throwing their clothes into an empty barrel and swimming with it to the opposite shore.

Which party was finally in the wrong is left for you, dear reader, to decide.

This second version of the bridge continued to serve the community for another couple of decades. By 1893, wear and tear had brought it to condition of being "unfit for traffic" (Mercury, 7 September) and calls for a new bridge were made once again.

In 1896, the City Council took action. In August of that year, the water had been drained from in front of Gow's dam, meaning that the riverbanks and bed were more than usually accessible, and at no extra cost! The council decided to have abutments built immediately and have a deck designed and built later on (Mercury, 18 August 1896). The tender of Dundas & Cape was accepted and masonry abutments, 22 inches higher than the previous ones, were constructed.

Of course, the superstructure then had to be built. The council could not decide on a type and solicted tenders for a stone structure, an iron one, or a wooden deck (Mercury, 8 March 1897). The stone option won the day, over the strong protests of Alderman Clarke, who favored the cheaper option and called the stone structure, "that costly stone bridge" (Mercury, 16 March 1897). He was certainly correct about the difference in price, with the bid for the stone bridge by D. Keleher coming in at $2197, while the bid by Richard Boyle for the wooden structure would come in under $500.

("Gow's bridge, Guelph, Canada." Postcard in bookmark format printed by Rumsey & Co., Toronto, ca. 1915; courtesy of the Guelph Civic Musemus 2004.32.17.)

Construction began on 16 July and the inspection, complete with the immersion of the inspectors, took place on 1 September. Guelph then had the romantic stone bridge that it continues to enjoy today!

Gow's bridge continued to be a favoured site for bathing but many other things, not always pleasant, occurred there as well. For example, the bank of the Speed at the bridge was a good place to pasture the Royal City's urban cows, a procedure that could occasionally be risky (Globe, 26 July 1916):

Frenzied cow gores woman attendant
Heat and flies madden animal and Mrs. Walker of Guelph is injured.

Guelph, July 25.—Frenzied with the heat and flies, a cow tossed and gored Mrs. William Walker, Birmingham street, this city, while she was endeavoring to drive the animal through the gate of a pasture field near Gow’s Bridge. Had two young men not hastened to her rescue it is altogether likely that Mrs. Walker would have been killed.

("Gow's bridge and mill, watercolour, 1910," by Effie Smith of Guelph. Courtesy of Wellington County Museum and Archives A1985.110, ph. 11243.)

Sadly, like many bridges, Gow's bridge was also the site of drownings and other unfortunate encounters with the Speed. Consider the example of Richard Hulme, a recent immigrant to Canada at the time of his death (Globe, 23 September 1924):

Depressed by lack of work young man takes his life

Guelph, Sept. 22.—Depressed and discouraged owing to the fact that he was unable to obtain employment, Richard Hulme, an English man, 30 years old, drowned himself in the Speed River. He is believed to have been mentally deranged. Before committing the rash act, Hulme placed his sweater coat and hat in a neat pile on the abutment at Gow’s Bridge, and then it is supposed waded into the water. A little girl in passing noticed the man’s clothing and on further investigation discovered the body in about 4 feet of water. Hulme had been out of work for over a month, and had been unable to secure a job. He leaves a wife and two children in Leigh, England.

Gow's bridge was designated a historic site in 1990 and noted as, "the only surviving example of several stone bridges which once crossed Guelph’s rivers."

---

There are intriguing mentions of a second bridge at the site of Gow's bridge around 1900. Consider this notice in the Mercury (15 July 1904):

Bad Bridge.

Residents in Brooklyn and farmers generally, who are in the habit of crossing Gow’s bridge, are complaining about the state of the wooden bridge adjoining the stone one. It was washed away last spring, and remained in an impassible condition for some weeks, when finally a plank footpath was erected. The fence on the righthand side from the city, between the two bridges, is also down. People who have to do business at the Grundy factory, at Cartledge’s woolen mills, and general delivery men are compelled to go by the Dundas or Wells’ bridges, considerably out of their way.

It sounds as though this wooden bridge connected the stone bridge to Wellington street, so that people crossing the river had to pass over both structures in sequence.

The Mercury (2 September 1904) later notes that this second bridge was replaced by another, "principally of cement".

("Gow's bridge from boathouse, July 1902 // July 10th, 1902 // Oil by Fanny Colwill Calvert;" courtesy of the Art Gallery of Guelph.)

An oil painting made by Fanny Colwill Calvert in 1902 shows not the stone bridge but one with a wooden deck. Could this be the adjoining bridge that was washed out in 1903?

("Gow's bridge, Guelph, Canada," printed by Rumsey & Co., Toronto, ca. 1910. Note the stone bridge on the left-hand side and another structure on the right. Courtesy of the John Keleher collection.)

It may be that this second, "adjoining" bridge stood on the section of Wellington street just north of the stone bridge, effectively connecting it to Wellington. A postcard of that period appears to show such a structure in that location. This structure is not wooden and so may be the one "principally of cement" built after Ms. Colwill Calvert's painting was executed.

The area between Gow's bridge and Wellington street was considerably altered in subsequent decades. The low-lying north shore was filled in with refuse and the buildings at the bridge were removed, making way for what is now Royal City Park. In place of an adjoining bridge, a third span was added to Gow's bridge and the Speed River was lined with stone walls, as part of a Depression-era works project.

("Speed River, from Gordon Street Bridge, Guelph, Ontario, Canada.—8;" postcard printed by Photogelatine Engraving Co., Ltd. and mailed in 1938.)

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Works consulted include:

• Johnson, L. (1977). History of Guelph, 1827–1927. Guelph Historical Society.