Speedwell stations: The Prison Farm's forgotten train stops

Some time ago, Bob Keleher kindly loaned me what remained of his father's—Jim Keleher—postcard collection, which was quite extensive. Among the many cards of note was a real-photo postcard with the label, "Guelph Hospital, D.S.C.R., March 1919" written in pencil on the back.

("Guelph Hospital, D.S.C.R., March 1919," real photo postcard. Courtesy of the Jim Keleher collection.)

My first thought was that this notation was rather mysterious: There is certainly no hospital depicted in the image. "D.S.C.R." meant nothing to me at that point. So, I filed the image away with a mental note to revisit it sometime later.

I came across it again recently. Having become better acquainted with the Guelph scene of the early 20th century in the meantime, I recognized what I was looking at. It is a view taken from the concrete bridge over the Eramosa River at the Speedwell train station, or stations. The D.S.C.R. stands for "Department of Soldiers' Civil Re-establishment," the governemnt agency in charge of demobilizating soldiers from the Great War. They ran the Speedwell Hospital, a facility to help returned soldiers to recuperate and prepare for civilian life once more, that was formerly the "Prison Farm" or, later, the Ontario Reformatory.

This image is interesting for a number of reasons. First, it depicts the Speedwell train stations, which is the first pictures of them that I have seen. The careful viewer will observe that there are several structures in view on the left side of the picture. The closest one is, I believe, the station built by the Toronto Suburban Railway (TSR), a private railway that provided a regular, electrified streetcar service between Toronto and Guelph (as one of its several routes). The line opened in 1917 and ran until 1931.

The TSR had a flag stop across the Eramosa from the Reformatory. It's not clear that this connection was used much by people to go to and from the Prison. However, it does seem that the TSR did a good business hauling milk from the Reformatory's dairy herd to Toronto. Such "milk runs" from local towns to the Big Smoke were a regular part of its business.

(Detail of "Guelph Hospital" postcard above. The TSR's Speedwell station is in the right foreground, while behind it from this perspective stands the CPR's Speedwell station. A farmhouse and barn are visible at the top of the cliff.)

The TSR's Speedwell station is certainly a modest building. But, it was clearly more than a simple shed, as attested by the chimney rising from its back wall. The presence of a stove is a sure sign that passengers would be treated to a little warmth in the winter months. Posts with guy poles can be seen at the front of the station (behind it from our perspective) and running off to the right, which provided the trains with power.

("Canadian Pacific Railway Co., Station. View of a little flag station on the CPR double track east of Smiths Falls;" courtesy of Ingenium Archives, Aubrey Mattingly Transportation Collection, MAT-06233. Though not a perfect match, this picture gives us some impression of what a flag stop of the era would look like at the front.)

I do not know what became of this station. It may well have been sold and moved elsewhere when the TSR was wound up.

The second building, right behind the TSR station in the image, would be the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) station. The TSR and CPR tracks ran parallel at that point, although they intersect away to the right where the CPR line (actually, the Guelph Junction Railway but operated by the CPR, even to this day) crosses the Eramosa while the TSR veers west to remain parallel the river.

The CPR station was built at the bridge crossing to the Reformatory in 1912, when the latter institution opened. It was a flag station, meaning that trains stopped there only when there were people or things to pick up or drop off. In the CPR timetable for 30 May 1915, the name of this stop is given as "Sturdee," presumably after Sir Frederick Charles Doveton Sturdee, a British Admiral who had recently led a successful battle against a German naval squadron in the south Atlantic. However, the name failed to stick, perhaps because the CPR already had a "Sturdee" station near Glacier in British Columbia. Instead, the 31 October 1915 timetable applies the name "Speedwell." How this name arose is not clear, although its proximity to the Eramosa River, then usually known as the "Eramosa branch of the Speed" may have been decisive.

Other structures of some interest can be seen in the picture. Above the CPR station, a house can be seen along the crest of the ridge. A barn or outbuilding is visible a little ways to its left. A farm of 32 acres, belonging to Arnold Sanders, is shown in that location in the 1908 Wellington County Atlas. The portion of the farm above the ridge, which had not been added to the Prison Farm property, was apparently still in operation.

Some of these structures can be located in a site plan of the Reformatory dated to 1921 (detail above). Curiously, the CPR's Speedwell station is indicated on the plan but not the TSR's station, although both sets of tracks are present. Did this section of the map derive from a time before the TSR station was built?

Near the centre of the postcard image, the Royal City's standpipe can be seen poking up from Grange hill on the horizon. Much of the water for the city came through a pipeline from the Arkell springs in Puslinch. The pipeline ran parallel to the CPR tracks, buried about 5m away from the side near the cliff.

Speaking of water, the perceptive viewer will have noted quite a bit of it in the foreground, apparently lapping at the back of the TSR station. Guelph suffered quite a deluge on 18 March 1919, which rendered the Dundas bridge impassible, thus sundering the city from the Agricultural College on the hill. From the look of the postcard image above, it appears that the Eramosa nearly flooded out the railway tracks at Speedwell station.

("Prison Farm"; Postcard by International Stationary Co., ca. 1915; author's collection.)

It is quite possible that the same event was recorded in another postcard, from nearly the reverse angle. Unfortunately, this other card does not show either of the railway stations.

Perhaps the biggest recorded flood to affect the Speedwell stations was the great washout of 1921. On 10 July, only days after Guelph's most disastrous fire, a massive thunderstorm roared over the town at night, unleashing a torrential downpour accompanied by hail stones the size of walnuts! The downtown was quickly submerged (London Advertiser, 11 July 1921):

The storm commenced shortly after 11 o’clock last night, and for two hours raged with a severity never witnessed here before. Without hardly a moment’s cessation the sky was brilliantly illuminated with vivid flashes of lightning during the entire storm, and deep thunder roared continuously. At midnight the downtown streets were several feet deep with water, and firemen and city employees worked up to their hips trying to keep the watermains open.

At Speedwell, rainwater poured over the cliff above the station in sheets, pushing boulders down the slope and inundating the train tracks. The water pipe burst and disgorged another torrent of the wet stuff into the scene. Unfortunately, a freight train from Hamilton, approaching Speedwell on the CPR line, ran into a section of track that had been undermined by the flood. The locomotive derailed, its tender overturned into the ditch, while the following car ended up at a 90 degree angle. No one was badly injured, however.

Naturally, hundreds of Guelphites made the trip to see the wreckage as it was being cleaned up. No photos of it have come my way, although there must be some out there.

(Locations of the former CPR and TSR Speedwell stations located on a current map of the former Reformatory grounds. Image courtesy Google Maps.)

Having survived this mini Noachian deluge, among other watery assaults, the TSR station burned to the ground on 12 November 1926, succumbing perhaps to its own heating stove. It was, to my knowledge, not replaced. Perhaps, if and when the former Reformatory grounds become a National Urban Park, the former presence of these most structures will be memorialized.

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Actually, the Library & Archives Canada has a file entitled "The Toronto Suburban Railway Company - Lands and Leases - Matters In Connection With Speedwell Station" (1548596). Perhaps this file contains images or descriptions of the TSR Speedwell station. Next time I'm in the Capital City, I may have to have a look. Of course, if you have seen this material, let us know about it in the comments!

The early days of Eden Mills

Eden Mills, a short distance up the Eramosa River from Guelph, has a reputation as a quiet and picturesque rural village. But, it wasn't always so. When Aaron and Daniel Kribs arrived the site on 14 April 1842, it had a good water supply but not much else to recommend it (Mercury, 20 July 1927):

Finding that there was sufficient fall in the bed of the river to raise about eight feet head of water at that place, they proceeded, after building each a shanty, to clear the ground for the mill dam. This required a good deal of courage, for a more dreary or unsightly looking place could not be found in the whole township, than it was at that date.

Despite the rough nature of the terrain, the availability of water and timber, plus the determination of the brothers, made them press on:

However, the Messrs. Kribs pushed ahead, and by the 1st of October of the same year, had the dam completed, the saw mill running, and a good one it was too, for an old fashioned water mill. Having a good lot of pine trees convenient to the mill, they set to work sawing lumber, and very soon the people found a way to get it out from the place. Although they had only a miserable apology for a road, yet the lumber was taken away as fast as cut, and they did very well that fall and winter.

(Postcard of "Mill pond, Eden Mills," ca. 1955.)

Daniel Kribs was born near Hamilton in 1816 and moved with his family to Eramosa in 1826 (Globe, 6 December 1898). The new mill was evidently the Kribs brothers' chance to make a name for themselves. So, they called their new locale "Kribs Mills" (sometimes spelled "Cribbs Mills").

("Grist Mill," ca. 1923; Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-15-0-0-340. These stone buildings replaced the frame mills built by the Kribs.)

Flushed with success, the Kribs brothers added an oatmeal and a grist mill to their enterprise. Unfortunately, this addition proved their undoing. The millwright they hired to construct it did a poor job, resulting in an underpowered mechanism that could grind only a fraction of the capacity required to run at a profit.

The brothers persevered but could not make good their debts.

In the spring of 1846, Adam Lind Argo came to the town and saw an opportunity. He offered the Kribs $5000 for their operation and lands and, although it was only half their investment, they accepted and washed their hands of the operation. Daniel Kribs later moved to Guelph, where he became a court bailiff and a respected member of the community.

Adam Argo was born about 1809 in Foveran, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, and immigrated to Canada in 1836. He gained milling experiece in Bridgeport and Preston before striking out on his own. Thanks to his experience and acumen, he was able to remodel the Kribs's mills and keep them running in the black.

Unsurprisingly, Adam chose to rename Kribs Mills and selected "Eden Mills" instead. Various stories are told about his reason for this choice. One story is that the name "Eden" was adopted to help attract interest in the otherwise unappealing locale, rather as Erik the Red choose the name "Greenland" for the icy North Atlantic island he was trying to sell back in frosty Iceland. Another story is that the name "Eden" had a Biblical provenance: Just as the original Adam came from Eden, so this new Adam would return there, in a manner of speaking. Another possibility is that Mr. Argo choose "Eden" in memory of his homeland, where there are a number of places featuring that name, such as Eden Castle in Aberdeenshire.

(Postcard of street scene of Eden Mills, 1905; Courtesy of Wellington County Museum & Archives A1989.101.)

Whatever the reason, Eden Mills ultimately proved attractive. The Mitchell’s Canada gazeteer of 1864 gives the following description and list of village enterprises, suggesting a thriving community:

Eden Mills, C.W.—A village, situated on the river Speed, in the township of Eramosa, count of Wellington, containing a good female school, three churches and Mechanics’ Institute library with 460 volumes. Distant from Rockwood, a station on the Grand Trunk Railway, 3 miles; Guelph 7 miles. Daily mail. Population 250.

Antony, Jackson	shoemaker
Bardswell, Meshack	retired
Boyle, Andrew	blacksmith and wagon maker
Burrows, Wm.	shoemaker
Cook, Charles	cabinet maker
Cook, Frederick	cabinet maker
Davidson, John A.	carpenter and builder
Davisdon, John A.	collector, land agent, issuer of marriage licenses, commissioner in B.R. conveyancer, &c.
Dowrie, David	carpenter
Esson, John	builder
Fielding, David	grocer
Frain, James	wagon maker
Harmston & Henderson	builders
Harris, John	hotel keeper
Hay, John	shoemaker
Hortop, Henry	flour mill
Jackson, Anthony	general merchant
Krase, Greorge	cabinet maker
Little, James	miller
Malcolm, Mrs.	female school
Meadows, Sam’l	postmaster, general merchant, sewing machine agent, and potash manufacturer
McDonald, Alex	tailor
McDonald, John	cooper
Richardson, Ralph	wagon maker
Ritchie, William	builder
Stewart, Alexander	builder
Sullivan, Timothy	blacksmith
Watson, Wm.	mail stage proprietor
White, James	constable and lime burner
White, Thomas	retired
Wilson, James	J.P., and oatmeal mill
Wilson, Peter	woollen manufacturer
Zouart, John	retired

The sharp-eyed reader will note that Mr. Argo had sold the mill by this time (1850), and relocated to Fergus.

Despite being largely cleared, local trees continued to play a significant role in the village. In 1872, some local men performing statute labour nearby discovered a human skeleton in an advanced state of decay with a flagstone laid across its breast (Mercury, 19 June 1872). They supposed that it was an Indian burial, as it was found under the roots of an old pine tree and must have predated the arrival of settlers. It crumbled to dust on removal.

In 1890, Mrs. William Geddes of Eden Mills was killed in an unfortunate accident involving a tree near the village (Mercury, 31 July 1890). She and her children had gone berrypicking with some friends in Mr. Anstee's swamp. The two parties had just gone their separate ways towards home when the children ran back saying that their mother had been struck by a tree. Her friends hurried to the spot to find that Mrs. Geddes had been killed outright and was lying next to the tree that had felled her.

In 1912, Eden Mills was hooked up to the electrical grid, like many towns in southwestern Ontario, to receive power generated a Niagara Falls. Construction of the Hydro corridors resulted in the felling of many trees, which met with some protest, reflecting a rise in interest in forest conservation advocated by people like Edmund Zavtiz of the Ontario Agricultural College (OAC). In a letter to the editor of the Globe (12 June 1918), J.E. Carter complained of "the great destruction of our beautiful shade trees along our highways by linemen who butcher them." He drew particular attention to "a fine row [of rock maples] near Eden Mills" that had recently suffered this fate. Carter noted that the Ontario Tree-Planting Act limited the powers of linemen to trim roadside trees and urged rural residents to exercise their rights to defend them.

(Postcard of Eden Mills showing General Store and post office, mill, and building located south of mill, 1912; Courtesy of Wellington Museum & Archives, A1989.66.)

Besides trees, water was a crucial part of Eden Mills early history. Of course, it powered the mills themselves but it also provided opportunities for recreation. In 1843, a party of young men were working on construction of Kribs's grist mill and decided to take a little break from the hot weather in the mill pond. Two of the party, Gerow and Duffield, got in over their heads and disappeared under the water. Daniel Kribs came upon the scene and managed to pull them out. Duffield appeared to be dead but local resident Stephen Ramage applied some "resuscitation techniques" and restored him to life.

Despite this close call, the mill pond continued to be a popular local swimming hole.

(Postcard, "Mill stream, Eden Mills, Ont.," ca. 1955.)

Of course, the mill pond and Eramosa River were popular places for locals to go fishing. So, it was the setting of many fish stories, such as (Globe, 20 July 1886):

An ex-student of the Agricultural College, now employed near Eden Mills, made loud professions of his abilities as a fisherman. Some persons, however, had so little faith in his attainments in this line that they made a wager that a young lady of the neighbourhood could outfish him, he however, to catch six to her one. The result was the young woman caught nine fish, one of which was a trout weighing a pound and a half, while the ex-student caught six shiners [minnows].

Grrl power! It would interesting to know who these fisher folk were. The young man whose angling pretensions were so ignominiously punctured may have been R.A. Ramsay, a local lad who had graduated from the OAC four years earlier.

In the great tradition of the pasttime, local anglers' exploits were always open to question, for example (Mercury, 17 June 1887):

The Rev. J.C. Smith, B.D., and Mr. Geo. Sandilands, manager of the Central Bank, were trout fishing in Eden Mills yesterday. Mr. Sandilands told a glowing story about trout, and trout fishing. The reporter would at any time take Mr. Sandilands’ word for $20,000, but when it comes down to veracity on a fishing expedition it is another matter. Mr. Smith was not seen on the streets to-day, and thus the promised one true fish story of the season is knocked on the head. It is privately whispered, however, that the catch was beautifully small.

Doubtless, more than a few whoppers were fished from the Eramosa at Eden Mills.

As it happens, more than water flowed through Eden Mills. In 1886, following a tip, police officers raided Johnston's Hotel there looking for violations of the Province's new Scott Act (Mercury, 24 December 1886):

Edward Johnston, who keeps a hotel there, was the suspected party. His premises were searched, and underneath the bar in the cellar was found a small still in full working order. The still was erected on the top of a common wood stove, with worm in a cold water tub near by. A considerable quantity of wort in different stages of fermentation was also found, together with distilled spirits. The whole was seized and the wort destroyed. The still and fermenting tuns were brought to Guelph.

Having been caught red-handed, Johnston pleaded guilty and was fined $50.

(Stone hotel building in Eden Mills, 1973; Courtesy of Wellington County Museum & Archives A1985.110.)

It seems that Johnston learned his lesson. A short time later, we learn of thirsty patrons being turned from the doors of his hotel (Mercury, 4 February 1888):

On Wednesday afternoon, it seems Mr. Arch. Robertson, living near Eden Mills, went home from Guelph with enough liquor to make him quarrelsome. Being refused entrance to Johnston’s hotel in the village, he ran foul of Mr. David Shannon, and in the encounter received a black eye. In the evening he returned with the assistance of James Rouse and William Hillis and visited Shannon’s house. Shannon was called to the door and assaulted by the trio, and had his window and sash broken. Shannon swore out an information and on the three parties appearing before Squire Strange they were fined $20 each, $5 costs each, $3 for the damage done, and bound over to keep the peace for 3 years. The villagers were much annoyed by the unseemly row, and trust that the result of this case may prove a warning to others disorderly disposed.

Unfortunately, it seems that later proprietors of the hotel were not so scrupulous. Joseph Zinger, who kept the hotel in the 1890s, was found guilty of illegally selling liquor on several occasions.

Matters came to a head in 1904 when the Prohibition League of Guelph complained to authorities about lax enforcement by W.S. Cowan, the license inspector for South Wellington. The Inspector, they said, took no action despite numerous complaints made by the League against establishments in Everton and Eden Mills. Indeed, his superiors were unimpressed with Cowan's defence (Globe, 27 February 1904):

The department wrote to him twice about the matter, and he replied that he had made an inspection, and at Eden Mills had confiscated so much liquor as to necessitate a team to take it away. The department decided that he should have known of the open violation long before, and that after such glaring evidence of incapacity there was no alternative but to ask for his resignation. He declined to resign, and the department removed him.

What did the neighbourhood think of a village where the license inspector hauls away a wagonload of illicit liquor and his bosses figure that he isn't trying hard enough?

(Postcard of Eden Mills showing General Store and post office, mill, and buildings located west and south of mill, 1912; Courtesy of Wellington County Museum & Archives A1989.66.)

Besides wood, flour, and whiskey, Eden Mills was once set to become a petro-town. Apparently, enough oil had been dug up in the vicinity to prompt villagers to form the Oil Company of Eden Mills (Globe, 19 January 1866). Directors were appointed and capital not less that $4,000 was sought. At the inaugural meeting, it was resolved that

the shareholders, owning land at a distance not greater than three miles from Eden Mills, agree to bond their land for oil digging purposes at a royalty of one-eighth of the proceeds of the well, or wells sunk by the Company—said shareholders binding themselves, at the time of taking stock, to hold their lands open for three years for the company for that purpose, and said contract, when executed, to extend to 99 years.

The village was said to be in "a fever of excitement." Test wells were dug and samples sent to Toronto for analysis. Yet, after a year or so, Eden Mills' search for black gold did not pan out and the village never did become the Calgary of South Wellington.

(A forest of oil derricks in Los Angeles, Toluca Street, ca.1895-1901. This failed to materialize in Eden Mills. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.)

One of the challenges for residents of the village was its relative isolation. When the Grand Trunk Railway from Toronto to Guelph was built in 1856, it went through nearby rival Rockwood instead of Eden Mills. So, when the Guelph Junction Railway was proposed in 1886, to connect Guelph to the Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) line at Campbellville, residents saw a chance to catch up. After a village conference, Messrs. Laing and Nicol were sent to a meeting of the directors of the new railway to urge them to adopt a route through the village (Mercury, 6 April 1887). They acknowledeged that a route through Eden Mills would be a little longer than the one proposed near Arkell but argued that it would have compensating advantages. Eden Mills was home to many gravel pits that could supply building materials cheaply. It's grist, oatmeal, and shingle mills produced much material that could be shipped from a station in the village, not to mention the plenteous turnips! The directors promised to relay the proposal to Mr. Jennings, the CPR Engineer, though they were not optimistic for its prospects.

As residents contemplated this gloomy news, things suddenly looked up. A navvy, that is, a civil engineering construction worker, soon appeared in the village, equipped with boots, shovel, and spade. Residents inferred that the Junction railway was to grace their village after all! Alas, it was not so and the people of Eden Mills had to deal manfully with their disappoinment (Mercury, 19 April 1887):

The new arrival was received with open arms, but when he avowed, on being questioned, that he knew nothing about the Guelph Junction, he was treated to the cold shoulder, and plainly made to understand that his [ab]sence would be a relief, and if he did not go he would be assisted.

In the end, the CPR decided on the shorter route and Eden Mills was bypassed again.

However, the patience of villagers was finally rewarded when the Toronto Suburban Railway (TSR) was built between Toronto and Guelph in 1913–1917. This was made possible by the extension of Hydro power to Eden Mills in 1912. When it became operational in 1917, the TSR enabled residents to ship and receive goods from their local station. In addition, visitors could readily arrive by train to enjoy events such as dances put on in Edgewood Park (later Camp Edgewood). Residents could get to larger centres for their amusement and convenience.

(Oatmeal mill, Eden Mills, ca. 1923; Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-15-0-0-341.)

However, by the time the TSR arrived in town, a rival mode of transportation was taking hold, that is, the automobile. At first, cars were largely expensive summer amusements for wealthy urbanites. Early car owners from town would take their vehicles for joyrides through the countryside, spooking the horses and annoying rural residents.

Some residents occasionally lashed out against these urban elites by setting traps for them in the roadways. On one occasion, Mr. Walter Harland Smith, Liberal candidate in Halton County, met with just such an improvised obstacle (Globe, 12 September 1911). He had finished addressing a meeting at Eden Mills and was driving to Campbellville for another when, just near the top of a hill near Brookville, his car crashed into a barricade of logs and stones thrown over the road. He and his two companions were ejected from their auto and badly shaken up, though not seriously injured. However, their car was completely wrecked.

It may be that this attack was directed specifically at Mr. Smith as a form of politial opposition. If so, it nonetheless employed a tactic that was also directed indiscriminately against car operators in rural areas of Ontario, and elsewhere, at the time.

(Map of Eden Mills, 1906; Courtesy of Wellington County Museum & Archives A1985.110.)

However, by the end of the Great War, car ownership had become more common, including among rural residents. One news story about an unfortunate incident following a wedding in 1919 shows that there were at least two automobiles in Eden Mills by that time (Globe, 24 October 1919):

Death came quite suddenly to-day to Frank Ramshaw, a highly-respected citizen of Eden Mills. In company with Geo. Gordon, he was returning home in a motor car from a wedding.
In another car just behind him were his son and several others, and when about three or four miles from Rockwood this car overturned and went into the ditch. The car ahead stopped, and Mr. Ramshaw got out and went to a nearby farmhouse to secure assistance. He came back only to find that everything was all right and no person hurt.
While he stood there, however, he suddenly fell forward, and almost before anyone could reach him he expired. Death was no doubt due to heart failure brought on by the excitement due to the accident. Mr. Ramshaw was about sixty-five years of age, and was well known. He leaves a wife and several children.

Increasing popularity of private automobiles decreased interest in the TSR, which ran mostly at a deficit and ceased operations in 1931. Sections of it are now operated as trails by the Guelph Hiking Club, including in the vicinity of Eden Mills. (Mill pond, Eden Mills; Courtesy of Google Street View.)

Of course, there is much more to the history of Eden Mills, which is perhaps best known today for the Eden Mills Writers Festival. Suffice it to say that, despite initial appearances and a few challenges, Eden Mills did become an attractive and lively locale.

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The following works were consulted for this post:

• Quaile, D. (2007). Eramosa anecdotes. Ayton, Ont.: Wordbird Press.
• Thorning, S. (22 March 1999). Milling had long, difficult history in Eden Mills. Wellington Advertiser.

The Toronto Suburban Railway: Guelph's streetcar to Toronto

On 12 April 1917, a lone streetcar from Toronto pulled into Guelph. On hand to greet it were a passel of railway dignitaries along with a clutch of curious locals. Officials with the Ontario Railway and Municipal Board and with the Toronto Suburban Railway (TSR) itself climbed on board for a "trip of inspection" back to the Big Smoke (Toronto Globe, 13 April 1917).

Before their departure, Mr. R.T. Hagen, Chief Engineer of the TSR confirmed that regular service between Guelph and Toronto was slated to start on Saturday the 14th although there would be but one car per day each way. On 1 May, after a period to identify and correct any difficulties, more frequent service would begin.

The new service was immediately well patronized. Although regular railway service between the Royal City and the Queen City had been established for decades, the idea of riding the trolley between the two (or points along the way) seemed to fulfill a need.

The cars themselves sound as though they were quite inviting. Car 101, a passenger car built at the Preston Car and Coach Company, was well appointed, finished in attractive cherrywood. The upper sashes of the side windows were glazed with leaded glass. Cars were entered from a center stairway that reached to street level for added convenience.

(TSR car #105 in front of old City Hall, Carden St., January 1918. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library F38-0-15-0-0-268.)

At the back of the car was the Main Room, featuring green, plush, upholstered, high-backed seats with headrests and footrests. A polished bronze handle on the aisle sides allowed passengers to seat themselves with dignity. A pushbutton was provided in each setting so that riders could inform the motorman of their desire to get off at the next stop. Overhead were luggage racks for storage and a three-ply, poplar veneer ceiling. A private toilet was located at the front.

At the front of the car was the Smoking Room, outfitted with low-backed seats upholstered with green pantasote—imitation leather—for a look reminiscent of a gentlemen's club. In service, the Smoking Room would have been filled with clouds of hot ash and tones of gentlemanly conversation. At the front of this room was the motorman's compartment, with the pedals, gears, levers, bells and gongs needed to control the train and communicate with its passengers.

Travelers on the TSR often used it to commute to larger centers for shopping or socializing. It became common practice for the Railway to add a trailer car to the Saturday train for shopping purposes. Ladies from smaller places along the line would visit Guelph to do their shopping and could deposit their purchases on the car over the course of the day. In the evening, the car would leave the Royal City to haul its load of goods and women on their trip home.

Traveling to parks was also a popular use. Guelphites were known to ride the TSR to attend dances at Edgewood Park in Eden Mills. In 1925, the TSR purchased Eldorado Park, a private park along the route in Chingoucousy Township, now within the town of Brampton. The idea was to boost ridership on the line by providing an attraction for passengers to visit, much as the Guelph Radial Railway (streetcar) built Riverside Park in 1905. A Ferris Wheel and Merry-Go-Round were added to make the proposition more attractive.


("Electric railways, Canada (1923)"—apparently a special excursion train from Toronto to Eldorado Park. Courtesy of British Pathé)

The Toronto Suburban Railway began life in 1890 as the Weston, High Park & Toronto Street Railway Company, with service centered on the town of West Toronto Junction (now known simply as "The Junction"). Two prominent railway wheeler-dealers, Sir William Mackenzie and Sir Donald Mann, known as "King" and "Duke" respectively, acquired the TSR in 1911 and began an ambitious expansion program. A line to from Lambton to Guelph was surveyed in 1911–1912, although grading and track-laying was delayed due to the Great War. Plans to carry the line through to Berlin (now Kitchener) were never realized.

(Sir William Mackenzie, April 1917. Courtesy of Library and Archives Canada.)

(Sir Donald Mann, 1907. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons.)

When the TSR Guelph line began operations in 1917, it had only four cars, 101, 104, 105, and 106, the first two being passenger coaches while the latter two also included baggage compartments. Cars 102 and 103 had burned in a fire at the Preston Car Coach Company before they could enter service. By 1918, it was clear that the TSR required more capacity, which was met by the purchase of four used, wooden, open-platform cars from the New York Elevated Company. These old wooden cars made for quite a contrast with the modern, steel cars already on the line.

(TSR car at Stop 101, in front of the Grand Trunk Station (now VIA—not seen) on Carden St., 1919. A trailer acquired from the New York Elevated Co. is attached behind. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-15-0-0-267.)

Two further passenger cars, 107 and 108, were added in the mid 1920s, along with a locomotive and a car-snowplow.

(TSR car #107, manufactured by the Niagara, St. Catherines & Toronto Railway (NS&T) in 1924. It was returned to the NS&T in 1935 and was rebuilt and used by that railway from 1943 through 1959. It is seen here on the Martindale trestle on the Port Dalhousie West line, 8 September 1957. Postcard by JBC Visuals; photo by Robert J. Sandusky; from the author's collection.)

The TSR had a number of interesting features. First of all, it was electric rather than steam powered. Electricity generated at Niagara Falls had recently been brought to much of southwestern Ontario, so it was available for expansive projects such as regional transportation. Power was provided to the TSR line by an overhead system suspended on brackets attached to 35 foot (10.7m) high wooden poles carrying a 25,000 volt AC, three-phase, 25 cycle current.

Power substations were built at intervals along the line to convert this power to DC for the trains. One was constructed in Guelph on Bay Street (now James Street East) although, in the event, it was used as a freight shed instead.


(Intended TSR power substation, 22 James St. E. Courtesy Google Street View. In Guelph, the TSR used the local streetcar tracks from Carden Street, down Gordon Street and then went its own way along James Street East.)

One of the implications of this system was that TSR trains gave a spectacular show in certain weather conditions. Consider a reminiscence by Jack Watkins, who recalls a memorable trip to take in a hockey game:

"I remember going to Georgetown on the thing, one night in the '20s. It was during a sleet storm—you should have seen the fireworks display from the trolley pole! We were going to see Guelph and Georgetown play hockey. We had to crawl from the suburban station to the arena. I can't remember who won the game!"

Of course, high-power electrical systems can also be quite dangerous. Norman Paul, TSR electrician at the Georgetown power substation, was electrocuted to death on 28 April 1917 (Acton Free Press, 3 May 1917). He was found unconscious with a skull fracture and both arms badly burned. It seems that he came into contact with a live wire and was hurled violently to the floor. He was rushed to Guelph General Hospital but never recovered.

Another feature of the TSR was that its route was notoriously curvy. Its riders estimated that 1/3 of the route consisted of corners instead of straight lines. The result was that the train lurched perilously from side to side during operation. Indeed, the wide, semi-circular seat at the back of the Main Room was known as the "thrill seat" because of the sideways distance it would travel as the train went along. Passengers remembered the line "fondly" as the "Corkscrew Railway" or the "Seasick Railway" as a result.

The reason for this meandering layout was to economize on land acquisition expenses. Where keeping the track straight meant purchasing expensive property, Mackenzie and Mann opted for cheaper, swervier rights of way. Besides the immediate savings, this strategy may have seemed shrewd since even a somewhat jolty trip on a nicely-appointed train was more comfortable than a trip by horse-and-buggy on the province's rutted and potholed roadways, which was the main alternative for many of the TSR's passengers.

Finally, the TSR had some impressive bridges. The most spectacular was the bridge over the Humber River just west of Lambton Park. It stood at 711 foot long and 86 feet high (217 x 26m). Passage over this vertiginous bridge may have added a giddy touch of vertigo to go with the nausea induced by the rest of the route.

(TSR car crosses the Humber River high bridge, 1920. Courtesy of Guelph Public Library, F38-0-15-0-0-266.)

In spite of its initial popularity and considerable virtues, the TSR was not a paying proposition for long. After the Great War, automobiles found ever greater favor with the public, for both recreation and commuting. Busses began to transport groups of people between cities. Governments encouraged this trend through a broad program of road improvements and expansion. No similar effort was made to encourage rail travel, which suffered accordingly.

The TSR began to operate at a deficit in 1921. Perhaps to address this issue, the company began a freight service in 1923. One customer was the Prison Farm, which shipped milk and produce to Toronto over the line. Thus, the TSR truly became a milk run!

Even so, any hopes of profitability faded from view. The TSR ceased operations in 1931. A delegation of Acton residents went to the Canadian National Railway (CNR) office in Toronto at the time to protest the plan. (In 1918, the TSR was acquired by what later became the CNR.) The meeting ended quickly after the complainants admitted that they had made the trip to Toronto by car.

Although the TSR's assets were sold off and its tracks dismantled in the mid-1930s, some reminders of its existence remain in and around the Royal City. At the end of James Street East, past the intended power house, a trail atop the old railway bed leads under the Cutten Club along the south bank of the Eramosa River past Victoria Road and to the old Speedwell stop, near where a concrete bridge led over the river to the Prison Farm. Another section of the old railway bed can be enjoyed at the Smith Property Loop nearby in Puslinch, which is available for walking and biking.

Anyone interested in the TSR specially and local railway history generally must also visit the nearby Halton County Radial Railway on Guelph Line. The HCRY has restored trains and facilities from regional railway history and lies on a section of the TSR right-of-way through Halton County. It is open May through October.

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Thanks to the Guelph Public Library and Guelph Civic Museums for assistance with research for this post.

I consulted the following sources for this effort:

• Coulman, Donald E. (1991). "By streetcar to Toronto: Commuting from Guelph the electric way," Wellington County History v. 4, pp. 37–48.
  
• Kennedy, Raymond L. (nd). "Toronto Suburban Railway: Guelph Radial Line."
  
• Marshall, Sean (2016). "Mapping Toronto’s streetcar network: The age of electric—1891 to 1921"
  
• Salmon, J.V., et al. (196?). "Rails from the Junction, Part II: The Toronto–Guelph interurban."
  
• n/a (1981). "Toronto Suburban Railway: 50 years since abandonment," Upper Canada Railway Society Newsletter, n. 382, pp. 3–9.
  

Let me know about any other substantial sources in the comments, please.