Remembering Champlain High School

Kitchissippi now boasts only two secondary schools (Nepean and Notre Dame), so it could be surprising to some that at one time there were actually two others: Fisher Park of course, but also the lesser-known Champlain High School, in the Westboro Beach neighbourhood north of Scott and west of Island Park Drive. This article will look back at that school which was the alma matter for many in the community (including both of my parents). In a way it is unfortunate for former students that their former school is closed. In a year where many groups are celebrating anniversaries and reunions, it makes it a little more difficult to organize events like that when the school no longer exists. Champlain had a relatively short life span, and is best remembered for two things in particular: the contentious changeover to an all-French school; and Rider great Russ Jackson. Read on to learn (or relive) these memories and more.


History of the land

The land on which Champlain High was built had a rather unexciting existence before the high school arrived. Originally part of the east half of Nepean Township lot 31 in concession A, the land was sold repeatedly throughout the 19th century, passing through the hands of Loyalist Joshua Adams, the important Birch family of early pre-Westboro days, Senator James Skead, and others, eventually ending up in the portfolio of land syndicate Ottawa Land Association. The land was swampy, heavily treed, and not capable of development until the mid-20th century. The OLA eventually surrendered the land to Nepean Township due to unpaid taxes in 1937. When this part of Nepean was annexed to the City of Ottawa in 1950, it transferred to city ownership. It remained as vacant, surplus land to Ottawa into the 1960s.

Of course, few photos exist of this area of land, however I did uncover one which showed it in its swampy glory of the pre-WWII era. The photo below is an aerial photo from 1933, and you can see it is nothing but trees and swamp, the water being quite high that spring, coming all the way up to the houses on Ferndale and Selby, and also right up to the new Island Park Drive approach to the Champlain Bridge. Scott Street is along the top, Island Park Drive left border, Churchill right border:

May 1933 aerial view

A view below from the summer of 1961 shows the future site just before clearing would have begun. As you can see, it was heavily treed. That's Ferndale and Selby at bottom, and the apartments on Clearview at top right. Champlain would of course be built in that treed area in-between. Island Park Drive is visible running at the very top of the photo. An old westward extension of Island Park Drive is visible along the left side of the photo, about where the Parkway would soon run.

June 1961 view of the future site of Champlain High.
(Source: part of Ottawa Archives CA-8481)

The planned "Scott Street High School"

The need for additional high schools in Ottawa was high in 1961, as the number of pupils continued to increase. The baby boom following WWII and again after the Korean War led to continuous growth within Ottawa's school system, not to mention the general trend towards more schooling for most of the population, which was still a relatively new concept (in 1951, 36% of 14-18 year olds were enrolled in high school; that number had increased to 49.9% by 1961). The working world had also changed, as there was a major shortage of jobs available for untrained youths. The media reported throughout the summer of 1961 of Ottawa's need for more schools. This, despite Hillcrest opening in 1961 as Ottawa's fifth new high school in five years. Substantial federal grant money was also offered to school boards towards construction of new schools. The boards were most certainly in a rush to get in all the construction they could before the grant money dried up. Some proposals pitched in 1961 included plans for a high school to be built on vacant land north of Scott Street, near the CBC building on Lanark Avenue, which would be required to be open no later 1966.

By October 1961, the Collegiate Board of Ottawa went to the Board of Control to request approval to construct a $2,035,200 school for 1,050 pupils, next to the CBC studios. Controller Lloyd Francis and other board members supported the location whole-heartedly, arguing that suitable sites large enough to handle a high school were rare within the City. The 13-acre piece of unused land had been put up for sale by the City, and the Collegiate Board had an agreement in place to purchase it.

However, Mayor Charlotte Whitton preferred a block of land in Mechanicsville (essentially everything north of Burnside Avenue, which is now grassland and parkway space east of Hinchey, but at the time was still a busy, fully inhabited section of Mechanicsville). This part of Mechanicsville was considered one of Ottawa's main "slum areas", a target of the urban renewal project which was attempting to clean up the city of decrepit and dangerous housing. This site had earlier been targeted by Whitton for the location of the new "Eastern Ontario Trade School" (better known as Algonquin College) which instead was located out Woodroffe Avenue, where it of course remains today.

City Council played host to a sparring match between Lloyd Francis and the Mayor, who argued not only about the use of the Mechanicsville site, which Francis stated could not be acquired and prepared quickly enough to meet the mounting school population (and which he insisted would cost more than $100,000 an acre, five times what Whitton argued it would), but also over the topic of the type of school it would be. Whitton was adamant about the need for more secondary school trades training. The media summarized the hostility: "The Controller (Francis) had to shout down Mayor Whitton before expressing his views from a prepared speech (in which Francis argued that Ottawa was starting to pay too much attention to commercial and industrial training for secondary school students). The mayor called him out of order and interrupted several times as he tried to get started. Mr. Francis called the mayor out of order for her interruption and told her to 'sit down or leave the chair.' Finally, by raising his voice above the shouting pitch already reached, he managed to outshout the mayor."

In the end, Francis won out, and it was reported that "when he (Francis) was finished, Mayor Whitton, quietly this time, supported the collegiate board and the Scott Street plans."

A week or so after the approval, there were discussions around the Roman Catholic Episcopal Corporation acquiring 3 of the 12 acres on the property, and opening a high school on the same site. The Collegiate Board considered the proposal, but in November decided against it, arguing that the site was already two acres shy of the 15 acres recommended in the Municipal Act for a high school (also they argued that parking requirements would already take up too much space; in 1961, it was a requirement that parking space must be provided for one-third the number of seats in a school's auditorium, for which the plan was 800 seats.)

Enter Charlotte Whitton, who in the days following the announcement publicly expressed her feelings that it was "unfair" that the board would not provide the three acres, and wanted a meeting with provincial officials to clarify policies. Controllers Hamilton and Francis argued that any opposition she continued to lay would tie up development for a year or more, and may even lead to students having to attend school in shifts in area high schools. The Catholic group eventually pulled their request, and the plans for the high school on Lanark proceeded.

In March of 1962, the City formally transferred the 13.6 acre site to the Collegiate Board, for the price of $95,000. Interestingly, only 10.5 acres were purchased, the other 3 acres would be rented from the city for a minimal price. This was a strategic move by the City, who would use the 3 acres of owned land to count against their mandated requirement of parkland acreage to be maintained. Construction was to begin in January of 1963, with school opening that fall. The construction cost estimate was in the $2M range, and federal grant money contributed a cool $1.26M towards it. (Announced at the same time were the terms of Tech High School's west wing renovation, and construction of new east wing, the full $1.6M price tag to be paid by the feds, as well as a substantial addition to the new Hillcrest School, for which the City and feds would each pay $625k).

Throughout 1962, the proposed school was referred to as "Scott Street High School" and perhaps briefly that may have been considered as the actual name, however in October of 1962, the name "Champlain High School" was selected instead, an easy choice considering the proximity to the Champlain Bridge as well as the Champlain Park neighbourhood, which had recently been renamed (it had previously been known as Riverside Park).

Ottawa Journal - October 23, 1962

Construction of Champlain High

Architect firm Hazelgrove, Lithwick, Lambert and Sim prepared the plans and specifications for the school. It was designed to be virtually a twin of the Brookfield High School, which was built at the same time. (For more on the architect firm, and the Brookfield connection, please check out this detailed Urbsite post on the history of Ottawa high schools built in the 50s and 60s at http://urbsite.blogspot.ca/2016/03/ottawas-high-school-architecture-mill.html). Urbsite noted that the both were to be "marked by granite fieldstone walls, more interesting massing and judicious splashes of orange."

The tenders for construction of Champlain went out in November 1962, and indeed construction did begin during the winter (February-March) of 1963.

Ottawa Journal - November 17, 1962

Here is a progress shot of the school underway in April of 1963:

Champlain High School under construction - April 18, 1963.
The dotted line and "X" was added by the paper to show
where an ironworker had fallen through a hole in the roof
decking 34 feet into a pile of sand. The worker was not
seriously injured thankfully.

And an oblique/overhead view, from late April, possibly early May of 1963. That's the Parkway under construction at left, and the old CPR tracks at the right. CBC Studios on the opposite side of Lanark, with Independent Coal and Lumber at top right:

Champlain High School mid-construction - April-May 1963
(Source: part of Ottawa Archives CA-8779)

In March of 1963, it was announced that the Board had appointed Stanley S. Katz, then vice-principal at Fisher Park High School, to become Champlain's first principal. He was profiled in the newspaper later that year (I had to chuckle that they actually listed the principal's home address in the paper!)

Ottawa Journal - September 11, 1963

By June, plumbing was being installed, however work was held up for a few weeks due to a City-wide strike by the International Laborer's Union which was supported as well by the Ottawa Building Trades Council. Picket lines were set up at the school, crossed only by a few workers who picked up their tools.

The announcement of of the first day of school for Champlain!
Ottawa Journal - August 24, 1963

The opening of Champlain High

The school was was able to open on time, and classes began on Tuesday September 3rd, 1963. Final construction and "finishing touches" continued into the fall, while students were already on campus.

The school opened with an enrollment of 530 students in grades 9, 10 and special grade 11 commercial, and a staff of 30.

Elizabeth Whitcher and Alan Swedlove were elected as head girl and boy at Champlain that first month the school was open. Their photo appeared in the newspaper soon after:

Ottawa Journal - October 2, 1963

The official opening of the school, and laying of the cornerstone, occurred at 3 p.m. on Tuesday October 8th, 1963. The stone was laid by Henry R. Welch of the Collegiate Board. Welch noted that the astrolabe had been selected as the school's official crest, which he hoped "will inspire and give guidance to its students", while another speaker John Y. Harcourt noted that the school motto was "Omnibus Consulamus", meaning "Consideration for All".

Ottawa Journal - October 9, 1963

Ottawa Citizen - October 9, 1963

Champlain High school crest

Champlain High's first championship team was the Junior Girls' Volleyball team, which won the board championship in March of 1964:

Champlain Junior Girls Volleyball team, champions of
the board 1963-64 school year
(Photo from Journal March 21, 1964)

Here is a view of the exterior of the school, when it was just one year old in 1964:

Photo of Champlain High - from October 1964

By the fall of 1964, Champlain had 800 students registered. A profile of the school at that time noted that Champlain had a new combined two-year commercial and arts course "which requires only basic achievements in typing, layout and some office equipment operation", though some successful students moved into the four-year commercial course. It also noted the technology and trades program at the school was expanding, adding a course in plumbing. A boys cooking class during after school hours had 50 students in it. The list of section heads were: Vice-principal Howard A. Barber; History, C. Merrick Band; Commercial, A. William Dervin; English, Owen C. Froggett; Mathematics, Lionel G. Hodder; Language, Sylvain Mayost; Physical Education, George L. Simonette; Technical, Samuel Storey; and Guidance, A. Earl Murdock.

November 7, 1964
Jack McCauley and Mike Cole

November 7, 1964
Ann Bailie and Margo MacKenzie

December 19, 1964
First Snow Queen of Champlain

March 6, 1965
Brian Cornforth, Charles Bruce, Norman Yeatman, teacher
Victor Wilton, Bob Beaudoin, Andy Ferguson and Richard Morand.

By the fall of 1966, enrollment was up to 1,110 students in grades 9 through 13, while staff had increased to 70. That November, Champlain held its first commencement ceremonies, where 155 students were part of the first graduating class.

Ottawa Journal - November 10, 1966

In January of 1967, an addition was announced for Champlain, which would include eight classrooms (later reduced to six), two science labs and two storerooms. The same architect firm (Lithwick, Lambert, Sim and Johnston) prepared the plans. Tenders went out in July for the $349,900 project, which was awarded to L'Abbe Construction Ltd. of Ottawa. Work began that fall, and the addition was completed by the fall of 1968. The board explained that the expansion was needed owing to the expanding population in the area, and specifically the increased enrollment in science classes.

In June of 1969, former vice-principal John King was appointed acting principal of Champlain when Mr. Katz moved on. Meanwhile, that fall, the graduating class at commencement numbered 273 students.

Cool aerial view of Champlain High (Astrolabe '69)

English vs. French at Champlain High

It was in December of 1969 where things began to go off the rails for the thriving high school. It was announced out of the blue on Thursday December 11th, 1969, that Champlain High would transition into becoming a French-only school. Legislation passed by the Ontario government in 1968 required local school boards to provide high school education in the French language where there is sufficient demand for it. Ottawa had been offering French high school classes in a series of leased buildings, for which the board had been paying over $1M annually to house its 4,000 French students. The Ottawa Collegiate Institute Board argued that it could neither afford to continue spending big money on leases, nor afford to construct another high school on its own. The conversion of Champlain, they argued, would provide the dedicated school desperately needed for French students in the central-west Ottawa. (Also caught in the proposed change was the new Canterbury High School, which it was announced would become two schools within one, French and English, each with its own principal and administration.)

The initial proposal stated that for the following fall (of 1970), only French students would be accepted to grade nine at Champlain, while any prospective English students would be accommodated at Nepean, Fisher, Commerce or Tech.

Staff and students alike were not happy with the announcement. Even principal John King had non-supportive words in the media the following day (see below). In what seems like a 180 degree turnaround from the approach just a few years earlier of building new schools to keep up with the demand (not to mention the paint had barely dried in the new addition built at Champlain less than two years earlier), the Board defended their decision saying that they couldn't justify keeping Champlain English when there was space open at Nepean, Fisher and other schools, and while there was a need for a French high school. The Board argued that to keep English students at Champlain, it and possibly other schools would have to move to a shift system, or else taxpayers would need to cough up $5-6M to build a French high school.

Ottawa Journal - December 12, 1969

At that time in 1969, Champlain had 1,050 students and 69 teachers.Teachers worried about job security and the affect the change would have on their careers. An angry group of teachers met with Board staff in the library of Champlain the week following the announcement. The Board was concerned about the negative reaction, and the threat of mass staff exodus in 1970, while teachers wanted written assurance that their jobs with the board were safe; particularly as the Board commented that night that in fact the school could even become 100% French in three years or less, rushing the phased approach.

Champlain teachers meet with the board in the library of
the school - Ottawa Journal, December 16, 1969

The night of December 17th, it was the parents turn to express their outrage at a meeting held in the auditorium. The Chair of the meeting set the tone early by announcing the plan was "only another step in making Canada a French nation", though many in the crowd did not agree with his extreme view. The parents actually were largely supportive of the idea of the school becoming bilingual, or even split (as was planned for Canterbury) but were universally against the transformation to an exclusively French school. Head girl Joan Hanna on behalf of the concerned students voiced that they were upset as that they had spent seven years building up school spirit.

The assistant superintendent of the Board stated that a bilingual school was not possible, because the school was too small and that bilingual high schools were "difficult to administer", while he also discounted all other options, such as building a new French school, or converting another area school such as Nepean, Fisher or Commerce.

The Ottawa Collegiate Institute Board was to dissolve on December 31st, to be replaced by the new Ottawa Board of Education. On December 29th, the Board in their final act announced they had changed their minds, and offered a compromise to the Champlain community. They decided that, for one year at least, the school would run as a split, bilingual school. Both grade 9 and 10 French students would be admitted in the fall of 1970, as well as new grade 9 English students.

This was not a well-received decision amongst the French supporters. In January the OBE heard from a large group of 600 ratepayers who were pushing for Champlain to become full French-speaking school in September of 1970! They did not want a split school, citing that the "atmosphere is not conducive to developing a French cultural atmosphere".

The debate raged into a full-on French-English battle in the west end. The OBE had to make a decision, based on student numbers and the overall financials. University of Ottawa professor Jacques Henri published a demographic study which showed there were 1,400 French students west of Bronson who would need Champlain that fall (later reports put the true number closer to 800, and it was also pointed out that many of those being included in that count were already attending English schools and likely would not decide to transfer to a French high school at that stage anyhow). The Board also was concerned about the seven expensive private French high school leases it had inherited. Meanwhile, the Separate school reps on the Board argued against the split school concept as well, with one board member noting "The French children would have to go in there wearing boxing gloves". It was also pointed out by the board research chief that moving the English students to other neighbourhood schools would solve one problem but create a new one, citing the overcrowding that would be caused, as there was not enough room for them.

The issue became one of Ottawa's most controversial in early 1970, extending to both the general public and the political world. The historical battle between French and English was played out with combatants fighting for improved education. The issue became a microcosm of many of the language issues that existed in the era. Many editorials and letters to the paper were written, and it seems that everyone had a strong opinion one way or another. Passion and emotion was strong. It appeared the choice the OBE had to make would set some significant precedents, and school boards across Canada were following closely.

Later in January of 1970, the OBE's advisory committee on French-language education recommended that Champlain begin to transition in September 1970, bringing in all grade 9 and 10 students in the area, plus grade 11 and 12 students at the leased Notre-Dame du Bon Conseil girl's school on Bayswater, that no English students be admitted to grade 9, and as an interim measure operate as "two distinct and autonomous units." More public consultations and meetings were held. Students' council president Keith Bell, speaking on behalf of the English students of Champlain told the board that if they chose to convert the school into a French school that "it be converted to French entirely, instead of the proposed phase-out of English-speaking students over a number of years". He also asked the board to change the school's name if that decision were taken "because Champlain, as it is now known, would cease to exist."

February 10th was a key day, the date of the board meeting where the OBE would be announcing their final decision. Local TV covered the meeting, and a large crowd attended in person. Several students marched in front the the OBE offices during the meeting carrying placards.  Four and a half hours of emotionally-charged speeches led to many tense moments. Trustee Eileen Scotton had originally been in favour of the conversion, but voted against it, arguing that the French board members "have not given one damned inch since this whole thing began." A fellow trustee then argued Scotton shouldn't be on the board for changing her mind, and "degrading the intelligence of the board." Another trustee A. Sinclair Abell voted to keep Champlain unchanged, and smartly argued that he "did not see how the cause of national unity could be served by creating unilingual schools". The final vote count of 11-to-5 left many stunned: Champlain High would be French only by 1973.

February 11, 1970 - front page of the Journal

The next morning, an upset principal John King made a four-page speech over the school's public address system, "As principal no one is more disappointed than I" he said. He appealed to the students for calm and co-operation.

Not surprisingly, the decision was fought by parents to the courts. A community group formed known as the Ottawa West English-Speaking Ratepayers' Association. They cited their primary goal as reversing the decision made on Champlain. They also argued that provincial Bill 141 allowed the French community to have extra representation on boards of education, enabling French ratepayers to elect four members to advisory committees while not making provisions for an English group. The group hired a lawyer and filed a writ in April in the Supreme Court of Ontario seeking an injunction against the OBE to halt the conversion. Arguments were heard in May, and the judge summarized the Court's role as being "not concerned with either the 'morality' or the 'common sense' involved in the board's action - only its right to take it."

Ultimately the Supreme Court dismissed the injunction against the OBE, citing that there was no reason why the OBE could not establish a French school if it wanted. The group appealed one step further, to the Ontario Appeal Court. The case was finally heard in early October, well after the school year had begun with an all-French grade 9 class. That court also rejected the appeal, questioning the right of students to attend any particular school, noting "they are entitled to an education in a high school but the individual buildings are the instruments by which school boards carry out their legal obligation of giving an education." The issue was dead, and Champlain's fate was sealed.

The decision was final and 500 French students started at Champlain in the fall of 1970, about 250 grade 9 students, plus all of the grade 10, 11 and 12 students who had transferred from Notre-Dame du Bon Conseil. Omer Deslauriers was appointed as principal of the French section. Meanwhile, the 300 would-be Champlain English grade 9 students were obligated to find space in other neighbourhood high schools; each of those schools would experience a strain on their capacity for the 1970-71 school year. A secondary issue was the toxic work environment for staff at Champlain, who would now be looking for new schools knowing that Champlain was in full conversion mode.

Meanwhile the fall of 1970 also saw Hillcrest High School be considered as the next high school to potentially convert to All-French.

The arrival of Russ Jackson

The fall of 1970 saw another notable event in Champlain's brief history occur, when Ottawa Rough Rider quarterback legend Russ Jackson was appointed principal of English Champlain. Jackson took over the difficult task of managing a school during a potentially contentious period.

"I hesitated when they offered me the job but now it has become sort of a challenge to me", Jackson said a few months in. "It's difficult for teachers and students to put their best efforts forward in a school they feel has no future."

Russ Jackson at Champlain High School
(Source: "Astrolabe 71", Champlain HS yearbook)

Jackson had started his career in education in 1959 as a math teacher at Rideau High School. He was appointed vice-principal of Sir John A. Macdonald High School in 1966, before moving to Champlain for his first appointment as a principal.

Jackson had retired from the CFL as a player in the fall of 1969 after winning back-to-back Grey Cups. He spent the summer of 1970 in Kingston working on his qualification certificate to become a high school principal, while also working with the Riders as a quarterbacks coach. He had also been hired as a colour commentator for CFL broadcasts on CBC. In December of 1970, just a few months into his tenure at Champlain, there were significant rumours that Jackson was going to unretire to play with the CFL's Vancouver Lions. The Lions had offered him $100,000 to play the following season. The rumours lingered throughout the winter, and finally in April, Jackson said he was done with football. "There is no deal with the Vancouver Lions, I'm a high school principal and I'm not going to play football. Speculation is ended."

The Journal reported on October 31st, 1970, that the sharing of the school between the 500 French students and 620 English students was progressing well. A newspaper reported: "The facilities are not being overtaxed, there is much less tension and much more co-operation between the two language groups. Both language groups start and end their days at the same time and share the same lunch hours. French and English play on the same interscholastic teams and teachers of both language groups co-operate fully in planning academic programs. Last night the English boys danced with Champlain's 350 French girls at a school dance organized jointly by the students' councils of both school."

"But we still have to talk English anytime we wish to associate with English boys", said École Secondaire Champlain student's Council President Helene Cyr, "and I don't think the English girls like us because their boys like us."

1970-71 school year dance photos (Astrolabe '71)

My mom recalled that the students planned to stage a massive walk-out in the fall of 1970 (perhaps in response to the failed appeal to the Ontario Supreme Court), but Russ Jackson put a stop to it. She remembers him announcing to the student body that anyone walking out can "keep on going" and wouldn't be allowed to come back. There ended up being no student strike, and the matter was closed. As much as the media made it sound like a homogeneous environment, my Mom does not recall it being so; she seems to recall that the English and French kids both pretty much stayed within their own groups. Certainly it was civil, and everyone got along, but ultimately it would have been a different experience knowing your high school's days were numbered.

Champlain High begins to disappear

By 1971, the board began to be concerned about the future forecast of student numbers. By stopping the enrollment of any new English students, as well as the departure of some students, Champlain was projected to have less than 140 students (88 in grade 12 and 50 in grade 13) for the 1972-73 school year, and just 35 for the 1973-74 school year; numbers far too low to administer and run a school. The board considered allowing new students to enroll in Champlain in grades 12 and 13 only (the only two grades still in operation) to boost numbers. They also considered simply moving all the remaining students to other schools. The board finally agreed that it would stick to their original commitment and voted 8-5 in November of 1971 to keep the English section going until the current students finished their schooling in June of 1974, regardless of the costs.

Some of the teaching staff at Champlain, 1970-71, including
at the very bottom left, Mr. Swords, who taught both of my parents
at Champlain and ironically was later my teacher at Nepean High
in the mid-1990s. (Astrolabe '71)

130 students and 20 staff remained at Champlain by February of 1973 (plus 966 in the French program), and the Board again was reconsidering their commitment in 1971. They called it a "delicate dilemma". There were 35 students projected to attend Champlain that fall, who had indicated interest 15 subject areas, meaning three full-time teachers and six part-time teachers would be needed for the grade 13 classes. The cost estimate to operate the school for the 35 students was $100,000. On top of this, it was announced Russ Jackson would not be returning to Champlain, and was named principal at Canterbury High. Board members debated the issue heavily throughout the winter, arguing it was a "firm and deep moral obligation" to allow the 35 students their education at Champlain, as was promised. At the end of March, the board agreed, it would allow the final 35 students to remain at Champlain in 1973-74.

Ottawa Journal - March 30, 1973

Sample of class photos 1972-73
(Astrolabe 72-73)

Likely the last board sports event with a student representing
Champlain High (the English school at least), and it was my
uncle Richard competing in the board snooker finals
(sponsored by a beer company!) - Journal, June 20, 1973

Photo collage of sports at Champlain,
1972-73 school year (Astrolabe 72-73)

Russ Jackson's farewell message to Champlain in the
school's final yearbook, June 1973 (Astrolabe 72-73)

After June of 1974, the school continued in operation as École Secondaire Champlain into the 1990s. By 1991, the school had only 280 students out of its capacity of 1,181. The French public board acknowledged it was under-used, but argued that its relatively isolated location made it difficult to fill for any board. Some of the rooms were rented out for program consultants, students with autism, and the offices of the Ottawa-Carleton Learning Foundation. In 1991, Champlain became property of the provincial Ministry of Education, and the province planned to sell it by September of 1995.

The board looked for alternatives for the vacant space, including moving grade 7 and 8 students from over-crowded École elementaire Charlotte-Lemieux on Bel Air Drive. In February of 1992, the OBE voted to move Connaught school's students to Champlain for at least a year, while the dangerous and over-crowded 83-year old building was to be rebuilt. However, The board was influenced by an offer from the Ministry of Education, who agreed to give the OBE $1.49M plus a speed-up on another promised payment of $5M, in exchange for the OBE allowing the school to be leased to Algonquin College. Algonquin was in the midst of constructing new buildings on Woodroffe and required the temporary space. The OBE took the new offer, and scrapped the Connaught rebuild, much to the frustration of Connaught parents and staff.

Centre Jules-Léger circa 2000 (prior to the exterior modifications
which saw the familiar orange colour finally disappear)

Around 1997, the school was sold and became the Centre Jules-Léger, which it continues as today. Centre Jules-Léger was established in 1979 as a school for students with severe learning disabilities under the stewardship of the University of Ottawa. Today it continues to provide a curriculum and residential program for students with severe learning disabilities, as well as for programs and counselling services for deaf, blind or low vision students. It is Ontario's only school for francophone students who are hearing impaired or living with severe learning disabilities. There was some discussion in 2016 that its future was uncertain and potentially would close, after enrollment had dipped to as low as an anticipated 45 students for the 2016-17 school year (it has space for 330). However, it was announced last fall that the Association des conseils scolaires des écoles publiques de l’Ontario (ACÉPO) would be taking over management of the school, which was expected to assist in regrowing the school.

The former Champlain High School at age 54 years.

The fading history of the Hintonburg Pumphouse

Many of the comforts of life we take for granted today were nothing more than a dream a little over 100 years ago. In the late 1800s, while Hintonburg and Mechanicsville were prospering and growing rapidly, the infrastructure had not grown along with it. Water service to the neighbourhood was non-existent, and sewage was primitive at best. Both were seem as impossible, owing to the bedrock on which most of the area sat. I'm sure many citizens in the 1890s cursed the village planners who had established this busy residential and commercial section on top of what was then an impenetrable platform of rock.

Water service eventually became an absolute necessity, as fires were constant in the area, any of which could threaten the entire neighbourhood at any time, depending on the wind. Adding to that, no industrial companies could be compelled to move to the area without water, and perhaps most concerning of all, the ongoing use of outhouses at every home spilled into the small network of creeks that traversed Hintonburg, leading to the regular spread of illness and occasionally, death.

The establishment of water works was finally a success in 1899, and this is the story of that system, and the pumphouse which enabled water to finally flow to the homes of Hintonburg that year.

It came at a heavy cost, however. Hintonburg spend over their heads on the project, leaving themselves unable to afford sewers that they needed as well, and in heavy debt. The independent village had no choice but to join to Ottawa to help in the matter, and within a few years, they joined the city water system, rendering the little pumphouse redundant. However, it took on a new identity as a unique little waterside house, which was inhabited until 1980. The house later was given heritage status, and would today be a really cool structure that could have had a million different community uses. Unfortunately, kids or transients burned the house down in an intentionally set fire in 1989 while it sat vacant and awaiting a decision on its use. The ruins were still substantial in 1989 (as you can see in one of the photos in the link below) and more could have been done to rebuild or preserve, but instead the house was left to rot over the last 30 years. Now there is little left to save, and any preservation would come at a hefty cost, which no one seems to want to pay, in order to preserve a small bit of the building on a site they aren't even sure how to use. I'm sure we are still many years away from a decision being made on what to do, meanwhile the ruins continue to sit idle.

Here's the full story of the building below, along with a bunch of photos not available in the print edition:

https://kitchissippi.com/2017/03/16/hintonburg-pumphouse/

A special night for Hintonburg in 1898 - the Klondike Gold Rush

Life in Hintonburg in 1898 of course cannot be compared to 2017. Whereas today Wellington Street West offers an abundance of restaurants and pubs, shopping and entertainment options, 119 years ago the options would have been very minimal. Aside from the odd tavern or two, the local post office and a few shops selling the necessities of life, it was a pretty quiet village. The West End Park on Holland Avenue added a little life to the area in summer evenings, but for the majority of the year, entertainment in Hintonburg would have been hard to come by. In fact, if not for the relatively newly-installed streetcar tracks connecting Hintonburg to Ottawa, life probably was quite isolated. 

Thus, when the occasional event would be held in the village, the residents would come out in droves. This was especially true on a cold February night in 1898, when the Hintonburg Town Hall on Parkdale Avenue played host to a prominent explorer and lecturer for one rare evening. 

The Town Hall was located just south of where the old fire station now stands, and was the Nepean Township Town Hall until Hintonburg severed itself from Nepean in 1893. A lack of large gathering spaces essentially meant the Town Hall was the place for popular events in Hintonburg during this era. 

On February 15th 1898, the residents of Hintonburg were likely joined by many from the surrounding area who traveled through a particularly windy and snowy evening to take advantage of a rare opportunity to hear famed Canadian explorer William Ogilvie present stories of the Yukon Gold Rush.

William Ogilvie

The Yukon Gold Rush was just entering its peak in popularity, and Ogilvie had been at the center of it all. Gold had been discovered in August of 1896, creating a mad rush of people from all over North America to the northwest corner of the continent, in the mad dash for riches. Ottawa was not immune to gold rush fever; many citizens left the city in 1897 and 1898 to stake a land claim and try their luck.

A little biographical info on Ogilvie from Wikipedia: Ogilvie was born on a farm in Gloucester Township, in an area now known as Glen Ogilvie. He articled as a surveyor with Robert Sparks, qualifying to practice as a Provincial Land Surveyor in 1869. He married Sparks' daughter Mary, a school teacher, in 1872. He worked locally as a land surveyor, qualified as a Dominion Land Surveyor in 1872 and was first hired by the Dominion government in 1875. He was responsible for numerous surveys from the 1870s to the 1890s, mainly in the Prairie Provinces. From 1887 to 1889, Ogilvie was involved in George Mercer Dawson's exploration and survey expedition in what later became the Yukon Territory. He surveyed the Chilkoot Pass, the Yukon and Porcupine rivers. Ogilvie established the location of the boundary between the Yukon and Alaska on the 141st meridian west. During the Klondike Gold Rush, he surveyed the townsite of Dawson City and was responsible for settling many disputes between miners. Ogilvie became the Yukon's second Commissioner in 1898 at the height of the gold rush, and resigned because of ill-health in 1901. He was the author of Early Days on the Yukon (1913), which is still available in facsimile reprints. The Ogilvie Mountains, Ogilvie River and Ogilvie Aerodrome in the Northern Yukon Territory along with Ogilvie Valley in the Southern Yukon Territory are named after him.

Back to 1898, Ogilvie was on a book tour of sorts, promoting his recent publication "The Klondike", a detailed book for those who were travelling (or considering travelling) to the Yukon, with advice on what prospectors could expect, tips for survival, maps and other gold-hunting advice! (The book, which is actually quite an interesting read from the exciting period of time during the gold rush craze, can be read in its entirety at https://archive.org/details/klondikeofficial00ogiluoft). 

Ottawa Journal, February 10, 1898

The Gold Rush had not hit its zenith yet in early 1898, but its allure was strong, even in Ottawa. Many newspaper ads of this brief era targeted those travelling to the Yukon. Apparently there was quite a local commercial industry for it. Here are just a couple I quickly snipped from the old paper from the same week Ogilvie visited Hintonburg. These are true actual ads run by companies in downtown Ottawa!

Ottawa Journal, February 14, 1898

Ottawa Journal, February 16, 1898

Ogilvie had made a presentation in Ottawa a week prior, to a large crowd at the Russell Theatre. His audience there included Prime Minister Sir Wilfred Laurier who introduced Ogilvie, as well as the Governor-General. Other attendees included many Ministers, Senators and members of the House of Commons, as well as a large crowd of the general public. Laurier introduced Ogilvie as "a man who had not only served the government and the people, but had served the nation and the empire, and had made Canada known from one end of the world to the other." Hintonburg was certainly fortunate to host Ogilvie the following week. It was well advertised, and I am sure much anticipated by the locals.

Ottawa Journal, February 14, 1898

The presentation in Hintonburg was organized by the Bethany Church, and the large audience ensured a successful evening for the Church that night. Rev. Eadie from Bethany Church hosted the lecture, which Mr. Ogilvie  titled "Klondike Reminisences". 

In his speech, Ogilvie warned local citizens against going to the Yukon. "You had better not go to the Klondike this year. There will be gold found there for years to come yet, but this year will be a bad year in that country because too many people are going and they will not be able to endure the hardships" he stated.

He opened his talk in describing the Yukon geographically, illustrating with the use of a map the location of the Yukon River, its tributaries and the gold fields. He then detailed his experiences in the Yukon. "Men cease to be like themselves in that country", he said. "As the result of the lust for gold and the hardships endured, they forget they are friends and will even curse each other and part". He spoke of groups of friends who started out together but "in a short time the altered circumstances and surroundings have so changed them that they will separate one by one until each man is parted from his friends."

He also related his experience with real estate agents in the Yukon: "The country is exceedingly rich. Many claims will return millions of dollars. There are 30 of them in a row that will do it. Some 3,800 claims are now recorded and a good many of these are staked simply to take advantage of ignorant people. You should be very cautious about investing. I give you fair warning, for I anticipate some nasty work next year."

Another highlight of the presentation was the display of photographs from the Yukon. Keep in mind in 1898, photographs were still a rare thing, and for most in the crowd, viewing images of far away Yukon would have been an exciting event all on its own. It was reported that Ogilvie at the close of his speech, "exhibited some very fine views of scenes in the mountains, on the rivers, at the mining camps, and in the towns of the far of land. His descriptions were clear and very brief as he had some 60 pictures to present." He afterwards also unfurled the first Union Jack flag ever flown in Dawson City, which he had made himself. The paper reported it would soon be placed in the museum in Ottawa.

Ottawa Journal, February 16, 1898

What is also interesting about the descriptions of the evening, is the technology involved. The photographs exhibited were known as "limelight views", projected onto a canvas by a stereopticon. 

Example of a "Stereopticon", an early version of a
slide projector.

The article also makes mention that the projectionist Woodruff played music during the intermission on the autoharp, which appears to be this popular 19th-century instrument below:

An interesting and significant night in early Hintonburg for sure, and very likely one the highlights of the year for many. I wonder how many local residents Ogilvie managed to talk out of (or into) taking their chances and chasing the Klondike gold rush?

William Ogilvie and his party in the Yukon in 1895
(Ogilvie is bottom row, second from right)

The fires of Skead's Mills & how Westboro was born

Back in the early part of the winter, I spent a bit of time digging more deeply into the history of Westboro Beach. I had the great pleasure of being asked to present at the Westboro Beach Community Association AGM in December. For this, I put together as many interesting photos and stories as I could on the area in the 1800s, when it was not exactly a beach. What is great about this topic is that many present-day residents are shocked to learn that the area and land had a much different use back in this era, which indeed gave Westboro its auspicious birth.

Prior to 1870, there was very little development west of Hintonburg. There were farms off of Richmond Road, but no trains had arrived yet, and any attempts to sell land or promote new subdivisions were losing battles.

However in 1869, the Canada Central Railway announced they would be opening a rail line from Lebreton Flats west to Carleton Place. The line would run more or less alongside the Ottawa River until past Britannia, and then cut south through Nepean Township to Carleton Place. This meant that trains would begin to appear steaming through the farmlands of Kitchissippi. Deals were struck with farm owners to acquire tracts of land for the tracks to run through. Or, in the case of one lumberer and investor with a little inside information, shrewd deals were struck to acquire the land surrounding the forthcoming track.

James Skead in 1869 was a Canadian Senator, and had been one of Ottawa's most prominent and successful businessmen and citizens over the past twenty years. He was born in England in 1817, and came to Canada at the age of 10, not long after his Mom had passed away. The family settled in Montreal first, then Bytown a few years later. In his 20s, he started in the lumbering trade, and invested in business along the Madawaska River. He took in his first haul, a swath of red pine, in 1843. He became an expert in river works, and constructed innovative slides at various locations including Bytown. He was prosperous from the beginning, and held an incredible number of titles over the years.

He sat on the first Ottawa Board of Trade elected in 1857, was President of the Dominion Board of Trade, President of the Ottawa Agricultural Insurance Society, President of the Ottawa Iron and Steel Manufacturing Company, President of the Ottawa Agricultural Society, President of the Upper Ottawa Steamboat Company, and a director of various groups including the Ottawa Association of Lumber Manufacturers, Madawaska River Improvement Association, Ontario Fruit Growers Association, the Ottawa Immigrant Aid Society, the Ottawa Rifle Association, the Rideau Club, and various shipping and rail companies. That isn't even the complete list, I omitted many others. His heart was with agriculture, and he was known for his imported rare Ayrshire cattle, which he exhibited at fairs.

Hon. James Skead in November 1872
(Source; LAC, PA-025365)

Politically, he was involved on Ottawa City Council in 1861, then represented Rideau in the Legislative Council of the Province of Canada from 1862-1867 (pre-Confederation). In 1867, he lost his election for his seat in the first Parliament, but was appointed to the Senate by Sir John A. MacDonald, as a reward for his contributions politically and in the lumber business.

His real estate holdings were significant. At one time he owned approximately 450 acres of land west of what is now Holland Avenue (which he had begun accumulating in 1859), not to mention much land in Ottawa and elsewhere. One of the more interesting buildings that was once his is the stone building at 541 Sussex (corner of George), which has a history dating back to 1837 as a log tavern operated by Donald McArthur. Skead acquired this in 1862, and over the years it has existed as the British Hotel, the Imperial Garrison Barracks the Clarendon Hotel, and as the birthplace of the Royal Academy of Arts and the National Gallery of Canada. It is probably best known as the home of Geological Surveys of Canada for many years, and remains today as a prominent heritage building in the Byward Market.

For more on Skead, check out his biography at the Dictionary of Canadian Biographies website at: http://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/skead_james_11E.html

Back to Kitchissippi, the Thomson family (they of Maplelawn on Richmond Road) began to experience financial issues in the 1860s. By the mid-1860s, they had begun selling off their excess farm land, even offering up Maplelawn in 1867. William Thomson died just after Christmas of 1867, and his sons took over the estate and property. They would attempt to sell builder lots in a subdivision they called "Baytown", and did what they could to keep up the farm, but ultimately the Thomsons lost everything a few years later in 1878 (more on them at a piece I wrote in the fall: https://kitchissippi.com/2016/11/24/westboro-pioneers-founding-family-thomson/).

So in 1869, the Thomsons were probably quite glad to find a buyer interested in part of their farm. James Skead purchased just under 75 acres of land from the Thomsons on December 15th, 1869 for the oddly specific sum of $6,351. This was all of the land in "concession A" of lots 29 and 30 in Nepean Township, essentially everything north of what we now know as the Transitway, from Churchill west to about where Golden/Dominion now run.

That same month, Skead also purchased two nearby pieces of land in the east half of lot 31 from lumberers Merrill and Currier, totaling 79 more acres. Skead was obviously buying up as much land in the vicinity as he could, smitten with the real estate prospects of this rural vacant land.

1879 map of Nepean Township, showing the area from
present-day McKellar Park at the top, to Parkdale Avenue
at the bottom. Carling, Richmond and Scott are the three
roads (double-lines) running from top to bottom. Most
land is still in farm-sized properties, with the land-owners
name and number of acres listed. As you can see, Skead
owns a large percentage of the land in the area.

However, what Skead also knew (since he was Vice-President of the Canada Central Railway) was that the new rail line would be coming through this property; the first rail line running west, and the first line running through Nepean and Kitchissippi. The opportunities to build around the line, run spurs off the main line for shipping, etc. were infinite. Skead with his extensive background in the lumber trade fancied the Westboro Beach area as an ideal spot to erect a mill, and immediately set about its construction.

By mid-1870, Skead's first mill opened, at a cost of approximately $50,000, and was "fitted with all the most recent improvements". The mill building measured 152 feet long by 46 feet wide, erected right on the shore of the bay (then known as "Thomson's Bay"), close to the water. The mill employed about 40 men, and could saw 15 million feet of board in a season. It was used primarily for the cutting of wood for lumber, lathes for home construction, and shingles.

One of the biggest concerns of the era for anyone, home-owner or business-owner alike, was of course the threat of fire. One small spark and an entire operation could be turned into ashes. Skead took all the precautions he could against fire: he had a night watchman under his employment each and every night; a powerful steam pump ready at all times to deploy water; the engine house and boiler house were constructed as separate stone buildings; and Skead also enacted strict policies against smoking on the property.

The mill instantly created a small community in the area, and gave the Thomsons a little life in their Baytown subdivision, though more so to the Birch's 1860s subdivision east of what is now Churchill, which they had called Birchton.

September 16th, 1870 was the first official train of the Canada Central Railway from Lebreton Flats to Carleton Place, and instantaneously, the future Westboro was born, beginning life as an industrial hamlet along the River.

Newspaper ad for the Canada Central
Railway from 1874

The first fire

On Halloween night of 1871, Skead's mill closed at the usual time of 6 p.m. The workers left, and the night watchman came on duty. There was nothing out of the ordinary on what was likely a quiet, cool evening.

At approximately 3 a.m., the watchman discovered a small fire which had begun suddenly in the "refuse and saw dust" under the main shaft of the year-old large wooden mill. He threw water on the flames using nearby buckets, then ran to the boarding house where the workers were sleeping. By the time he and the groggy mill employees arrived back to the fire, the flames were burning through the mill. The night was very dark, with a strong wind blowing north. The men tried very hard to save the engine house and boiler house, in order to keep the water pumps going. They succeeded by blocking the windows with wet blankets to keep the flames out, while also pouring a continuous stream of water onto the building. Others tried to enter the mill to save the tools and parts of the machinery, but were unable to do so, driven back by smoke and heat.  By the vicinity of the mill were piles of cut lumber/lathes/singles; these caught fire as well. A large amount of sawn timber that had been prepared for construction of railroad bridges and some "superior long square timber" for the English market was destroyed. Eventually, the workers had to abandon saving the mills, and put their efforts in to saving the piling grounds.

Thankfully, the strong northerly wind saved the majority of the lumber, as well as the office and some of the adjacent buildings.

By daylight, the mill was a "smouldering heap of blackened cinders". The workers continued all day on November 1st to keep the smouldering ashes from re-igniting and spreading to the piles. In the end, 230,000 feet of lumber was destroyed, plus many more rendered worthless by being charred at the ends. 60,000 laths, and 40,000 shingles were also consumed, a total of over half a million board feet. The loss was estimated at $40,000.

Skead had insurance, but it was minimal. He had $20,000 in insurance from four carriers ($4,000 from Etna, $4,000 Hartford, $4,000 Provincial, and $8,000 Royal), plus $15,000 of insurance on the lumber itself. However, the insurance was distributed over the various buildings and machinery, some of which was saved, so the insurance was to only cover about a quarter of the loss, not to mention the loss of business.

Skead had been improving the mill over the year it had been open, and estimated that more than that insured amount had already been invested into it. Skead told the Ottawa Free Press that he would not have sold the day prior for $80,000.

The morning after the fire brought many visitors to the scene. "Yesterday the ring and scream of its great circular saws were heard far up and down the water and the Richmond Road", reported the newspaper, but the area was silent on November 1st. The origin of the fire was rapt in mystery. Skead believed the cause to be the overly liberal use of oil around machinery, with the oil mixing with saw dust, causing spontaneous combustion. However, others thought that the fire was the work of an incendiary "evilly disposed towards Mr. Skead or some of his people". The fire was reported on throughout Canada and the United States, and no official cause was ever noted in the media.

In further evidence of his dedication to the people city of Ottawa, the Globe and Mail reported that later that day, Skead had an important meeting in Ottawa which he still attended. Skead, along with other key businessmen, were to organize an independent group (society) to procure immigrant labourers and servants for Ottawa and the area (the society had $15,000 available to pay travel money to bring workers here from Great Britain). Skead was appointed as part of a committee to draft a constitution that afternoon, mere hours after he suffered his devastating financial loss.

The new mill

Skead decided to rebuilt right away, and records show that it may have been up and running by late 1872 or early 1873. Very early reports indicated that Skead intended to be up and ready "in days", but clearly that was overly optimistic.

A rare 1873 photo of the vicinity of the new mill, within the first year of its construction has survived, and can be seen below. The log booms in the Ottawa River are visible, and some mill buildings can be seen in the distant background.

September 1873 view of the log booms by the new mill.
(Source: LAC MIKAN 3507060)

The name "Skead's Mills" would be selected in 1874 as the name of the new hamlet that had sprung up around the mill property. The locals applied for, and received a post office up on Richmond Road. When the first post office opened there on May 1st, 1874 in Rebecca Pratt's shop, it opened under the name of "Skead's Mills", honouring the Senator. A telegraph station was opened soon after.

Hon James Skead in April 1875
(Source: LAC, PA-025608)

Unfortunately for Skead, the economy was poor, and the timing of the fire and the expensive rebuild was very unlucky. An international trade depression began in 1873 and lasted for five years. Skead fell victim yet again, though to a different foe.

By 1877, Skead had run up a real estate mortgage to the Merchants Bank of Canada of over $243,000. A year later, he had to surrender ownership and walk away. In July of 1878, the Bank took over the property, and it appears the mill stopped running for a brief period.

The loss of the mill didn't destroy Skead financially, but it certainly left him severely wounded. He retained his social status, but had lost much of his empire. However, he still owned an impressive fur coat as of January 1879!:

James Skead, January 1879
(Source: LAC, PA-025500)

In November of 1880, Skead and his wife Rosina purchased the impressive stone house on Richmond Road, which is now better known as the Convent, just west of Island Park Drive. The house had been built 15 years prior, and Skead became its third owner. Though he had suffered significant losses at the mill site just to the northwest, he clearly had an affinity for the area, moving in to the Convent house on the small 6-acre property then known as "The Elms".

Skead resigned from the Senate in January 1881, as he did not feel confident continuing in his role after suffering from years of extensive financial difficulties. However, he was called again to the Senate later that same year by Sir John A. MacDonald, where he served until his death. In 1882 his lungs were seriously injured when he was thrown from a moving carriage. He was forced to largely retire from business, though in May of 1884 it was announced that Skead was to be appointed Post Master (I do not believe he ever took on the role). A few months later, Skead died at home on Richmond Road from his lung ailment, July 5th, 1884. His financial state at the time of his death was poor, and within a couple of years, his widow Rosina watched as most of the elements of his estate were foreclosed on or sold to pay back debts. This included The Elms (the Convent house), which transferred back in 1886 to the executors of George Washington Eaton, who had sold the house to the Skeads in 1880. (The Hollands would purchase from the executors a year later, though this story is best left for a focused article on the convent property itself someday soon).

On May 2nd, 1888, the final shreds of Skead’s great financial empire was sold off via a Judicial Sale. The Sun Life Assurance Company had foreclosed in a judgment in March, and so 5 parcels of Skead's land transferred to them: the east half of lot 31 south of Scott (77.25 acres); the east half 31 north of Scott (46 acres); the south half of lot 32 south of Scott (100 acres); and the north half of lot 32 south of Scott (18 acres).

Meanwhile, back at the old Skead's Mills site, the mill itself had been purchased at sale by the E. B. Eddy Company in September of 1880. It then changed hands a few times over a short period. Eddy sold it to Allan Grant in 1882, who mortgaged from the same Merchants Bank, then Grant sold to the British and Canadian Lumbering & Timber Co. Ltd in 1883, before Eddy repurchased in May of 1884 from Merchants Bank again for $100,000 after they foreclosed on the BCL&T Company. It is difficult to say if the mill had been out of operation at any point during this period. However, it is certain that by the summer 1884, the mill was running full bore under the direction of E.B. Eddy.

The mill ran successfully during the 1880s, with 250-300 workers, and the vast majority of the available space on the 40-acre property in use by the mill in some regard. It was known at this time as the “Eddy’s South Shore Mill”. Luckily, there are some great documents from this period which show in spectacular detail the layout and buildings of the mill property. After Eddy purchased the mill in 1880, fire insurance plan drawings were taken of the property, giving a three-dimensional view of the site and its many buildings. These plans can be seen below:

Goad Fire Insurance Map survey of the former Skead mill,
from December 1880.

Overhead plan of the entire site, with all details of the railway
tracks and siding, and the road to Richmond Road (which
would be roughly the location of Kirchhoffer today).

Overhead drawing of the north half of the property

Overhead drawing of the south half of the property

You'll notice on the survey each building is numbered. The legend for those buildings is as follows:
1 - Main sawmill building
2 - Engine house
3 - Boiler house with attached brick chimney 150' high
4 - Building for storage of hardwood
5 - Carpentry shop
6 - Ice house
7 - Watch house
8 - Main office
9 - Storehouse
10 - Boarding house
11 - Hay scales
12 - Blacksmith shop
13 - Stable
14 - Dwelling
15 - General shed
16 - General shed
Plus along the water is an unmarked building labelled "WC" (water closet, aka the outhouse)

These plans were the inspiration for two local artists who brought the mill to life through their modern-day illustrations.

Skead's Mill by Robert Prescott
(Source: "Early Days in Westboro Beach" by Bob Grainger)

Skead's Mill by Andrew King

The second fire

The evening of July 31st, 1888, a small fire had broken out at Booth's mill at the Chaudiere. Catastrophe had been avoided there, but Eddy's mill at Westboro would not be so fortunate the following day.

At 2:30 p.m. in the afternoon of August 1st, a spark hit the sawdust and shingles under the platform of the mill. Everything then happened quickly, “the flames leaping like a loosened giant and paralyzing the best efforts of the workmen”. "The whole mill became alight in one instant” said one worker.

Nelson Lascelle, a young boy working at the mill, had backed his cart up to the gangway on the south side of the mill to load up, when he discovered the fire, which he stated was only the size of his hand. He jumped off his cart and gave the alarm.

By a terrible stroke of bad luck, the fire had started exactly by where the hand-engine for use at fires was situated, and thus the hand-engine and its shed were the first to burn.

Frantic calls of “Fire, Fire!” went up, and all hands were on deck to fight the blaze. The emergency steam whistle began to blow (the engineer spread the valve wide, tied a string to a post and fled), and ran its shrill warning for half an hour until it was consumed by the flames.

A stiff breeze came in off the river “fanning the fire by a thousand different breaths”. Buckets of water from workers could do nothing. Within seconds, the largest and fiercest fire ever in the Ottawa area to that point had begun.

The office adjoining soon went up, then the storehouse (with blankets/provisions), followed by the stables and blacksmith shop. Efforts were then turned to protecting the boarding house (as men made frantic attempts to remove bedding and miscellaneous personal items), however “one gigantic wave of flame from the mill struck it, and in five minutes the boarding house was reduced to a pit of ashes as well as a large shed adjoining”.

Flames and smoke could be seen by all Ottawa and Hull residents. Hundreds from the city and area came, many offering help, but many there as "sightseers".

The fire began to move south and east, threatening the enormous lumber piles and the CPR freight cars on the track nearby.

The E.B. Eddy steam-powered fire engine arrived early via a special train on the CPR. It was quickly brought down to the edge of the river, fifty yards from the mill. Its hoses were stretched, it was steamed up, but by that point the fire was too large and had moved further away to the lumber piles. The 300 feet of leather hose attached were useless.

Then after 5 p.m. the Union engine came out. It had been called for just after mill caught, but it was over two and a half hours until it arrived, when the full property was already doomed. The Union set up 20 yards further into the bay, further up the lines of piles. It had 2 reels of hose, and briefly helped contain the fire within the yard.

Then the City-owned steamer engine Conqueror arrived afterwards (brought out by Ottawa Alderman Askwith), and placed by the water's edge. Askwith quickly commandeered an arrangement of six horses (four were not enough) to bring the engine over the rough ground on the banks of the bay. The engine was set up within 12 yards of Union, and featured 1,000 feet of hose. However, two lengths of its hose burst, delaying things even further. (It was later determined that the river was very shallow, and suction drew in chips, gravel, etc. creating air cushions in the hose, which, when pressure built, burst the hose. The air, not the water burst it. It was also later noted that the hoses had previously been burnt in a fire, and should never have been in use. After the mill fire, the City of Ottawa Fire and Light Committee agreed to buy all new hoses 2,000 feet total, for the Conqueror; too late for Eddy's mill however.)

Meanwhile the fire spread 800 yards to the lower end of the site; at one time 1,600 piles of cut lumber were on fire, with smoke pouring 300 feet into the air. Fire moved across the CPR track, burning the ties and curling the rails into odd shapes. In all, half a mile of track burned. At its peak at 5:30 p.m., the fire had a circumference of 3 miles.

The media would report the fire the following day in descriptive terms, such as: “Occasionally a gust of wind would blow from the lake, causing the flames to roar and bellow as if taunting the puny efforts of the firemen to make a break in the torrent of flame”, and “The smoke was dense and rolling off in heavy impenetrable black clouds, with the background of fiery flames rising majestically, reminding more than one of Dante’s description of the infernal regions”.

Soon the brush on the south side of the track caught fire (equivalent of where Scott Street runs today), and suddenly the houses along Richmond Road were in serious danger. Many made efforts to stop the fires progress by creating gaps, but the strong winds would carry it south. Eventually the full 40-acre property north of the CPR tracks was burnt out, and the fire was raging on the south side. By 7:30 p.m., the fire had jumped Richmond Road, opposite the Temperance Hotel (by the corner of Churchill Avenue), and caught a firm hold in Cole’s farm/bush (the current area west of Churchill, south of Richmond Road). It began to spread quickly, jumping tree to tree, and suddenly a second large fire was raging.

The residents of early Westboro began frantically moving their household possessions and furniture into the street and carrying them to a safe locality. John McKellar sent his wagons and horses up Richmond Road to collect and move people's items to his farm for safe-keeping, and Mr. McCormack the postmaster of the village also was using the wagons at his disposal to move personal effects. As occupants lost their houses, they began to help others try to save theirs. The newspapers reported that women and children were seen crying, holding on to the few meager possessions they could grab. The resident's stacked-up items would be saved in the end, but the following day, the residents had to go sort through the piles of items to find their possessions, most of which were badly damaged during the panic.

George Holland and his wife (who were now living in the Convent) were also early on scene and helped the villagers in their efforts. It was noted George was especially active in saving the old school house on Richmond. His wife Alison provided shelter, water and other necessities to the villagers.

Thankfully, the the winds began to died down at sunset, which helped tremendously, though several houses were eventually damaged or burnt entirely. The foreman's house closer to Richmond Road was saved, as well as most of the houses on or past Richmond Road. Virtually all of the dozen houses north of Richmond Road were destroyed, and 30 people left homeless. Some were still camping out days later; the newspapers reported that some were living on the site of the road, without even a tent or any necessities of life. “In some cases a counterpane placed over a ridge pole is all the shelter they have”.

When the fire was through, hardly any of the 7 million feet of lumber survived. All had been pre-sold (at sellers risk until shipped) to the Oswego Lumber Co, Shepherd & Morse of Burlington, and the Canada Lumber Company of Burlington. In the end, it was said that just four partly-burned piles of lumber were all that remained on site, while 19 carloads had been loaded on the tracks and sent to Britannia.

Estimates of the damage for the Eddy Company included the following calculation: $40,000 purchase price, over $20,000 in new machinery added, new office valued at $200, boarding house accommodating over 100 men valued at $3,000, store house/supplies at $3,000, blacksmith shop of $300, and stables at $400. Thus a total loss of real property of $66,900, plus 7 million feet of lumber valued at $120,000, for a total of $186,900. It was said that $1,000 worth of lumber had been burnt per minute that the fire raged.

Some reports in the States put it at a loss of anywhere from $300,000 to $500,000, though those reports were greatly exaggerated. The Canadian Journal of Commerce confirmed later in August that the final loss was $175,000. Insurance on the mill and buildings was $50,000, and on the lumber at $60,000. Therefore the net loss to Eddy was $65,000.

Ottawa Citizen headline - August 2, 1888

Ottawa Daily Free Press headline - August 2, 1888

Incredibly, there was no loss of life in the fire. There were many reports across North American newspapers of deaths (including one major newspaper which reported that three men and two boys had been lost in the shingle mill), but all workers and residents were accounted for. There were a few injuries. A young worker, Joe Berry, was badly burned on his neck, face, and hands, while six or seven other men were "scorched". One boy (William Stewart) had to jump from the upper window with his clothing on fire and was badly burned. He was reported as having been taken home “insensible”. Andrew Hobbs could not locate his son William Hobbs (an 18-year old slab-cutter) during the fire and went to look for him. He was overcome by the heat and fainted, and was taken away in a cart. William Stewart was reported dead in many US and Canadian newspapers, but had actually survived. I wonder if he ever got ahold of a copy of any of the distant newspapers which reported his being burnt to death?

The Ottawa newspapers attempted to describe the incredible scene the following day. "The smoke was fearful in its density and rose in great volumes, making people believe that the whole Richmond Road section was on fire.”, said the Citizen. The Ottawa Free Press noted: “Where yesterday the busy hum of industry was heard, and three hundred brawny men had earned a living, is this morning a wilderness of ashes." and also “To see huge piles of lumber for a length of some 100 yards one solid sheet of flame is a sight never to be forgotten, and one which has never before been seen in this section of the country.”

The cause of the fire was confirmed by E.B. Eddy to the Ottawa Free Press a few days later to be a spark flying from the furnace, despite all the precautions taken. Others who worked at the mill believed it was more likely someone who had lit a pipe and carelessly discarded the match which caused the fire, though this was never substantiated. Smoking was of course strictly prohibited, the penalty for which was immediate dismissal. Two months earlier, a spark had ignited the saw dust in the same area, but was discovered and put out quickly. The roof of the storehouse had also become alight at one point that summer, but was also put out. It seemed a major fire was practically inevitable. The cause potentially also may have been sparks from nearby bush fires. The week had been particularly warm and dry, and bush fires were raging in nearly every point around the city (Aylmer, Billings, Montreal Road, Orleans, and even one on the Stewart estate south of McLeod between Lyon and Bay).

All side tracks for the CPR were ruined, and the main line of was also damaged. All train travel was suspended. The morning train from Toronto was delayed at Stittsville, and had to wait two days to get through. CPR telegraph poles were destroyed, and the CPR sent out a special car which had field telegraph equipment, to connect with the portion of the line unbroken, and wire dispatches from that temporary location.

The workers of the mill were an upset bunch throughout and especially after the fire, as they realized their work and home and few possessions were all lost. Even their paycheque owed was up in the air; the day after the fire was to have been pay day.

The citizenry of Ottawa also felt the effects, as the significant loss of wood created a major shortage in Ottawa, leading to price increase in town.

At the end of it all, only the tall and blackened chimney remained, which “stood out as a sentinel” over the wide area of desolation that was once Skead's grand mill.

Life after the mill

The fire prompted an editorial that weekend in the Journal, which noted that Ottawa had an efficient and near flawless fire protection system, and was not as susceptible to a major fire as a Montreal newspaper had predicted, that Montreal “will be aroused from its fools paradise by a big conflagration”. The editorial noted that Ottawa (the city limits) rarely had fires, and had a smart chief and faithful group of high-quality firemen who always ensure that "the fire gets no chance". The paper took exceptional issue with the reporting of some of the suburban/rural fires, including the Skead's Mill fire as "Ottawa fires", “strengthening the erroneous impression that there is an extraordinary risk in carrying on business or living in Ottawa”. This false confidence would of course be proven wrong just a few years later when the major Ottawa-Hull fire of 1900 nearly wiped the city off the map.

Meanwhile, a month later on September 5th, 1888, the mill site and property was offered for sale at an auction at the Russell House hotel. Eddy put up for sale the blackened land, as well as the bits and pieces that had survived: the brick chimney, the refuse burner, the foreman’s house and stable, and the walls and foundations and equipment/machinery that were “more or less damaged”. No bids were made, and the sale was postponed.

Ottawa Journal, August 29, 1888
promoting the auction of the
former mill site.

Eddy would eventually find a buyer for the mill property on July 17th 1890, when he sold to the Ottawa real estate firm of Mutchmor-Gordon. The agents flipped the site a year later to the CPR for a tidy profit. (Mutchmor-Gordon used their profits on the flip on an agreement to purchase Maplelawn on Richmond Road and some of the adjoining Highland Park Dairy Farm, however changed their minds and invested in the Glebe instead).

The CPR announced it was considering building “extensive car and machine shops and workmen’s dwelling houses” on the site of the mill, the intention to build a model town on a small scale similar to Pullman near Chicago.

Ottawa Journal - July 14, 1892

The CPR did not go through with this plan, and also refused to sell the land for many years. It would not be until 1909, that the CPR agreed to sell the old mill site. Senator John N. Kirchhoffer in November 1909, purchased the full 70-acre site for $42,500.

Ottawa Journal
November 17, 1909

Kirchhoffer immediately subdivided the land and created the "Clarella Park" subdivision, which laid out the Westboro Beach community that we know today (aside from the obvious changes due to the establishment of the River Parkway in the 1960s).

The modern day history of the Westboro Beach community deserves an article all its own, and I'm sure someday I'll cover more of the 20th century history. In the meantime, if you don't already own it and/or haven't read it, I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy of Bob Grainger's "Early Days of Westboro Beach" book, which tells the full story of the community (and the beach) with lots of photos and first-hand interview accounts.

The remnants of Skead's Mills

If you have been a regular visitor to Westboro Beach over the years, then you have likely seen the ruins which still exist to the east of the beach, in front of the Kitchissippi Lookout parking area. The ruins were much more prominent in the early 1900s, but over time have disappeared as the area has grown and changes so much.

Ruins of the boiler house and brick chimney, circa 1900.
(Source: Early Days of Westboro Beach, Bob Grainger, p.40)

An early photo of Westboro Beach, May 13 1911.

The banks just east of Westboro Beach, May 13, 1911

Aerial photo of Westboro Beach in 1920. The ruins can be
seen just near the top of the photo, in the centre.

Westboro Beach in the spring of 1928, suffering through
flooding season. The ruins are quite visible where the shoreline
turns. Very primitive versions of Kirchhoffer, Atlantis, Royal
and Churchill Avenues can be seen in behind.

Aerial photo from 1933. West is at the top, the ruins can
be seen in the centre, towards the bottom. The boom house
has been constructed, located 50 feet from the shore in the
River, going towards the log booms.

The ruins in 2005 (source: Bytown.net)

The ruins in 2016 (source: quietfish.com)

I hope you've enjoyed the history of the mill which is so long gone 129 years now, but can absolutely be credited with creating Westboro, and bringing its first residents here. It's interesting to think how the area may have developed without it, certainly it would be different! It's great we still have some ruins from that massive fire from so long ago, a landmark to such a distant era in our area's past. What may be most tragic, however, is the lost link to the man responsible for all of this - the Hon. James Skead. After Skead passed away, all his land holdings in Westboro dispersed, and the mill burned and gone, the residents of the area in 1899 decided to change the name of the village too. Skead's Mills became Westboro, and the name was nearly forgotten. A few years later the Ottawa Land Association named its western-most street in their Wellington Village subdivision for Skead, the present day Western Avenue, which was then the western border of Ottawa, separating it from the Township of Nepean (the east side of Western was in Ottawa, the west side in Nepean). However even this name was later lost before annexation in 1950, when the name was changed to Western. The last link to Skead is in the name of the tiny street connecting the north ends of Fraser, Mansfield and Westminster; one of Ottawa's smallest streets, with no houses actually fronting on to it, a fair distance from the old mill site, and oddly enough on land which Skead never owned, surprising considering the quantity of land he did own. It is unfortunate that Skead is not acknowledged in Ottawa, let alone the community, in a grander way, considering all of his significant contributions during the 19th century. If we can look to him as being essentially the founder of Westboro, surely we should be doing more to recognize his importance to our community. In my eyes, it is long overdue!

The most unexpected sports club in Westboro's history

Civic, fraternal and sporting clubs have long been a significant part of Westboro's social fabric. Somewhat sadly, modern society has seen a drastic decline in the prevalence of many of these organizations that were the centre of social life in the first half of the twentieth century. Recreation and entertainment options have morphed substantially over the past 100 years.

Recently, I was told about a sporting club which existed for only a few years during the Great Depression, but surely can be considered one of the most surprising, unique and intriguing stories in Westboro's history. Would you believe that Westboro once was home to a rifle shooting club? That held its practices inside All Saints Church on Richmond Road? And which was made up entirely of teen-aged girls? It's true!

Check out the article in this week's Kitchissippi Times: https://kitchissippi.com/2017/02/16/ready-aim-fire-youll-get-a-bang-out-of-this-story/