The Snow Plough - A History

Snow ploughing was an invention driven by necessity. Between 1917 and 1920 the Ontario Department of Public Highways created a provincial highway system consisting of some 23 highways including Yonge Street, Dundas Street and the Provincial Highway, Highway No. 2 -- to accommodate the demands of rapidly growing vehicle ownership.

DPHO records show that in 1920 the sum of $1,486.00 was expended for snow clearing. The department had two ploughs -- it was the start. Each succeeding year brought increased demands for open roads during the winter, and by 1926-27, the department was keeping 1,200 miles of the highway system open for the in southern Ontario, spending $64,640 in the process.

Prior to 1920 apparently no attempts were made to keep Ontario highways clear of snow except for sleigh traffic. In any event driving in the depths of winter was problematic as the early cars didn't have snow tires, side windows, heaters, defrosters or anti-freeze. And most had to be hand cranked.

In fact sleighs would be used in many parts of Ontario through the 1930s and 1940s, especially in the north. Long-suffering residents in northern Ontario had to wait until 1937-38 before main routes were ploughed in any organized fashion.

Ontario's cities and towns had been clearing urban streets to one extent or another, since the mid-1800s, again because of necessity. Techniques included everything from gangs of men with shovels, horse-drawn plank ploughs, scoops, rollers, scrapers, drags and horse drawn graders -- to make streets passable for the horse-drawn vehicles of the time.

The idea of the rotary snowblower can be traced back to Toronto dentist J.W. Elliot in 1870. A few years later in 1877, the Champion horse-drawn road-scraper or grader was invented by Samual Pennock in Pennsylvania. These two inventions were critical to the future development of snow ploughing of roads in the 20th century.

Ontario's rapidly expanding railways, the preferred means of travel in the latter half of the 19th century, were the first to put pusher ploughs in front of steam locomotives in the 1860s. As an interesting note, the CPR put rotary snow ploughs into operation by 1884 -- as Canada's transcontinental railway was nearing completion through the Rockies.

The Toronto Streetcar Company garnered a contract from the city to put horse drawn trams on the tracks in Toronto in 1861. And as part of the agreement the company was required to keep its rights-of-way clear of snow. Even so the tram wheels were switched over to sleigh runners, just like the stagecoaches of the time when winter snows carpeted the city streets.

From time to time, clearing of the tracks raised the hackles of local Toronto storekeepers as this example reported in the February 12, 1881 issue of the Canadian Illustrated News explains: "... A 'battle royal' broke out between storekeepers and Street Railway Company employees after heavy snows. In clearing the tracks on the main streets the TSR ploughs piled up so much of the white stuff, no other vehicles could move. All the shop hands along the track turned out to shovel the snow back onto the tracks and a battle ensued. The TSR employees lost and ended up snowbound."

Development of electric power generation, powered trams and radial railways in the 1890s made it possible to clear snow from tracked right-of ways with powered equipment just like the railways. Powered brushes and special maintenance cars with ploughs were quickly developed to keep the trams running on time.

The invention of the internal combustion engine in the late 1800s -- gasoline and diesel - was another major step towards the snow ploughing of roads. And the development of the caterpillar tread and powerful diesel trucks during World War I set the stage for modern snow ploughing as we know it.

Rising vehicle ownership, especially after World War One and growing use of trucks to carry goods, drove the need for better roads and highways, as well the need to keep these thoroughfares cleared for traffic during the winter months. By the mid-1920s truck-mounted "V" type snow ploughs, truck mounted blade ploughs and truck-mounted rotary ploughs were all part of the provincial government fleet of 20 vehicles --- DPHO owned eight, 12 were rented.

Doc Anderson, a Port Hope patrolman, may have been DPHO's first snow plough operator in the early 1920s. He was interviewed about early snow ploughs in 1963. ".... They were quite different from today's modern machines and would only handle about one foot of snow under good conditions. ....So much snow would blow in around the side curtains (no windows) we often felt that we had more snow inside the cab than outside, and to keep warm we used a common farm oil lantern."

Snowploughs were dispatched from the DPHO garage in downtown Toronto, and worked their way through the white stuff all the way along Highway 11 to Orillia, Highway 27 to Owen Sound or Highway 2 to Hamilton or Port Hope and then back again. Operators would plough as many miles as they could, then stand upon the hospitality of local farmers to put them up for the night.

When the radiators overheated -- as there was no antifreeze in those days -- Doc Anderson noted, "....We had a funnel to put in the top of the rad to let snow melt and cool it down."

Another ploughing pioneer, Willard Randell also worked for DPHO in the 1920s and gives us an idea of some of the pitfalls in the early days. Willard and a sidekick on their own, decided to try out one of the new Snow-King rotary snowploughs on the Highway run from Toronto to Niagara Falls along the Lakeshore Road, Highway No. 2.

The pair started at night, chugging along and throwing snow up and away in great arcs. They managed to get as far as the Oakville-Burlington vicinity. However, the two neophytes decided to call it a night after breaking the windows of several farmhouses -- and partially filling a couple of bedrooms with snow. No doubt the minister received a letter or two.

By the early 1930s, Department of Highways residencies or districts were handling vehicle maintenance as well as snow ploughing on main highways in southern Ontario, but horse-drawn graders were still being used to clear some roads and highways in the Ottawa vicinity according to one report.

In northwestern Ontario Rainy River area storekeepers, farmers and pulp contractors banded together in two areas to clear snow from roads, -- forming the Grassy River Snowplough Association. the Rainy River Snowplough Assocation and the Rainy River Snowplough Club.

By the mid-decade major highways in southern Ontario were open to traffic during the winter, and the mixing of salt with sand before spreading on highways was common. DHO spent upwards of a half-million dollars for snow clearing in 1936 and owned 50 ploughs.

Still the government had made no definite decision about the need to keep highways in northern Ontario open to traffic although they were being pressed to do so. However, a few Department of Northern Development snow ploughs were available for northern "trunk roads" in cases of "sudden emergency".

The strangled provincial economy brought about by the Great Depression was in part responsible for a shortage of maintenance dollars for snow ploughing. This state of affairs improved when the Department of Northern Development was merged into the Department of Highways in 1937 and DHO applied its organization and expertise to northern Ontario highways.

Even in the 1940s, highway treks during wintery weather were only for the hardy. A shortage of staff and new equipment, rationing of tires and fuel during the Second World War meant tough going. Department of Highways staff were hard put to keep snow cleared even on Highway 2, the province's main east-west highway during the severe winters of 1943-44 and 1944-45.

The late Jim Vanderleck, a retired Ontario Hydro engineer, told a fascinating story about a round trip he took from Toronto to Ottawa and back via Highways 2 and 16 in the snowy winter of 1943. The way Jim told it, "...the highway essentially was one set of frozen ruts about six inches deep...so I just put my wheels in the ruts and bumped and slithered all the way to Ottawa."

On his way back from Ottawa at one point near Kemptville in eastern Ontario, Jim skidded, did a 180, and ended up facing the wrong way in the ruts. He had to backtrack for about 10 miles until he found a lane where a farmer had chopped into the highway ruts for his own access. "At that point I did three-point turn and proceeded on my original Toronto-bound course."

To improve forward visibility, Jim said he used liquid glycerin purchased at a drugstore and smeared it on the windshield inside and out. Even so, it meant constantly scraping a viewing hole in the frosted windshield with a putty knife. By the time he arrived in Toronto many hours later, Jim was blue with the cold as his old car had no heater. "Highway 7, was in even worse condition than Highway 2," Jim noted.

The blizzard on December 12, 1944 was another matter. It paralysed Toronto with 20.5 inches of snow and it took more than a week for DHO ploughs to dig the Toronto area and Niagara highways out after that one. Continuing heavy snowfalls through the winter forced DHO to move snowblowers from traditional snowbelt areas into southern Ontario to bolster operations.

Tire chains, the motorist's friend, were in common use long before, during and after World War II; but car heaters, windshield defrosters and washers, and snow tires were not commonly available until the 1950s. Air conditioning, on the other hand, had been introduced on the 1940 Lincoln.

Increasing numbers of cars and trucks in the booming fifties and sixties, coupled with massive development of multi-lane divided highways like Highways 400 and 401, created even greater demand for more snow clearing on Ontario's highways. Ploughing was accompanied by the increased use of salt to keep heavily-travelled commuter routes free of ice and snow.

By the early 1960s Ontario highways were being cleared of snow and ice by a virtual army of vehicles (2,100) and men (6,500) -- at a cost of more than $15.5 million annually. Bigger trucks, better ploughs, and tandem ploughing was introduced as 401 was widened through Toronto -- with echelons of two, three ploughs and four ploughs at a time on the 12-lane Metro freeway.

DHO's own staff invented and built a rotating type of salt and sand spreader, hydraulic-powered and calibrated so that its rate of flow kept pace with the speed of the vehicle. The result, more effective deicing and efficient use of salt.

Another DHO staff invention in the 1960s which for some reason ended up as a non starter, was the invention of a plough with a gate, so operators ploughing rural highways could avoid piling up windrows at the entrances to farm lanes and driveways. This is still a problem for rural residents.

Communications technology was also coming into its own with radio-telephone equipped trucks. Most of DHO's district offices were also equipped with teletypes and connected with DHO's new Downsview headquarters -- from where the unceasing battle against snow and ice was directed by experienced maintenance staff.

By the early 1970s, although unstated, DHO was operationally practicing a "clear roads policy," at least on freeways and major highways in southern Ontario. Northern highways were and are still are another matter. Continuous sub-zero temperatures, blizzards, freeze and thaw cycles, ice and snow pack build-up give Mother Nature a definite edge over the best snow clearing equipment and deicing chemicals.

The use of salt increased by leaps and bounds in efforts to keep major routes ice-free -- so much so that DHO initiated research studies aimed at mitigating the effects of rust on its own vehicles in the 1960s. More than 288,000 imperial tons of salt was being spread on Ontario highways in 1970 and by the winter of 1974-75 two years after DHO became The Ministry of Transportation and Communications, 400,000 tons of salt was being spread on our highways.

Taxpayers cars were another matter -- despite the introduction of rust proofing, they just rusted away in their hundreds of thousands throughout the 60s, 70s and early 80s mainly because of the salt. It wasn't until the mid-1980s that car manufacturers found solutions to rusting cars -- domestic and offshore companies redesigned their vehicles and began to use one-sided galvanized steel panels which were more rust-resistant.

The Ministry of Transportation and Communications, conducted extensive research into alternative chemical deicers from the late 1970's into the early 1990s, including calcium magnesium acetate; but none could approach salt in effectiveness throughout a broad range of winter temperatures and conditions -- or its low price.

Subsequently The Ministry of Transportation turned to salt reduction methodologies, the use of sand and salt mixtures, and ways to spread less salt more effectively. New electronic technologies have also been utilized to assist maintenance staff in forecasting icing conditions on bridges and roadways. And the search continues for substitute deicers and methods to make more efficient use of salt throughout North America.

When winter storms drop all that white stuff, the mighty snow ploughs still rumble down Ontario's roads and highways pushing snow off to the side so shoppers, commuters, skiers, snowmobilers, cottagers and truckers can get to where they want to go in relative safety and ease.

However, it costs a bit more to keep Ontario's highways clear of snow today than the $1,486.00 spent in 1920 -- hovering around $140-million dollars each year.

Copyright © January, 2000 by John G. Shragge

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Permission to photocopy should be requested from the author.

There are at least three stories about the origins of the white lines on Ontario's roads and highways. Like many innovations, more than one person seems to have had the same good idea over a number of years -- to stop horseless carriages from bashing into each other.

According to the evidence, and eminent historian Edwin C. Guillet concurred -- Canada's first traffic markings originated in Ontario. He placed the date at 1930 and credited John D. Millar, an young innovative Department of Highways engineer, who at the time, was in charge of construction on Kings Highway # 2 at Lake St. Francis.near the Quebec boundary.

To guide motorists Millar directed his work crew to paint white lines placed at 300 foot intervals down the centre of the road. His supervisor soon arrived and asked, "What do you think you're going to do J.D ... paint lines on all the highways of the province?"...To add insult to injury his supervisor made him erase all the paint.

Nonetheless, by 1935 traffic markings had appeared on many highways in Ontario. And that bright light, J.D. Millar, eventually rose through the ranks to become one of DHO's longest serving deputy ministers (1943-1954).

But, before we say "I told you so," The 1928-29 Ontario Department of Public Highways annual report reveals that line or zone painting was in limited use on Ontario highways two years before J.D. Millar put his crew to work and we quote:

"...The years 1928 and 1929 have seen a great increase in the mileage of centre-line painting of highways on curves and over crests of hills. The painting we feel has been the means of greatly reducing highway traffic accidents. It consists of a white painted strip 6 inches in width, which required to be painted at least twice a year, particularly on the sections where traffic is heavy..."

Another story pre-dating J.D. Millar that takes us to 1919 and it is a doozie. Some years ago writer David Parry dug up this information for an article in the Imperial Oil Review -- he agreed with Edwin Guillet that the white line originated in Ontario. Here's the story:

Back in 1919, two doctors and a businessman were renting garage space at the City Parking Garage at 34 Water Street, Galt, Ontario. As often happens, each found the other, from time to time, blocking their allotted quota of space. In an effort to forestall an undue argument, garage employee Robert Hunter dreamed up the idea of painting white lines to separate the parking the spaces.

As Hunter was painting the lines, in walked the Honourable Frank C. Biggs, Ontario's Minister of Public Works and Highways, (1919 to 1923) and a resident of Greensville. As Mr. Hunter recalled many years later:

"When Mr. Biggs came out of the office, he saw me standing there with quart can of white paint in one hand and a brush in my other hand. He asked me what I was painting. I told him about Dr. Cumming's complaint, and that I hoped they would keep on their sides of the lines I was painting."

"...Then I said to him that I wished there was a line on the new pavement at the corner in front of his farm. On the previous Sunday night I had been crowded off the road there by another car in a fog. I also said if the line was extended far enough, you could tell when you were coming to the corner on a foggy night..."

According to Hunter, the Honourable. Mr. Bigg's reaction to the idea was:

'...He thought for a moment, then said he had trouble locating the two curves at Clarkson when he was returning home Friday night after a late session of the House..."

"I thought no more of the matter until about two weeks later. I was on my way to Hamilton and there was a white line painted on the pavement in front of his (Mr. Bigg's) farm where the road curves sharply towards Bullock's Corners. A few weeks later, Bullock's Corners and two sharp curves at Clarkson were marked by white lines..."

A third account comes from sources in Burlington, Ontario and focusses on Maxwell Smith, a popular Mayor of Burlington from 1914 to 1919. According to the story -- confirmed in a letter from Mr. Maxwell's daughter and another from Frank Oakie of the Hamilton Auto Club in 1964.

In addition to his role as Mayor, Maxwell Smith sat on the Toronto Hamilton Highway Commission (THHC), the body which oversaw construction of the first concrete highway built between Toronto and Hamilton (1914-17).

One day, according to this story, a group of THHC commissioners were discussing how to make driving safer on curves after a meeting. Maxwell Smith suggested painting white lines down the centre of the road. This idea was soon adopted throughout the country.

Using some sort of delineator or painted lines to divide a roadway into two opposing lanes of traffic was inevitable given the rising automobile ownership during and after World War 1 -- along with the growing use of trucks.

Mass production also made ownership of an automobile affordable in the prosperous post World War 1 era, and by the mid-1920s rapid increases in the number of vehicles resulted in the first Ontario Highway Traffic Act (1923) gasoline tax (1925), general licensing of drivers (1927), and the first Public Commercial Vehicles Act (1928).

Pressure to improve safety and driver education also came from organizations like the Ontario Motor League and the Ontario Good Roads Association. At the same time highway engineers were formulating new highway standards again under the auspices of the Canadian Good Roads Association.

But back to white lines -- If you widen the search, you find that the idea of dividing roadways for opposing lines of traffic pre-dates the 20th century by a long measure. M.G. Lay, author of "Ways of the World" writes that the Spanish used a white line to divide a short section of cobbled road built between Mexico City and Cuernavaca in or about the year 1600. In this instance white cobblestones were used to divide the roadway.

The use of centre lines may have even began with the Roman Emperor Trajan, according to Lay. This emperor apparently had his engineers use a row of elevated stones to create two lanes on the road he built north from Ezion-Geber to Petra in the Middle East.

Lay also notes that the first modern pavement line marking in the U. S. began on the Brooklyn Bridge in 1883 and that the first pavement application was possibly in 1907 when stop lines were used in Portsmouth, Virginia.

He goes on to write that Edward Hines in Wayne County, Michigan introduced centre lines on bridges and road curves in 1911 following a near collision between a car and a horse and buggy on a bridge.

The conclusion so far -- there is no doubt DHO superiors took note of J. D. Millar after the painting incident in 1930 -- so he undoubtedly deserves the credit for getting the idea adopted on highways in Ontario. Frank C. Biggs, Maxwell Smith and Robert Hunter should probably share the credit too -- for understanding the immediate safety benefits of lane markings for drivers.

Certainly there are more stories about the arcane subject of how dotted white lines came to be -- in each Canadian province as well as the many U.S. states. The writer would be pleased to hear from anyone who can shed more luminescence on this topic.

Copyright © June, 2000 by John G. Shragge

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Permission to photocopy should be requested from the author.

During the first years of the 20th century drivers of horseless carriages ventured beyond the city limits with much the same feeling of adventure and dread of the unknown as Cabot and Cartier when they set sail for the new world. All had one thing in common - they weren't sure when and if they would get back.

The Lakeshore Road running between Toronto and Hamilton constituted one of these great motoring adventures. First pushed through in the early 1800s and improved from time to time over the next century, it followed the route of an old Indian trail along the shore of Lake Ontario.

But even as late as World War I it was more reliable to travel the Lakeshore Road by horse and buggy, and quicker to take a train between Toronto and Hamilton, according to a newspaper report of the day. Traffic congestion was becoming a constant problem and at one point, the Lakeshore Road (along with other roads) was nothing but deep sand for more than five miles.

Local farmers were quick to cash in the plight of the adventurous by keeping teams of horses at the ready to haul unwary motorists out of the sand traps. Purely for business reasons, some entrepreneurs also kept a few barrels of water handy to bait the worst of the traps.

A rising torrent of complaints about the abysmal state of the Lakeshore Road and other area roads by motorists led to a chain of events which produced Canada's first concrete highway (1916); a new Department of Public Highways (1917); a new epoch in travel habits; and Ontario's first highway network (1920).

Jobs were scarce in 1914 just at the start of World War I, and associations like the Ontario Motor League seized the chance to point out that a permanent highway between Toronto and Hamilton would create jobs for the unemployed. This, in turn, brought about the creation of the Toronto Hamilton Highway Commission (THHC) by the provincial government. A few years later the THHC became part of the new Department of Public Highways.

Back in those days, however, no one in Ontario had ever built a fully paved highway, with the exception of a few stretches of municipal concrete model road. A major obstacle was the financing. The Toronto Hamilton Highway Commission's first task was to create support for its project from the mayors and reeves of all the townships through which the proposed highway would travel.

It is to the credit of these enlightened local officials that they offered to finance one-third of the cost of the sections which would run through their municipalities. At that time no one had any conception that a highway would bring a financial return. More than one reeve bemoaned the fact that land prices along the proposed route were already dropping.

By the time the project started in 1915, fear had changed to curiosity, and the strange conglomeration of machinery which had been amassed to construct the road garnered the attention of even the least curious.

The equipment included newly developed equipment such as automatic concrete mixers, along with horse-drawn graders, steam engines, brewers' drays and an assortment of equipment previously used in the building of Ontario's railways. The owners of the railway equipment were delighted someone had found a use for it -- as the construction of new railways had ebbed by the mid-teens.

For the first few months things went well on the Toronto-Hamilton project. Then came a snag which sent the original cost of $650,000 soaring by another 50 percent.

At an emergency meeting in February 1916 in the Parliament Buildings in Toronto, the the THHC commissioners broke the bad news to municipal officials. They confessed that bridge building had been left out of the original estimates, the thought being that the existing bridges would do. Officials were asked if they could see their way to contribute towards another $350,000 needed to build about 50 bridges and culverts.

The meeting was understandably a heated one. Asked by Commission Chairman George Gooderham (he was also an Ontario MPP) for ways of raising the money, one reeve shot back:

"If the commissioners had been conducting their private businesses in the same way as they have been their public business, there would not be very many of their concerns still running."

However, the money was voted. Probably, the deciding factor was the condition of the existing bridges which were mostly of wood construction. The majority were 19th century structures that had outlived their usefulness, and not one of them could stand more than a five-ton load.

The THHC was now faced with another problem - finding experienced bridge engineers. When the commission's engineers first looked at plans drawn up by an engineering firm for the new bridge over Oakville Creek, they thought they were seeing double. A 'seven-foot hump' had been put in the middle -- enough to launch into orbit any car travelling at even 20 miles an hour.

It was back to the drawing board for the plans. Proper borings had not been made on the site, and it was found that there was a sudden drop in bed-rock of 200 feet under the river bed. Thus, special archings and footings had to be constructed--but the result was "a pretty fine piece of work."

When completed, the Oakville Creek bridge did more to establish the prestige of the road builders than it did for traffic. People came from miles to see it -- visible proof that Ontario's engineers could build bridges as fine as any in the world.

And motorists were also amazed at the smooth riding surface of the highway itself. Considering they had been raised on a diet of potholed and dusty gravel roads or rutted, muddy concession roads this is easy to understand.

The new highway was 18 feet wide with a concrete pavement from six to eight inches thick. It was a joy to all, except for the garage owners who had been used to doing a fine business with car owners, who previously had averaged five tyre punctures to a 20 mile trip. The farmers along the road also had to retire their water barrels or move them to other venues.

As the Toronto-Hamilton Highway neared completion, the townships who had been loudest in their opposition to the project suddenly became earnest backers. Excitement grew. Bets were placed as to when work would reach the next community. The new highway became the favourite family weekend excursion.

Finally, the highway was finished. The ribbon cutting took place at the west end of the Humber bridge outside Toronto, on a frosty, blustery day in November 1917. It was a band-playing affair at which civic officials from both cities attended.

However, those who participated in the motorcade to inaugurate the new road had a frosty trip in the unheated open autos of the day. Even so, the 35-mile journey from Toronto to Hamilton could now be driven in the incredibly short time of nearly two hours, from city hall to city hall. It was indeed a revolution of mobility.

Within a few months, the creators of the first paved highway in Canada discovered they had built, not only a highway, but a new way of life. Land prices, along the route of the highway outside the two cities, shot sky high. The well-heeled bought country estates and began commuting to the cities. Carriage of goods by truck increased. Stores were built and residential areas with moderately-priced homes were planned.

And for the first time, Ontarians began to reap the benefits of a good highway. The very farmers who had complained about failing land prices were now reluctant to sell until prices topped out. Automobile sales jumped in both Hamilton and Toronto. On Sunday afternoons it became a family event to tour along the new concrete pavement.

The new highway also boosted tourism. For the first time automobiles with New York licence plates could be seen exploring Ontario's hinterland. Soon traffic volumes rose from 25 to 500 a day. And in 1925 the Lakeshore Road was incorporated into Ontario's highway system as part of Highway No. 2, the first trans-provincial highway.

Today, of course, The Lakeshore Road between Toronto and Hamilton has become an arterial road because of the massive urban development in all the communities along its length. But the odd Highway 2 trail blazer can still be found here and there if you have a keen eye.

Copyright © August 2001. by John G. Shragge. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Permission to photocopy should be requested from the author.

For almost 25 years, William (Bill) Weller's stage coaches were an everyday part of the landscape on the main roads in old Ontario. He was one of the shakers and movers of his time -- the shaking from the terrible roads, and the moving part from his line of business.

Born in Vermont and trained as a lawyer, Weller emigrated to Upper Canada with his wife Mercy in the early 1820s. He was a quick study and ambitious. After settling in the Village of Cobourg, he gravitated into a successful career in land speculation like many others of his time.

By the early 1830s he bought into a number of stage coach lines. But the key to Weller's business success was securing a number of lucrative government mail contracts. He managed to hold on to most of them through the rough and tumble of Upper Canadian politics and freebooting capitalism for more than 20 years -- and in the process becoming Ontario's best stage coach entrepreneur.

Running a scheduled stage coach service in the 1830s must been challenging -- for the roads were a miserable mess of rough corduroy, mud and pitch holes for most the year and some rivers weren't bridged. Equally, passengers had to endure the crashing and bruising ride of the leather strap-sprung coaches as they lurched from one sinkhole to another.

Even so, Weller became a joint proprietor of the York-Kingston stage route in December, 1829 and by June 1830 had established his first stage coach line from York to Prescott. Weller's "Royal Mail Line" stages as they came to be called, managed to maintain reliable service. This demanded detailed organization and management as post depots had to be maintained every 15 miles with fresh horses.

In an early advertisement, Bill Weller assured his clients that the stages would leave "...York every Monday and Thursday at 4 a.m. arriving at Carrying Place in Prince Edward County in the evening..." Passengers were to be met by the steamboat Sir James Kempt (at 4 a.m.) which transported them the rest of the way arriving in Prescott before nightfall. The fare for the total route was £2 10s.

Weller emphasized that "...the road (was) being very much repaired and the line fitted up with good horses, new carriages and careful drivers".

Hundreds of accounts penned by early travelers describe the travails of stage travel. Adam Fergusson, a rather portly gentleman, left a written account about a one-day stage coach trip from Cornwall to Prescott in 1831 that became into a two-day trip. Soon after leaving Cornwall, the splinter bar gave way on the coach and the passengers had to wait for someone to come out to repair the damaged rig. Further into the trip the coach became mired in the mud:

"...In one very bad clay hole with a steep bank, our machine fairly stuck fast and was all but upset...the coachman was obliged to repair to a neighbouring farm for a team of oxen, while some of the party provided themselves, sans ceremonie, with stakes from the adjoining fence, to be ready with their aid. In due time the oxen arrived, the body of the carriage was lifted off the frame and the wheels extricated, the whole affair being transacted without any symptoms of bad humour ... "

Fergusson's main complaint was that the coach was not equipped with a door and that it was difficult for a man of his dimensions to climb in and out through the window.

Depiction of the "Royal Mail" by artist C.W. Jeffreys left, and Weller Stage passing Trinity Church, Toronto by artist Rowley Murphy, right

Weller as it turned out was also obliged, in part, to maintain the roads his stage coaches used -- with a bit of government help. In 1835, for example, he had to petition the House of Assembly for a grant so he could repair the road between Highland Creek and Duffins Creek, between West Darlington and Brown's Mills, and from Brighton to the Trent River.

He also needed £500 to build what may have been the first bridge across the Rouge River and to cut down the hill on the east side of the Rouge. A year later Weller petitioned for another £600 he claimed he had to pay out of his own pocket to complete the project.

At the same time as he was building his coaching business, Weller also became involved in one of the earliest schemes to build a railway in Canada -- from Cobourg to Rice Lake in 1835. However the the Cobourg Rail Road Company proposal fizzled.

As Bill Weller's network grew, more depots were erected for the convenience of local passengers who wanted to buy tickets or ship freight. Weller's stage office in Toronto was strategically located at the apex of the Coffin Block, at the gore formed by Wellington (then Market), Front and Church Streets.

But that kind of irritation didn't slow down Weller. In 1840 he bought the stage line from Toronto to Hamilton and shortly afterwards extended stage service from Toronto to Holland Landing via Yonge Street.

In another venture he became president of the Cobourg and Rice Lake Plank Road and Ferry Company in 1846 -- essentially a reworking of the 1830's rail proposal. Unfortunately, before the plank road was even completed to Rice Lake, the carefully laid planks were heaved and twisted by the frost in the winter of 1847-48. By the 1850s, however, it was described by travelers as one of the best roads in the area.

Weller's steam ferry passenger and freight business running across Rice Lake and on the Otanobee River, another facet of the company's operations, went along swimmingly as did the Weller-operated steam ferry on the Trent River.

Weller also became a joint-stock owner in a scandalous venture, the Cobourg and Port Hope Road Company along with other Cobourg businessmen. The toll house and gate apparently went up even before the road was properly completed and gravelled. This lathered local residents into such a state that someone burned the toll house to the ground in 1848 -- along with the gate.

Also in 1848, Bill Weller decided to enter politics and successfully ran for mayor of Cobourg. Soon after, he arranged the purchase by the town, of the floundering Port Hope and Rice Lake Road for £4000. One might assume he recouped some of his losses by this manoeuvre. -- a finesse that would be considered slightly below board for an elected official today.

While he was mayor, his stage business was booming. Weller stage coaches ran between Cobourg, Port Hope and Peterborough; from Toronto to Kingston; and between Kingston and Prescott. And in 1849 Weller won the contract for the Prescott-Montreal mail run from the Post Office, thus extending his stage coach network all the way from Hamilton to Montreal, a distance of 400 miles (643 km).

However, Bill Weller really made a name for himself because of an amazing feat in the winter of 1840. The Governor-General, The Right Hon. C. Poulett -Thomson, (Lord Sydenham) needed to get to Montreal as fast as possible. According to one account it was to reprieve a condemned prisoner from the hangman's noose ­ another, that it was to catch a steam packet sailing for England.

Poulett-Thomson, called on Weller at his Toronto stage office. Bill Weller quickly agreed to the request, and decided to drive the Governor-General himself. But before they left, Weller being a sporting man, bet £1,000 with some cronies that he could cover the 360 miles between Toronto and Montreal in under 38 hours.

He knew the odds were favourable as it was February, and the route was snowbound -- the surface hard and fast. The Governor was tucked in to a warm bed in a covered stage sleigh, the start officially timed, and with Weller at the reins and cracking a 20-foot lash, they were off at 6 a.m on a Monday morning. A second sleigh followed with the governor-general's staff.

Every 15 miles Weller's hostlers stood ready at the post stations with four fresh horses, hot food and drink. Without a stop for sleep, Weller drove through the night and the next day. And 37 hours and 40 minutes later, at 7.40 p.m. on a Tuesday, pulled up his steaming horses outside the Montreal stage office. In addition to winning his side bet, Weller received £100 from the appreciative Governor-General and an engraved gold watch.

It was an amazing accomplishment considering that the regular trip by coach and four usually took four and a half days, including stops for meals and overnight stays at the many wayside inns. Weller averaged nine to 10 mph throughout the journey with speeds reaching 15 mph. In comparison, wheeled coaches could only average speeds of three to six miles per hour during the summer months.

Although Toronto became a key hub for the Weller network, Cobourg was his home. Here, he had a carriage works for the manufacture of stage coaches as well as a repair shop. Most Weller coaches were built there although a few were imported from the U. S. Meticulous care was taken in the quality and appearance of his stages.

Weller stage in front of the Albion Hotel in Cobourg -- from an old business card

Depiction of Weller winter stage at Finkle's Tavern near Bath circa 1830 by J.C. Cotton.

The Cobourg Star of December 18,1837 eulogized one of Weller's newly turned out "Royal Mail Line" coaches:

"...On Saturday morning last Mr. Weller, stage proprietor and carriage manufacturer of this town made a splendid new turn out from his establishment of a very handsome stage coach and six, driven in hand, intended for the line of six horse stages newly established by him between Toronto and Hamilton. The carriage is of improved construction, and being painted a light yellow (Red in earlier years), with the harness entirely new and drawn by six spirited bay horses , it made an imposing appearance..."

His coaches, the limousines of their day, were even equipped with portable escritoires, although one wonders how anyone could use quill and ink while crashing up, down and sideways over the miserable roads.

Carrying Her Majesty's Royal Mail was lucrative, but troublesome. The government contracts were bureaucratic labours of love specifying every operation in minute detail. The verbiage was impressive, describing the exact distance, departure and arrival times, the speed stages were to achieve -- how and when and from whom the mail was to be picked-up. Government agents were also sent out to audit the stage operations.

A rapidly growing population during the 1840's and 1850's also resulted in demands for faster and more reliable mail delivery. Weller apparently had trouble, or skimped meeting some of his postal commitments. He was upbraided by postal officials time and again for giving carriage of passengers and freight (pig iron in one instance) preference over the "Royal Mail".

As a result, in late 1852, the Postmaster General tried to bypass Weller and awarded the 1853 contract on the Kingston-Montreal route to another operator. Weller had no recourse but to petition John A. MacDonald (It helps to have friends in high places), then Attorney-General of Canada West, to help him get compensation of £2,625 in damages -- the value of the contract.

However, it was railways, especially the opening of Grand Trunk Railway in 1856, that eventually spelled the end to Weller's coaching empire and the decline of coaching on major routes like the Kingston Road. This revolutionary mode of transport was quicker (15 to 25 mph) and could carry large numbers of passengers and huge volumes of freight.

Weller slashed his stage coach fares and even bought a controlling interest in the International Telegraph line in February, 1854 -- hoping to compliment his coach operations with a communication system throughout the province to maximize efficiency.

In the same year, he invested in, and promoted a rival project, the Cobourg and Peterborough Railway, with other local Cobourg businessmen. He became a director in March 1855. However the board agreed to construction of a causeway across Rice Lake -- to save the expense of pushing the rail line through hilly country to the west. This turned out to be a fatal error.

The causeway pilings weren't sturdy enough or set deep enough, and shifting lake ice severely damged the long rail structure during the very first winter, and in subsequent years. Attempts to use fill to make a permanent causeway across the lake became too expensive and were never completed. As a result rail traffic was always compromised and eventually the causeway became too dangerous to use.

When the rail venture failed in 1860, Weller was forced to mortgage most of his property in downtown Cobourg to pay off his creditors. It put an end to a colourful business career and an important era in development of Ontario's road transportation.

Copyright © January 2002 by John G. Shragge. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. Permission to photocopy should be requested from the author.

Email John Shragge for historical roads: shragge@pathcom.com

Click here: For the Latest Story

Click here: To view the Rear View Mirror

Click here: For the Kitchen Sink

Click here: For the Story Archive

Press here: For the Background Listing

Click here: For Historical Links

Click here: For Road Rhyme

Click here: For Pithy Road Stuff

Home: