Arthur Davis Moorecroft: Conductor

The TTC and its red streetcars have been a fixture on Toronto streets for over 100 years. Before that the Toronto Street Railway ferried Torontonians around. So it was exciting to learn that a Moorecroft ancestor worked for the Toronto Transit Commission.

Trolley Car 22 About 1904 Baldwin Collection of Canadiana

Arthur Davis Moorecroft, my husband’s great grandfather, was born in Northern Ireland on 12 July 1865, the fifth of six children born to Robert Moorecroft and Ellen Hunter. Ellen tragically died at the age of 40 in 1870 leaving Robert to make the move to Canada on his own. In May of 1873 the family crossed the Atlantic, travelling from Belfast to Quebec City. 

Manifest from the Missouri, Library and Archives Canada

The Moorecrofts settled in the village of Norway in the east end of Toronto with Robert purchasing a plot of land at the corner of Woodbine Avenue and Kingston Road (imagine what that land is worth today!).  

1886 Toronto City Directory, Baldwin Collection 

Looking through census records and city directories I was able to trace Arthur’s path.He first shows up in the 1886 Toronto City Directory working for Charles Ferguson.

From here on Arthur had a varied career path. When his first child, Ethel May, was born on 30 August 1886 he is listed as a cricket ball maker, working for Prest & Braun. The skills Arthur gained working with leather harnesses were transferable to creating cricket balls. Cricket was still popular in Toronto at this time, however, most cricket equipment in the 19th century was imported from England so this might not have been the most lucrative of career paths. It was time to change jobs as well as location.

1887 Toronto City Directory, Baldwin Collection

Ethel, Alma and Arthur, the first three children of Arthur and his wife Agnes Jane White were born in Toronto. But by the time the 1891 census was taken the Moorecroft family had moved to Markham where Agnes had been born and raised. Her father, William White, had been a hotel keeper up until his unfortunate death on 16 December 1880 following an 11 day bout of typhoid fever. His widow Sarah Jane had carried on with the inn but by 1892 she was on her third marriage and ready to move on. It was perfect timing and Arthur was ready for his new career. The Globe and Mail published a list of those granted licenses to sell liquor for the next year on 4 May 1892. Arthur was included on the list.

Being an innkeeper worked for Arthur a while. His next two children, Herman and Frederick, were born in Markham and the entire Moorecroft brood was baptized at the Bethlehem Evangelical Lutheran Church in Buttonville on 20 June 1894. Arthur’s younger sister Maggie and her husband Robert Lewis joined the family in Buttonville as well. We’ll never know what went wrong but by the time Percy was born in 1895 the family had returned to Toronto. Perhaps running a hotel was not to Arthur’s liking. I haven’t been able to determine the name or location of the White/Moorecroft Inn. Further research needed! In the 1898 Toronto directory Arthur is listed as a brick maker, working with his brother Thomas for Isaac Price. Manual labour was apparently not to Arthur’s liking either. Fortunately he was able to find a job that suited him until hist retirement in 1937.

In the 1900 Toronto City Directory the entry reads:

Subsequent censuses and city directories confirmed his ongoing employment first with the Toronto Street Railway and later the Toronto Transit Commission. Interestingly, in the 1908 and 1909 directories Arthur is listed as a Helper at the A B Ormsby Roofing Company—perhaps there was a temporary layoff? In any event, every other directory through 1937 reflects his job as a conductor.

The City of Toronto archives houses the TTC collection which includes employment records and more, for both the TTC and the Toronto Railway Company. Record of Conductors and Motormen, the register for employees covering the years 1885 to 1908 contained the following entry:

Fonds 16 Series 96 File 1,  City of Toronto Archives

His route was King East and his badge number 727. Some of the other employees were scratched out with a resignation or termination date noted. Sadly a few employees were killed on the job. Arthur was not scratched out, which seems to verify that his tenure continued on into the next century. Perhaps management did not return to older volumes to update employment status.  

Toronto Star 24 April 1901

Transit employees appeared to be a tight knit group, as evidenced by the this clipping from The Toronto Star. Perhaps a few after work pints were involved?

Arthur would have seen great changes during his years with the agency. When he began in 1899 horse drawn streetcars had only recently been retired. He would have worked on the first electric cars in the city. The process of operating a streetcar was on a two man basis with the motorman driving the streetcar. The conductor was responsible for collecting fares, issuing transfers, keeping the coal stove running and helping ladies on and off the streetcar. In the early days it was a cold hard job. The first streetcars had no protection from the elements so passengers and employees both would freeze in the winter. A running board extended along the length of these cars. The conductor would have to manoeuvre along this board to collect fares from passengers. It was eventually abolished after multiple injuries sustained. The trolley pole connecting the car to the overhead wire was the conductor’s responsibility. If it broke while rounding a curve the conductor would be charged 75¢ to replace the pole. 

The streetcars themselves evolved from early models to the beloved Peter Witts of the 1920s to the streamlined modern PCC (Presidents’ Conference Committee) types introduced in the late 1930s (which included electric heaters!). Arthur endured through the end of the Toronto Street Railway and the creation of the brand new Toronto Transit Commission in 1921.  In 1899 the starting wage was 16 2/3¢ an hour for a 11-12 hour shift. By 1915 wages had risen to 27 1/2¢/hour and no employee was expected to work more than 10 hours/day. At the time of amalgamation in 1921 Arthur made 66¢ an hour with an additional 4¢/hour paid on Sunday. Two weeks annual vacation was awarded. The depression hit the TTC hard as Torontonians were not taking transit. The transit union workers took extra days off each month, accepted pay cuts and gradually the number of operators on streetcars was reduced from two to one, much to the operators’ dismay. 

Fonds 16, Series 836, Subseries 3, Item 268, City of Toronto Archives

In 1899, cash fares were 5¢, rising to 10¢ for overnight rides. Tickets were sold by the conductor at a cost of $1.00 for 25, good for any time between 5:30 am. In 1937 day fares were 10¢ with 4 tickets coming 25¢ and 16 tickets $1.

 

Arthur died in 1940 and was buried in St John’s Norway Cemetery, across the street from where he first resided upon his arrival in Canada. Here is the one picture we have of Arthur Davis Moorecroft, taken from an article in The Toronto Telegram discussing the war service of his four sons.

Toronto Star 16 July 1940                      After his retirement in 1937 he likely still rode the red rocket. To conclude, here’s a neat clip of streetcars running in the 1939-40 period. Times have changed but streetcars will always be a constant in downtown Toronto. Arthur’s legacy lives on!

The Kingswells in Kingston

 

My great-grandparents Charles and Frances Kingswell left England in 1885, arriving in Quebec City on July 3. From there they headed to Ontario where they settled in Kingston, at the time a city of approximately 16,000 inhabitants.

The 1887 City Directory described Kingston as "...being the soundest city financially, its merchants being considered the most prudent and safest men to deal with". Further, “The Limestone City, as it is sometimes called, is also the cleanest and healthiest city in Ontario, being built on solid rock”.

The city must have been welcoming to English emigrants with a newspaper named The British Whig. The nearby village of Portsmouth (home to the Kingston Penitentiary) would have reminded Charles of the Isle of Wight where he was born and raised. The Kingswells settled in the working class neighbourhood of Williamsville. 

Newspapers helped me get a fuller picture of the lives of the Kingswells. One of the first articles I found was in The Kingston Whig-Standard’s 26 December 1888 issue: 

This was actually Charles'older brother Edward who sailed from Liverpool in 1874, landing in Quebec City on 21 May with a destination of Quebec. 

I wasn’t able to locate Edward in Kingston until he surfaced in the 1881 census so he may have remained in Quebec until that time. Edward hadn’t married and he must have been terribly lonely in this city far from home. There was only two years difference in age between Edward and Charles and they were likely close. It made sense that Edward encouraged his brother to relocate his young family to Kingston. This answers the question of why Charles and Fanny emigrated to Canada though we may never know what prompted Edward to leave his home. 

The 1887 Kingston Directory listed both brothers but the following year Edward returned to England, no doubt homesick for his family. 

Seven years later the following sad report appeared on 11 July 1895 in The Kingston Whig-Standard. 

Edward had been living his parents and working as a gardener. The coroner's inquest found the incident was a pure accident and that death resulted from a severe concussion. Membership in the Ancient Order of Foresters guaranteed Edward a proper burial. The Kingston piece exaggerates a bit. According to a piece in The Isle of Wight County Press Edward fell 14 feet and about 200 brethern attended the funeral.

This was just the start of a streak of bad luck for the Kingswell family. The following report appeared in the 22 February 1896 Kingston Daily News: 

I was surprised to find out that a disease like diphtheria was still common almost at the turn of the 20th century. In the late 1880s a new 120 foot steel water tower had been constructed in Williamsville, new iron pipes had been laid and new pumping stations built in an effort to improve working class living conditions. Unfortunately these provisions weren’t enough to save the Kingswells as the highly communicative disease spread through their home. The first to fall to the disease was young George, the eldest Kingswell child who had made the trip from the Isle of Wight.

  

 

He was only 11 years old. William (9), Ernest (8), Lizzie (6) and Olive (2) survived the disease but young Charles aged 3 died on 25 February in Hotel Dieu after the article was published. To add to the stress Fanny was pregnant. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy on 8 March 1896 and named him George after his deceased brother. 

 

The family moved house yearly for the next few years no doubt trying to find a safe home for their growing family that they could afford on a working man’s salary, moving from Victoria Street, to Stanley Street, to Fifth Street finally settling at 783 Princess Street in 1898. 

This was the year the family made another dramatic appearance in the local papers captioned as “Trouble in Williamsville”

Henry Thomas Barnes was a local businessman who operated a blacksmith shop at 787 Princess Street and lived next door at 789 Princess Street according to the 1898 City Directory. This made him a close neighbour to the Kingswells. The first indication of the “Trouble” was reported in the October 28 issue of the Kingston Daily News. Mr. Barnes filed a complaint against young Willie Kingswell.  The following day Willie's mother marched down to the News office to deny the confrontation. Though she couldn’t prove or disprove the stone throwing incident she had witnesses to prove that Barnes pulled Willie from the streetcar and roughed him up so much that he had to be rescued by bystanders.  

The case came before the court on the following Monday, October 31. Witnesses claimed that Barnes dragged young Kingswell off the car striking and kicking him and dragging him through the mud. All agreed that the boy was “treated roughly”. Willie’s dad testified to seeing the boy’s bruises. Barnes admitted to seizing the boy but as the latter squirmed and kicked he had difficulty holding him. In the counter suit Willie denied throwing the stone. The Magistrate had no patience with the conflicting evidence given and dismissed both suits but not before chastising Barnes for his behaviour about which others had complained.

This incident was no doubt the talk of the neighbourhood for some time. Problems with neighbours is obviously nothing new! The Kingswells continued to move residences, sometimes on a yearly basis. From Princess Street they moved to Durham Street, Nelson Street, Stanley Street and Albert Street, all in Williamsville. They spent two years in Portsmouth before returning to Kingston in 1911 settling at 13 St. Lawrence Avenue. Hopefully their neighbours were more congenial than Mr. Barnes! 

 

Kingston Collegiate

 I found more mentions of the Kingswells after the Barnes incident but most were for happier reasons. There was some trouble. In 1901 William and his friend Harold Doyle were charged with stealing another young lad’s rooster. I couldn’t find a resolution for this matter, perhaps it was dismissed. In 1916 Alfred, who had “filled up on American Old Tom” was fined $15 for being drunk and interfering with the police. But no major problems.  All the Kingswell children did well in school, passing their exams and moving along to the Collegiate. They attended church picnics and outings, funerals and weddings.

My grandmother Gertie was mentioned a number of times in the papers. The first was a dog bite on 4 April 1912. Fortunately this incident had not impact on her lifelong love of dogs. Then an illness was reported on 1 November 1918. Wonder what she had? 

By the time my grandparents married in 1921 all the Kingswells had relocated from Kingston to either Toronto or Buffalo. My grandmother had fond memories of her childhood home though many of the locations she recalled were long gone by the time we visited when I was a child. I've plotted out the various landmarks on this map. 

THE 1938 CANADIAN CORPS REUNION

The morning of Saturday, July 30 1938 dawned hot and sunny in the city of Toronto. It was the start of the Civic Holiday long weekend and it looked like it would be a swell one. The day was an extra-special one in the Moorecroft household. Fred Moorecroft donned his pin, red beret and armband and was ready to go. He was one of over 100,000 veterans of the Great War who gathered to celebrate and reminisce at the Canadian Corps Reunion.

 Fred had had a terrible war experience. Embracing his Ulster Scot background, he enlisted in the 48th Highlanders in August of 1915. He sailed for Europe in early 1916 with the 92nd battalion and was attached to the 15th battalion in France. Fred returned home early in 1918 a broken man having lost a leg and several fingers in an attack

92nd battalion scouts, Fred is 4th from the left

In the 20 years following Fred managed to build a life for himself, marrying Adeline Nicholls in 1921 and finding employment as a clerk and bookkeeper. He and Addie lived with their son Fred Jr. at 56 Donlands Avenue in the east end of Toronto. Life seemed to be good, which may be why Fred decided to attend the 1938 reunion.

The first Canadian Corps Reunion was held in Toronto from August 4 to 6 1934 to commemorate the start of the Great War. The reunion, tied in with the 100th anniversary of the City of Toronto, was a huge success. About 100,000 veterans attended and spent $750,000 during the event. A bigger party was planned for ’38. The end of the war was perhaps a more fitting cause for celebration. However, there was another reason—storm clouds were brewing and democracy and freedom were being threatened. There was a good chance that Canadians would be called upon again and what better way to inspire patriotic feelings than to be reminded of the sacrifices made by the older generation 20 years earlier? 

The reunion was announced on Remembrance Day 1937 at the Corps’ annual dinner and as 1938 began invitations were sent out. A full program was planned with events taking place at Exhibition place, Riverdale Park and other locations.

 

The first vet to register in April 1938 was Toronto Mayor Ralph C. Day formerly of the 116th battalion. He was followed by many other politicians, as well as Victoria Cross recipient Air Marshall William “Billy” Bishop. Acceptances came from New Zealand, Australia, South Africa and West Africa. Special trains were booked to bring groups from Montreal, Buffalo and Chicago. Groups arranged to travel from Detroit, California and Newfoundland. 

A special group called themselves the “League of Forgotten Men”, men who had been reported dead or missing and believed dead.  

Times were still tough so assistance was offered to unemployed vets. Brantford council allowed unemployed vets to perform 3 days of special relief work to earn $13 towards their trip. A special train was booked to bring several hundred attendees from Hamilton, for no charge. Emergency billeting was provided in the Livestock building.

First up was a popular event brought back from the 1934 reunion—the French Village located in the CNE Coliseum. It opened to the public on July 25, with 5,000 visitors pouring in. From the evening of Friday, July 29 it was reserved for veterans. Visitors could stroll through streets past homes, barns, shops and estaminets (small cafés offering food and drink). Beer and wine flowed and visitors enjoyed sing-a-longs to favourites like “Mademoiselle from Armentières” and “Pack Up Your Troubles”. Dancing and revelry went on well into the night. It was a great success. The first night one beer ticket wicket ran out of tickets; another ran out of change. According to the Globe and Mail, “It was a grand party. Today motorists on their way to work in the city saw many of last night’s celebrants blissfully sleeping on the grass near the lakefront”.

 

Saturday, July 30 featured the Canadian Corps March Past following Prime Minister Mackenzie King’s opening addresses to the veterans—“Liberty and democracy cry out anew for preservation, not only in foreign countries, but in many parts of Canada”. The parade was led by the brass and pipe band of the 48th Highlanders. 

Each unit was represented by a group of four veterans with a colour bearer carrying the unit flag. Thousands lined the streets despite the heat. Some vets and spectators collapsed and were treated by St John Ambulance. The Globe’s 1 Aug headline: “Veterans March Past Takes Two Full Hours Beneath Broiling Sun” In all 70,000 vets, and 40 bands marched.  

Saturday night unit dinners were held. The Canadian Corps reunion dinner took place at the Royal York with 22 Victoria Cross recipients the guests of honour. A representative from every unit attended and the dinner address was broadcast by remote radio hookup to the other dinners held at the Royal York, King Edward Hotel, Victoria Hotel, CNE Grandstand, the horticultural building at CNE and many other locations.

The main event on Sunday, July 31st was the Drumhead Service at Riverdale Park which followed services at Prospect Cemetery and Varsity Stadium. Colonel McLaughlin of GM fame funded an actual size reproduction of the Vimy monument based on the original plans of designer Walter Alward. As most vets had not been able to travel to France to see the original, it was felt that the emotional pull of the reproduction would be great.

One of the big events on Monday, August 1st was the unveiling of unit plaques at Coronation Park. The park had been opened in 1937 to commemorate the coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. Trees were planted to represent the countries of the empire and each CEF unit. Granite plaques were now installed noting the name of the tree and the unit. Representatives from each unit simultaneously pulled ribbons to remove little Union Jacks that covered each plaque. Fundraising coast to coast covered the installation and any extra money was to go towards installing a bench or statue holding a continuously burning flame but that doesn’t appear to have ever happened. Some of the trees have been replaced over the years but it appears that the 15th battalion’s tree is the original. Most people jogging and biking through this lovely park probably know nothing of its past.

By the morning of Tuesday, August 2nd the reunion was officially over. Streets were cleared of paper, broken bottles and bonfire ashes. According to Globe, “All the traffic signs which happy veterans had placed in queer places had been returned to their proper posts when the cleaners had finished their job, and waste paper cans once more reposed on street corners”. The reunion had been a huge success. Reportedly over $1.5 million was spent on food and lodging over the weekend. Several downtown hotels had to close before 11 pm Saturday when they ran out of booze. There were some downsides to the event— hospitals were overwhelmed and police were run ragged. Over 160 injuries, 39 auto collisions and 3 hold ups were reported.

 

It’s difficult to know how many events Fred attended. On July 30th the Globe reported that upon request the Christie Street Hospital was willing to provide transport to all former patients who couldn’t otherwise get to the festivities. Fred may have accepted this offer or perhaps Addie drove him. Fred had been fitted with a prosthetic leg but he appeared to prefer his crutches. Either way it may have been difficult for him to attend some events during the weekend and he certainly would have found it difficult to march with his colleagues. Perhaps he at least attended the reunion dinner on Saturday night, though I haven’t been able to determine where the 15th held their dinner. Either way he kept his reunion gear so it seemed that the reunion meant something to him. 

Before the reunion it was reported that Alderman GS Layton from Montreal would be attending the reunion and was to bring a bid for the next reunion in 1942. Unfortunately circumstances had changed and the next reunion was not to be.