Mr. Bloor was an Englishman, respected by every one. That his name should have become permanently attached to the Northern Boulevard of the City of Toronto, a favourite thoroughfare, several miles in extent, is a curious fact which may be compared with the case of Pimlico, the famous west-end quarter of London. Pimlico has its name, it is said, from Mr. Benjamin Pimlico, for many years the popular landlord of a hotel in the neighbourhood. Bloor Street was for a time known as St. Paul's road: also as the Sydenham road.
While crossing the First Concession Line, now in our northward journey, the moment comes back to us when on glancing along the vista to the eastward, formed by the road in that direction, we first noticed a church-spire on the right-hand or southern side. We had passed that way a day or two before, and we were sure no such object was to be seen there then; and yet, unmistakeably now, there rose up before the eye a rather graceful tower and spire, of considerable altitude, complete from base to apex, and coloured white.
The fact was: Mr. J. G. Howard, a well-known local architect, had ingeniously constructed a tower of wood in a horizontal, or nearly horizontal, position in the ground close by, somewhat as a shipbuilder puts together "the mast of some vast ammiral," and then, after attending to the external finish of, at least, the higher portion of it, even to a coating of lime wash, had, in the space of a few hours, by means of convenient machinery raised it on end, and secured it, permanently, in a vertical position.
We gather some further particulars of the achievement from a contemporary account. The Yorkville spire was raised on the 4th of August, 1841. It was 85 feet high, composed of four entire trees or pieces of timber, each of that length, bound together pyramidically, tapering from ten feet base to one foot at top, and made to receive a turned ball and weather-cock. The base was sunk in the ground until the apex was raised ten feet from the ground; and about thirty feet of the upper part of the spire was completed, coloured and painted before the raising. The operation of raising commenced about two o'clock p.m., and about eight in the evening, the spire and vane were seen erect, and appeared to those unacquainted with what was going on, to have risen amongst the trees, as if by magic. The work was performed by Mr. John Richey; the framing by Mr. Wetherell, and the raising was superintended by Mr. Joseph Hill.
The plan adopted was this: three gin-poles, as they are called, were erected in the form of a triangle; each of them was well braced, and tackles were rove at their tops: the tackles were hooked to strong straps about fifty feet up the spire, with nine men to each tackle, and four men to steady the end with following poles. It was raised in about four hours from the commencement of the straining of the tackles, and had a very beautiful appearance while rising. The whole operation, we have been told, was conducted as nearly as possible in silence, the architect himself regulating by signs the action of the groups at the gin-poles, being himself governed by the plumb-line suspended in a high frame before him.
"No workman steel, no ponderous axes rung; Like some tall palm, the noiseless fabric sprung."
Perhaps Fontana's exploit of setting on end the obelisk in front of St. Peter's, in Rome, suggested the possibility of causing a tower and spire complete to be suddenly seen rising above the roof of the Yorkville St. Paul's. On an humble scale we have Fontana's arrangements reproduced. While in the men at the gin-poles worked in obedience to signs, we have the old Egyptians over again—a very small detachment of them indeed—as seen in the old sculptures on the banks of the Nile.
The original St. Paul's before it acquired in this singular manner the dignified appurtenance of a steeple, was a long, low, barn-like, wooden building. Mr. Howard otherwise improved it, enlarging it by the addition of an aisle on the west side. When some twenty years later, viz., in 1861, the new stone church was erected, the old wooden structure was removed bodily to the west side of Yonge Street, together with the tower, curtailed, however, of its spire.
We have been informed that the four fine stems, each eighty-five feet long, which formed the interior frame of the tower and spire of 1841, were a present from Mr. Allan, of Moss Park; and that the Rev. Charles Matthews, occasionally officiating in St. Paul's, gave one hundred pounds in cash towards the expense of the ornamental addition now made to the edifice.
The history of another of Mr. Howard's erections on Yonge Street, which we are perambulating, illustrates the rapid advance and expansion of architectural ideas amongst us. In the case now referred to it was no shell of timber and deal-boards that was taken down, but a very handsome solid edifice of cut-stone, which might have endured for centuries. The Bank of British North America, built by Mr. Howard, at the corner of Yonge Street and Wellington Street in 1843, was deliberately taken down, block by block, in 1871, and made to give place to a structure which should be on a par in magnificence and altitude with the buildings put up in Toronto by the other Banks. Mr. Howard's building, at the time of its erection, was justly regarded as a credit to the town. Its design was preferred by the directors in London to those sent in by several architects there. Over the principal entrance were the Royal Arms, exceedingly well carved in stone on a grand scale, and wholly disengaged from the wall; and conspicuous over the parapet above was the great scallop-shell, emblem of the gold-digger's occupation, introduced by Sir John Soane, in the architecture of the Bank of England. (The Royal Arms of the old building have been deemed worthy of a place over the entrance to the new Bank.)