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husheduphistory · 2 years

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No Laughing Matter: The Clowns and the Turmoil that Changed Toronto

In the summer of 1855 the city of Toronto was a far cry from the bustling capital city that it is today. Much closer to resembling the Wild West, the city was filled to the brim with bars, liquor shops, and brothels catering to the rotating population of approximately 40,000 people. Mary Ann Armstrong ran one of Toronto’s many “clubs” on the corner of King and Jarvis Streets and the combination bar and brothel was always busy, especially when new faces were passing through town. The sights, sounds, and stories that originated there are incalculable, but on one July night Armstrong’s establishment was the setup for an incident that sounds like a joke but was unfortunately very real with a horrible punchline. “A clown and a fireman walk into a bar…”

On the morning of July 12th 1855 a large group of travelers made their way into Toronto, but these visitors were a little more unusual than the normal passers-by, this was the S.B. Howes' Star Troupe Menagerie & Circus. S.B. Howe was one of the first circus companies to bring their act on tour traveling to one city and taking up residency for a few days before packing up their tents and disappearing from the scene. The circus was only supposed to be in town for two days and after their first performance a group of clowns decided to take in the town, eventually ending up at Mary Ann Armstrong’s building.

Illustration of King Street in Toronto circa 1855. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

The image might sound funny, a group of clowns walking into a rowdy, tough, and intimidating brothel and bar, but these clowns were not to be messed with. Their jobs went far beyond entertaining and included the physical labor of building, breaking down, packing up, and moving their entire community to each city on the tour. They were strong, bold, and did not back down from a fight, which was a recipe for disaster considering the other people visiting Armstrong’s that night.

Advertisement for the circus. Image via torontodreamsproject.blogspot.com/com/.

At this point in time fire departments were not formally established and individual companies formed privately and functioned for profit, racing to fires and charging a price before putting them out. It was not uncommon for rival fire companies to clash in the streets, sometimes requiring local law enforcement to intervene. Only two weeks before the circus came to town one local company, the Hook and Ladder Firefighting Company, was involved in a violent street brawl with another fire company that became known as the Fireman’s Riot. They were an aggressive group, and tonight they were visiting Armstrong’s establishment at the same time as the clowns.

There has never been a singular cause identified for what happened next. One account says that the clowns cut the line to get into the building. Another says one of the firemen named Fraser knocked a hat off the head of a clown named Meyers and refused to pick it up when asked. Others simply say it was a case of someone getting loud with someone else who did not take kindly to their tone. The result was an all-out brawl and by the time the police arrived the firemen were all beaten to a bloody pulp with two of them requiring medical attention at a hospital. The band of clowns simply went back out into the night to continue partying.

The situation was bad enough as is, but the political climate of the area made the conflict cut deeper. Much of Toronto’s population was made up of Irish Catholics but the city government was deeply Irish Protestant and Tory elite, supported by the Orange Order, who were also firmly in the corner of the bloodied Hook and Ladder Firefighting Company. As far as the fire department was concerned the clowns had just declared war.

When the S.B. Howes' Star Troupe Menagerie & Circus came into town they pitched their tents along the waterfront at the site of Fair Green, near the St. Lawrence Market. On the day after the brothel brawl, Friday the 13th, the merchants in the market were few and far between, there was word that something bad was brewing. Slowly they began to arrive to the circus grounds, a large mob of Orangemen of the Orange Order, and before long the rocks began to fly. The circus performers were able to hold back the assault for a short amount of time but when the fire department arrived it was not to help the entertainers, it was to destroy them. The members of the Hook and Ladder Firefighting Company arrived carrying pikes, pipes, and axes. They tore apart the circus tents, beat anyone in their paths, set fires, and knocked over wagons with a bloodthirsty ferocity. Police Chief Samuel Sherwood, a former tavern owner with no formal training, arrived and brought in a handful of constables throughout the day but never put a focused effort into quelling the violence. How could he? He was a part of the Orange Order himself and when later questioned about the level of power he had in his position as Chief his answer was “A very small one indeed…I give orders and instructions to the force, but cannot get them obeyed. As soon as I am out of sight, the men do as they please.” When the Mayor arrived at the scene he took matters into his own hands, wrestling an ax from a fireman who was about to murder one of the clowns and calling in a militia to finally put a stop to the violence. The clowns and other performers took what was left of their belongings and fled the city as quickly as possible.

Painting of Toronto showing the site of Fair Green. Image via http://torontodreamsproject.blogspot.com/

The aftermath of the riot was unfortunately familiar. When the Fireman’s Riot happened only weeks beforehand the memories of the police department and the firemen involved were suddenly and inexplicably fuzzy and they could not recall a single member of the Orange Order that was on the scene. One constable said it was too dark out to see any faces and another even said that the entire ordeal was carefully planned so that only people unfamiliar to the police would be involved. The exact same scenario played out again after the attack on the circus clowns and suddenly no one who advanced on the tents could recall anything that happened. Out of the entire mob only seventeen people were ever arrested and when they went to court every single person who attacked the circus that day was acquitted.

Article about the investigation of the Toronto Circus Riot. Image via torontoist.com.

The official word on what happened may have been hazy but the public saw the corruption very clearly and while they could not create change overnight, the Toronto Clown Riot proved to be a fatal blow to the too-long accepted state of things. After the riot it became much more common to question the conveniently selective memories of the police force that was given absolute power with no form of training. The formerly iron-clad coverups for the actions of the fire departments corroded and began to lose strength. The voices against the Orange Order got louder and louder.

One of the biggest indicators that the public had had enough came with the next election when for the first time in twenty years a mayor was elected that was backed by the Irish Catholics despite the hardest efforts of the Orange Order to prevent it. Reform and organization was needed and in 1858 the first provincially approved board put a restructuring of the new city government and police force into motion. In February of 1859 the entire police force was fired (roughly half that were not part of the Toronto Clown Riot were reinstated), a new chief was brought on board, and finally Toronto had a police force that was out of private hands, nonpolitical, and under close watch by the newly established city government.

The fates of many of the S.B. Howes' Star Troupe Menagerie & Circus clowns are greatly unknown and the clown named Meyers has faded into time. Little could he or any of the clowns imagined on that July night that getting into a fist fight with a gang of firemen in a brothel would lay the foundation for the establishment of Toronto’s first formal police department.

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Sources:

“Hidden History: The Toronto Circus Riot” by Lenny Flank. August 20th 2019

https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2019/8/20/1870769/-Hidden-History-The-Toronto-Circus-Riot

“The Toronto Circus Riot of 1855 — the day the clowns picked the wrong Toronto brothel” by Adam Bunch. October 2nd 2012.

http://spacing.ca/toronto/2012/10/02/the-toronto-circus-riot-of-1855-the-day-the-clowns-picked-the-wrong-toronto-brothel/

“How a Fight With Clowns Led to the Birth of Modern Policing in Toronto “ by Patrick Metzger. September 12th 2013.

https://torontoist.com/2013/09/how-a-fight-with-clowns-led-to-the-birth-of-modern-policing-in-toronto/

“Infamous Clown Brawl in Brothel Gets Entire Toronto Police Force Fired “ by Sean Kernan. November 29th 2021.

https://medium.com/lessons-from-history/infamous-clown-fight-in-brothel-gets-entire-toronto-police-force-fired-ceca014addc6

“Clowns fighting firemen in Canada in 1855.” opposite-lock.com/topic/22965/clowns-fighting-firemen-in-canada-in-1855

“The Toronto Circus Riot of 1855 “ http://torontodreamsproject.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-circus-riot.html

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ministryofacoustics · 21 days

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Hyderabad Noise Stories

#weekends #ajeeddastaan #strangestories Outliving #2024 #hysterical #neurosis #traffic #cramps #lunaticautos #rash buses #roadrage #community #construction #culture #festivals #roadclosures #metrorail #loudnoises #waterlogging #electioneering #rains #storms #loudspeakers #DJ #chanting #politics #pandemics #endemics #wars #calamities #laws of #earth, laws of #death and laws of #chaos still rules…

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#djnoise #djsound #environment #environmentnoise #generationrestoration #health #loudspeakers #noise #noise-pollution #noisepollution #outdoornoise #pollution #worldenvironmentday

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reireiasl · 2 years

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Us against the world (Prologue)

Have you ever truly experienced friendship? Sure you may not have friends as much as Twilight Sparkle but atleast there’s someone true out there...right?

first chapter

4 people started out as strangers, then acquaintances. Never did they expect to break free from their old friend groups just so they can create and start anew. Along the way, they too became magnets for people who were....like them yet so....different.

#story prompt #strangestories #slice of life #school #friends #besties #best friend #angst #angst with comfort #angst with happy ending

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wanderloststories · 4 years

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Jump, Sydney, Australia. He stood on the ledge staring at the wild ocean beneath his feet. It was almost as if he was at war with an invisible force. His thoughts were violent and his heart was pounding. In that turmoil, all of a sudden, he found a moment of peace. His face changed, he calmed down. He took a deep breath and jumped. And when someone jumps from a height like that into water like that, they don't die, they disappear. A few minutes ago, right before he had jumped, he had been walking on the bridge, alone, lost and with a note in his hand. A note that he'd stuck on the bridge right before he had jumped, a note that said, "life may seem random, but it's all just a vicious loop. The worst part is you do not know if your breaking the loop or initiating it." An hour before he'd been walking on the bridge he was running far away from something. His breath was fast and his eyes were wild with fear. A commoner on the street would have described his as a man overcome with madness. Half a day ago, before he decided to run from his reality, this man was sitting at a bar with a beautiful woman, sharing a drink, hoping to get lucky. She said she would let him on a secret that only a few knew. He wanted to hear it. She leaned into his ears and whispered, "no matter what you do, you're in the loop. Tonight, you will jump off a bridge." He had laughed in her face the first time she had said it but he'd ran from her the last time she said it. He hadn't stayed to hear her raspy laughter. 24 hours ago, before his rendezvous with the woman, when the sun rose and the day had just begun, he'd woken up from a really strange dream, a dream where he had jumped off a bridge into a dark abyss and he woke up feeling like he'd been choking. "Wow, was that all just a dream!" #wander_lost_stories #write #read #writersnetwork #readersnetwork #stories #shortstories #tinytales #tales #travelstories #sydney #australia #aroundtheworld #wanderloststories #bridges #darlingharboursydney #loop #dreams #jumps #strangestories (at Darling Harbour, Sydney) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF04nxMMMsP/?igshid=4kgapbzo0ve8

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jazzrj · 6 years

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I always remember the weirdest stories and facts. #poem #poetry #magneticpoemoftheday #magneticpoetry #magneticpoem #poetrymagnets #writing #mine #strangestories https://www.instagram.com/therealjazzrj/p/Bv_2Fo4n3f8/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ut64ubk161y1

#poem #poetry #magneticpoemoftheday #magneticpoetry #magneticpoem #poetrymagnets #writing #mine #strangestories

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danielreddbooks · 2 years

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I started a substack for my short stories since I don’t have an easy way to publish them professionally. Most substacks cost money to subscribe to but my substack is free. I will attempt to post a short story or an installment of a novella weekly. Some of the future posts will include selections of short stories that were featured in Scholastics Art and Writing Competition in 2021, and other popular short stories of mine. Check it out at: https://danielredd.substack.com/

#horror #shortstories #strangestories #strange #novelist #novellas #free #substack #freetoread #free to read

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biffmitchell · 3 years

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Episode 119: The Existential Adventures of Crazy Man and the Dog, Sidestepper

Wherein Crazy Man and the dog, Sidestepper, tumble down.

(WARNING: This episode contains grasshoppers.)

Read for free every Wednesday.

https://existentialadventures885013431.files.wordpress.com/2022/02/119.pdf

#ContemporarySpeculativeFiction #SerializedStory #CollegeReading #CrazyHumor #StrangeStories #KurtVonnegut #MikeSacks #DavidWong

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immortalscares · 1 year

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I hate nightmares. 😤 #DontWantThem #DontNeedThem

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shitshowpulps · 7 years

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This cover fits the name of the publication to a T. #StrangeStories

#strangestories

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husheduphistory · 3 years

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With a Casket and a Curse: George Whitefield and the Town of Bath

The town of Bath, North Carolina is a small, quaint riverside spot steeped in history stretching back before the founding of the United States. In the 1690s this little slice of present day Beaufort County was a place of sanctuary, first being occupied by French Huguenot refugees fleeing Virginia and by 1708 its entire population consisted of fifty people and approximately twelve houses. It is a very humble origin story for a place that over time developed a reputation for its sheer lawlessness.

By the eighteenth-century Bath was a bustling port town catering to hundreds of ships traveling all around the Atlantic and giving them a place to rest, restock, and recharge. Not all of the goings-on were legal, Bath was conveniently located near the many inlets and coves that carve the North Carolina coast and it became a hotbed of activity for pirates who highly appreciated the air of secrecy that enveloped the town. Edward Teach, better known as the infamous Blackbeard, even called Bath home living in the small town after receiving a pardon from the governor. Bath had it all, free-flowing liquor, all-night parties, dancing, and the privacy to do as one pleased. But there was one person who did not want the good time Bath offered and they made it their mission to stomp it out for good.

Map showing the location of Bath, North Carolina. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

In the years before the American Revolution a wave of religious fervor began to sweep through the colonies and one of the superstars of the movement was fanatical evangelist George Whitefield. Ravenous with his message of salvation, Whitefield was not any normal preacher. His arms flailed and his words boomed over the heads of his followers like a dramatic monologue, earning him the reputation of having a voice that could be heard for miles. The drama of his sermons extended beyond his words. Whitefield, cross-eyed and fiery, allegedly traveled from town to town with a casket that he is rumored to have used as a bed, saying it represented that he was ready to accept death and his confidence in his salvation. He was well known in Georgia, New York, and Philadelphia where he was heard by Benjamin Franklin but Whitefield had North Carolina on his mind. He knew it was a godless state that allowed both dancing and drink. He made it his mission to save them.

Portrait of George Whitefield by Joseph Badger circa 1745. Image via wikipedia.com.

Whitefield arrived in the region of Bath in late December 1739 and the reception was immediately as chilly as the weather. The preacher was used to thousands of faces watching him deliver his sermons full of doom, fire, brimstone, and salvation but here he was lucky to find a hundred heads before him. The inhabitants of Bath did not appreciate the venom being spewed from this man condemning everything they took part in. Dancing, drinking, parties, and even their cursing was subject to criticism by the preacher and his message was not welcome. He left Bath and traveled to the surrounding regions, still finding his brand of aggressive religious vitriol unaccepted by the locals. Writing in his journal he lamented that almost ever town had a dancing teacher but not a minister, “In North Carolina there is scarce so much as the Form of Religion. Two Churches were begun for some Time, but neither finish’d. There are several Dancing-masters but scarce one regularly settled Minister.” He left the southern part of the country and headed north, but the thought of the sins of Bath and North Carolina never left him.

Whitefield visited Bath multiple times but in the 1760s he made his last appearance. Aggravated by the minister’s ranting the people of Bath informed him that if he stayed he was going to have a permanent use for the coffin he traveled with. The fanatical minister had had enough. Allegedly Whitefield responded by taking off his shoes, waving them in the air, and shaking the dust off his feet. Then, raising his arms and voice he boomed “I say to the village of Bath, village you shall remain, now and forever, forgotten by men until such time as it pleases God to turn the light of His countenance again upon you.” Then came the words that became infamous, “If a place won't listen to The Word you shake the dust of the town off your feet, and the town shall be cursed. I have put a curse on this town for a hundred years." With this final dramatic declaration he left the town of Bath for the final time.

Some people believe that with enough passion behind them, words can do anything. After cursing the town and leaving Bath with his casket for the final time the inhabitants probably raised a glass in relief and went along with their partying without a second thought. Soon though, people may have started to question the power of Whitefield’s words.

Work entitled Whitfield preaching in Moorfields AD 1743 by Eyre Crowe. Image via victorianweb.org.

The little town of Bath had survived a lot in its short history. Yellow fever, drought, and attacks from Native Americans all came and went leaving Bath still standing on legs strong enough to turn it into the hub of controlled chaos that it became. But then came the town of Washington. Situated on the northern bank of the Pamlico River and only fifteen miles from Bath, seemingly overnight the hustle and bustle of the party town began shifting. Soon Washington became the most prominent local port and the commerce left Bath taking much of its inhabitants and prosperity with it. It is said that Whitefield used Bath as an example, maybe even a warning, saying that he himself finally brought down the sinful town.

Today Bath remains a quiet little hamlet filled with historic sites including North Carolina’s first library, the state’s oldest existing church, and historic markers discussing colonial houses and the residence of Blackbeard. Less discussed is how the picturesque little town was once rife with pirates and how a rabid minister claimed to end the party with a curse.

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