22 Years of New Edinburgh

New Edinburgh Incorporation_Page_1
An Act to incorporate the Village of New Edinburgh, in the County of Carleton. It received Royal Assent on August 15, 1866.

The Village of New Edinburgh was incorporated by an act of the United Province of Canada (Canada West) under a year prior to Confederation. What is perhaps interesting is that, at the time, it was customary to allow a settlement incorporate once it had reached a population of around a thousand. For its own part, New Edinburgh was said to have reached no more than 300.[1] In his Ph.D. thesis, Gregory Stott suggested that:

     There is one clue to the motives for incorporation. At the same time as the bill for incorporation appeared, the Provincial legislature was considering an Act to incorporate the “Ottawa City Passenger Railway Company.” This important transportation act and the act incorporating New Edinburgh both received Royal Assent on August 15, 1866. The incorporation of the railway company stipulated that the tracks would begin in New Edinburgh and run into Ottawa along various streets. Significantly, the Act provided “Ottawa and the adjoining municipalities … are respectively authorized to make and to enter into any agreements or covenants with the said company…” as they related to the maintenance of roads, sewers, waterlines, and of course rail lines that would be created or affected by the creation of the new service. Ir seems likely, therefore, that the call for municipal status in New Edinburgh has much to do with the development of a street railway. Both the stables and headquarters for the transportation network were to be in New Edinburgh. [2]

Stott continues suggesting that the bulk of ratepayers in the predominantly rural Gloucester Township would have little interest in – or use for – a street railway. This, of course, is quite similar to the state of affairs today, as the support for large public transportation projects is generally more fairweather among the distant suburban and rural areas than it is for those inside the city.

In general, the relationship between Ottawa and New Edinburgh was amiable and there was a high level of integration, with New Edinburgh being hooked up to Ottawa’s water system and a user of their fire protection. It would be in the last four years that things came to sour.

The year 1882 marked a decided turning point in the relations between the city and the village, and consequently the actions pursued by Ottawa contributed to the poisoning what had been a relatively amicable relationship. In December, an Ottawa City Council committee reported that the city should embark on a massive expansion programme, annexing New Edinburgh and significant portions of both Gloucester and Nepean Townships. Heightened expenditures left Ottawa with an impressive infrastructure. However, the increase in local rates caused many people to flee to the outskirts, settling in the neighbouring townships and New Edinburgh. Coupled with this exodus of ratepayers, the economic slowdown of the 1870s left the city with liabilities that outweighed assets. For Ottawa City Council the best solution was to bring suburbanites back forcibly into the urban fold in order to recover this lost taxation. [3]

Unsurprisingly, the New Edinburgh council found this to be a hostile move [4] and the community mobilized against it. The mobilization was temporarily successful, and the first annexation bill, introduced in 1883, ultimately died in committee. [5] Ottawa’s intentions were now public and – much like Rockcliffe Park later on – the village both adopted and was given a style and identity of wealth and luxury. The “Vice-Regal Suburb.” [6] While the village was able to win a three-year reprieve, the trend toward municipal annexation across the province (and indeed across North America) was both unmistakable and unstoppable. New Edinburgh was annexed by the City of Ottawa in 1886/7.

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[1] Stott, Gregory (2004). “Suburban Dilemmas: The Development and Amalgamation of Ontario Suburban Municipalities 1853 to 1897.” Ph.D. Diss. McMaster University, p. 63.
[2] Ibid, pp. 64-65.
[3] Ibid, p. 183.
[4] Annexations and amalgamations, of course, have remained similarly controversial. Individuals are understandably upset when their attempts at tax arbitrage are thwarted and those recipient locations are similarly upset. Death and taxes!
[5] Stott (2004), p. 185.
[6] Ibid.

187 Billings Ave

Ottawahh has just posted a short story about the oldest house in Junction Gore (and perhaps the city), along with a gallery of the older housing in the Alta-Vista area. Aside from the very interesting built history – including the number of extensions and resulting almost maze-like structure – Alta-Vista has come to develop more of a reputation as Ottawa’s first postwar, modern-style suburb. Of course, it was also the stomping grounds of the Billings family, but that’s less the popular (though not unknown) image in my experience.

From the article:

The oldest extant house in Junction Gore (and perhaps the whole city) is 187 Billings Avenue in Alta Vista. It’s been there in some shape or form since around 1823 although it will probably be demolished later this year.

I certainly hope that it may receive a last-minute stay of execution through heritage designation. It’s valuable on the basis of age, its relation to the Billings family, the extensions are a testament to our past relationship to our homes (insofar that they often grew with us), and an example of how that growth was not often regulated in the serious ways that it is now.

Take a look at the complete piece here.

The Road to Good Intermunicipal Relations

Source: Ottawa Citizen, May 1, 1953
Source: Ottawa Citizen, May 1, 1953

The relationship between the Village of Rockcliffe Park and the City of Ottawa has often been a strained one. I recently explored the brou-ha-ha surrounding the renaming of Butternut Terrace to Acacia Avenue and the reaction of Charlotte Whitton to it. Though her outrage was largely symbolic, perhaps a symptom of an individual whose response knob to anything she disliked was always set to 11, the political and administrative rivalry between the two municipal bodies was quite real.

It would not be unfair to point out that the (now former) boundary between Ottawa and Rockcliffe is not a natural one. To be certain, while the legacy of wildly different zoning regulations has rendered the difference between the two readily apparent, there exists no real natural boundary such as a river, valley, or unnatural one, like the Green Belt. The boundary existed running down the centre of a number of streets.

Within the village, Rockcliffe was often characterized as something of a reluctant bride when threatened with amalgamation with the much larger City of Ottawa. [1] A conception that was not entirely without merit – given the dramatic size difference. Of course, the picture painted by those boosting for Ottawa painted the village as a snooty, wealthy enclave on the same level of Westmount or Rosedale. This conception was also not without merit – given the relative financial health of the Villlage, value of real estate therein, and the powerful, wealthy, and influential individuals who called it home.

Following Ottawa’s annexation of significant portions of Nepean and Gloucester Townships (notably including Manor Park and Westboro), it appears that the level of anxiety and conflict increased. Once again, it would be the roads – and the differing visions and needs on either side of the boundary – that would be the location of the kerfuffle.

On May 1, 1953, the Citizen reported on Rockcliffe’s annual ratepayers’ meeting, at which then Clerk of the Privy Council, J.W. Pickersgill recommended that the “village should accept the city’s ‘most reasonable offer’ to rebuild Hemlock Road.” [2] Ottawa’s vision for it would be to lay a modern road with a concrete base topped with asphalt, the costs to be shared 50-50 with the Village. This would also match the similar improvements that were made to Hemlock between Birch and St. Laurent the previous year. [3] For their own part, Rockcliffe Council rejected what they saw as an extravagant project because it was expensive and, after all, Ottawa required such luxurious roadways for its own Ottawa Transportation Commission buses. Since Rockcliffe neither had nor wanted public transportation, a simpler and cheaper roadway is all that was required.

Future Mandarin or not, Pickersgill's argument fell on deaf ears.
Clerk of the Privy Council or not, Pickersgill’s argument initially fell on deaf ears.

Pickersgill pointed out that Rockcliffe’s reluctance to cooperate not only opened them up to retaliation by Ottawa (“Rockcliffe could be made to contribute to the proposed new Sussex Street bridges which were used regularly by Rockcliffe residents”), but that the Province would also cover half of their share. Village council was nevertheless unimpressed by the argument and suggested that since the village paid the full cost of Princess and Lisgar Roads (neither of which fell in the village), that it should not be their responsibility.

Nevertheless, it appears that the two municipalities were able to set aside their differences of opinion over the nature of the work to be done on Hemlock. [4] At least, with some help from the Carleton County Council.

     The Board reports that after considerable negotiation with the Village of Rockcliffe Park it has received a letter from the Clerk advising that the Council of Rockcliffe has agreed to bear 50% of the cost of the heavy type pavements on boundary roads known as Birch Ave. and Hemlock Road and that a bylaw has been passed by the Village for submission to the Minister of Highways and the Ontario Municipal Board for approval. In addition Rockcliffe is making application to the Municipal Board for approval of this expenditure under Section 661 of the Ontario Municipal Board Act. Whether the amount sought will be affected by the reduction in the Provincial Road Subsidy grant remains to be seen as the City of Ottawa is also affected by the reduction of the subsidy grant in its road work, the Board has invited Rockcliffe to join with it in approaching the Ontario Government with respect to the grant.

The Village of Rockcliffe Park was greatly assisted in arriving at its decision to co-operate with the City through the action of the County of Carleton Council in granting the Village a rebate of 75% of its payment to the County for road purposes.

Upon the satisfactory conclusion of the aforementioned procedures, the Board of Control will take steps to secure tenders for these pavement works.

Noted

(sgd.) CHARLOTTE WHITTON, Chairman,
D. McCANN,
R. DONALDSON,
P. TARDIFF,
J. POWERS. [5]

With an agreement in hand, the City moved quickly and accepted O’Leary’s Ltd.’s tender, which came in at $58,248. [6]

Interestingly enough, the merger of cities has not put an end to such arguments. When looking at the comments section of any article that concerns the construction of new infrastructure, the claim that “it does not benefit my neighbourhood so I shouldn’t pay [as much]” invariably comes up. In some ways the machinations of intermunicipal relations have just been replaced with inter-neighbourhood relations that are acted on at the amalgamated city councils.

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[1] The “nightmare” did eventually come true in 2001 following decades of whispers, proposals, studies, and threats from Queen’s Park. For some discussion from the Rockcliffe point of view (noting the “reluctant bride” theme), see Edmond, Martha (2005). Rockcliffe Park: A History of the Village. Ottawa: The Friends of the Village of Rockcliffe Park, Chapter 9, pp. 139-43.
[2] “Boundary Roads Dispute Is Aired At Rockcliffe Ratepayers’ Meeting.” Ottawa Citizen. May 1, 1953. [1]
[3] In this case, the cost total cost of $88,000 was split between the city ($52,800) and the local property owners ($35,200). The contract was awarded to O’Leary’s Limited at their submitted tender price of $71,250. See Minutes of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1952, June 16, 1952. [1]
[4] The City of Ottawa did seem to increase its efforts to compensate the Village of Rockcliffe for more of the costs associated with the boundary roads. see Minutes, November 17, 1952 [1], January 19, 1953 [1], and December 21, 1953. [1]
[5] Minutes of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1953 (Volume 2). July 6, 1953, p. 939. [1]
[6] Minutes of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1953 (Volume 2). September 8, 1953, p. 1158. [1]

Sharpshooters’ Ambulatory Memorial

Memories in bronze are also ambulatory.
Memories in bronze are also ambulatory.

In any number of ways, the 1885 Northwest (or Riel) Rebellion occupies something of an uneasy (when it’s not forgotten) space in Canadian history. Nevertheless, the Rebellion was one of the earliest opportunities that the young Dominion had to demonstrate some of its firepower and a number of cities erected memorials and statues dedicated to the event. In his classic standard Ottawa Old & New, Lucien Brault described the contribution as such:

When news of the Riel Rebellion reached Ottawa, military authorities ordered the formation of a volunteer militia corps in Canada. Ottawa’s quota was 53 sharpshooters, to be raised from the Governor General’s Foot Guards and the 43rd Regiment. The answer was so enthusiastic that names of volunteers had to be drawn. These soldiers served at the battle of Cut Knife Hill where the Indian Chief Poundmaker was defeated by Colonel Otter. During the action, two of the Ottawa Sharpshooters were killed. A monument on Elgin St., formerly at the entrance of Major Hill Park, commemorates their fait d’armes. [1]

The Ottawa Sharpshooters returning from the North West Rebellion, July 1885. Source: LAC, Topley Series E, MIKAN No. 3406961.
The Ottawa Sharpshooters returning from the North West Rebellion, July 1885. Photo taken at Smith’s Falls, ON. Source: LAC, Topley Series E, MIKAN No. 3406961.
Unveiling of the Sharpshooters' Memorial. November 1, 1888. Source: LAC, Topley Series E, MIKAN No. 3362496
Unveiling of the Sharpshooters’ Memorial. November 1, 1888. Source: LAC, Topley Series E, MIKAN No. 3362496

The Ottawa Company of Sharpshooters returned from the west in July 1885 and a fund was quickly begun in order to erect a monument to their achievement. By 1888, sufficient funds had been collected and that November, the new memorial was revealed at the entrance to Major’s Hill Park, where Chateau Laurier currently sits. Of course, the growing city did not have the luxury of keeping such a monument in what would become a central location and it was relocated in October of 1911 to make room for the hotel’s construction [2].

When raising funds for the statue, the band did not play on without pay. Perhaps they weren't quite as interested in the Rebellion as others.
When raising funds for the statue, the band did not play on without pay. Perhaps they weren’t quite as interested in the Rebellion as others. Source: Montreal Herald, October 8, 1888
The unveiling of the memorial was well-attended.
The unveiling of the memorial was well-attended. Source: LAC Topley Series F, MIKAN No. 3394679

The memorial was next placed on the grounds of Ottawa’s City Hall (constructed in 1877), just down Elgin, past the Russell House Hotel. That did not mark the end of the journey for the memorial, however. In 1931, City Hall burned down. [3] Although city hall was gone, the Sharpshooters’ memorial, along with the more recent Boer War statue, remained on site until the construction of the National Arts Centre began in 1965.

Sharpshooters' and Boer War memorials outside Ottawa City Hall.
Sharpshooters’ and Boer War memorials outside Ottawa City Hall. Source: LAC, Department of the Interior Photographic Records, Series OT (Ottawa), MIKAN Nos. 3359048 and 3359047.
jar
Crews clearing the site located a medal. Source: Vancouver Sun, February 4, 1965.

Once again, the memorial had to move. Site preparations for the construction of the new Canadian Centre for the Performing Arts (now the National Arts Centre) began in 1964/65. When crews were removing the statues (to Confederation Park), a jar containing a commemorative medal and some paper was found in the base. [4] Both memorials remained at peace until 2006, when the Sharpshooters’ Memorial was moved across Laurier to rest outside of the Cartier Square Drill Hall. The Boer War memorial, however, remains in its more sylvan home at Confederation Park.

[1] Brault, Lucien (1946). Ottawa Old & New. Ottawa: Ottawa Historical Information Institute, pp. 164-5.
[2] Brault, Lucien. “The Sharp-shooters of 1885.” Ottawa Citizen, May 16, 1946. [1, 2, 3]
[3] Taylor, John H. (1986). Ottawa: An Illustrated History. Toronto: Lorimer, p. 99.
[4] “Jar Found Under Statue.” Vancouver Sun, February 4, 1965, p. 26. [1]

Butternut Terrace Becomes Acacia Avenue, 1949

Acacia Avenue (nee Butternut Terrace)
Acacia Avenue (nee Butternut Terrace)

Urban and municipal affairs are not generally at the forefront of disciplines such as Political Science, Public Administration, History, or Geography. Intermunicipal relations are even less so. Indeed, in her chapter entitled “Neglected Aspects of Intergovernmental Relations and Federalism,” Beverly Cigler identifies Intermunicipal relations as one aspect that requires much more significant study. [1] Of the (admittedly few) scholars focused on intermunicipal relations, the majority have been interested in the larger issues: the regional planning and coordination of transportation and sewage infrastructure, emergency services, development, property tax arbitrage and service provision, and emergency services. The bulk of these studies have, in turn, been focused on the popular and widespread use by provincial governments of two-tied municipal structures. [2, 3] Although such weighty concerns were undoubtedly the most common and pressing, the relations between municipalities have also included more mundane ones.

Note that Butternut Terrace was indicated to be an unimproved (dirt) road on this 1948 map.
Note that Butternut Terrace was indicated to be an unimproved (dirt) road on this 1948 map.

Beginning in 1888/9 and until the annexation of certain lands from Gloucester Township by Ottawa in 1950 (chiefly Manor Park), the eastern boundary of the City of Ottawa was described as “…thence easterly along Beechwood avenue to Butternut Terrace; thence along Butternut Terrace to Acacia Avenue…” [4] The west side in Ottawa and the east side in Rockcliffe. Of course, today the boundaries have been much-enlarged and there is no longer a Butternut Terrace. Instead, Acacia Avenue runs all the way from Beechwood to the Rockcliffe Parkway. As it would turn out, the renaming of Butternut Terrace to the more-harmonious-with-Rockcliffe Acacia would be a longer-term project and not without a certain measure of acrimony: at least from one familiar individual.

Source: Might's Ottawa City Directory, 1915
Source: Might’s Ottawa City Directory, 1915
butternut-cd-1949
Might’s Ottawa City Directory, 1949. Notice that it’s once again listed as part of Acacia Ave.

Might’s Ottawa City Directory, 1915 is the first to indicate that the name of Butternut had been changed to Acacia, in harmony with its lengthier component in the then Police Village of Rockcliffe Park. In her Rockcliffe Park: A History of the Village, Martha Edmond notes that, emboldened with their new status as a Village (and therefore enjoying greater autonomy from Gloucester Township), Council passed By-law 29 in 1927, which renamed a number of streets – including Butternut Terrace. [5] Of course, Rockcliffe was at best able to rename that segment of Butternut between Maple Lane and Mariposa. In order to realize their desire to see Acacia Avenue stretch from Beechwood to the river, they would have to convince Ottawa City Council. In 1928, Rockcliffe formally petitioned the City of Ottawa to change the name, which was recommended for approval of Council by the Board of Control.

4. — BUTTERNUT TERRACE — CHANGING NAME TO ACACIA AVE.

At the request of the Village of Rockcliffe Park, and with the approval of the Acting City Engineer, the Board recommends that Butternut Terrace be renamed Acacia Ave., and that a bylaw be introduced to give effect to the change. [6]

Given that the name of the street was not changed that year, it appears that Council rejected this recommendation and the issue was not considered to be sufficiently important to vigorously advocate for – neither on the part of the Board nor on the part of Rockcliffe Park. [7] Although I have not been able to locate Ottawa’s rationale for rejecting the name change, it might simply be a matter of Council feeling that there would not be any major confusion. At least, there would not be had Rockcliffe not renamed the segment between Maple Lane and Mariposa. On maps dated 1895, 1908, 1913, and 1920, Butternut and Acacia do not actually align: there is a slight incongruity at Mariposa Ave.

Maps from 1895, 1908, 1913, and 1920 show a Butternut Terrace and Acacia Avenue that do not align perfectly.
Maps from 1895, 1908, 1913, and 1920 show a Butternut Terrace and Acacia Avenue that do not align perfectly.
This map, from 1936, shows that the roadway realigned to be continuous.
This map, from 1936, shows that the roadway realigned to be continuous.

In Might’s Ottawa, Butternut Terrace was already a memory by the First World War. Even the 1923 edition (the last I have in my personal collection) does not list any Butternut Terrace: either in Ottawa or Rockcliffe. The Ottawa Public Library’s collection of city directories picks up again at 1941. [8]  In that year’s edition of the directory, we once again see Butternut Terrace listed and described as “[part] or Old Acacia av”. [9] This state of affairs remains until 1949, when the Might’s Directory describes Butternut Terrace as being “now included in Acacia av” and transferred all listings to that street. [10] It was in 1949 that, once again, the Village of Rockcliffe Park would request that the City of Ottawa change the name. Once again, the Board of Control would recommend that the change be adopted.

11.   BUTTERNUT TERRACE, CHANGING NAME TO “ACACIA AVE.”

The Village of Rockcliffe Park has requested that the name of Butternut Terrace be changed to “Acacia Ave.” and has expressed willingness to bear the cost involved.

The Board therefore recommends that the street name be changed accordingly, the Village of Rockcliffe Park to bear the cost. [11]

Carried.

This map, dated 1936, retains the street's name as Butternut Terrace. Source: Lucien Breault's Ottawa: Old and New (1946)
This map, dated 1936, retains the street’s name as Butternut Terrace. Source: Lucien Breault’s Ottawa: Old and New (1946)
butternut-cd-1916
Acacia Ave., as listed in Might’s Directory (1916). Note that it runs the entire length.

Perhaps the coverage of costs is what proved to be enticing, or perhaps it was simply a matter of the City not seeing it worth obstructing the Village of Rockcliffe on, but council proved to be much more receptive the the prospect of changing the name of Butternut Terrace. Indeed, this time would be for keeps and the city passed By-Law No. 55-49 on May 2nd.

 

A By-law of The Corporation of the City of Ottawa changing the name of Butternut Terrace.

WHEREAS that certain street known and designated as Butternut Terrace and shown on Plan Number 189537 and Plan Number 70, registered in the Registry Office for the Registry Division of the City of Ottawa, is in direct alignment with Acacia Avenue in the Village of Rockcliffe Park;

AND WHEREAS it is expedient to change the name of the said street as hereinafter provided;

AND WHEREAS the County Judge of the County of Carleton appointed Friday the 22nd day of April, 1949, at the hour of 2.30 o’clock in the afternoon, at his chambers in the Court House, Nicholas Street, Ottawa, as the day, hour and place for considering this by-law, and for hearing those advocating and opposing the said change;

AND WHEREAS a notice of such application in a form approved by the said Judge was published in The Ontario Gazette on the 2nd day of April, 1949, and once a week for four successive weeks in the Ottawa Journal newspaper, namely; on the 29th day of March 1949, and the 5th, 12th and 19th days of April 1949, pursuant to the direction of the said Judge;

AND WHEREAS the said Judge has by his certificate dated the 22nd day of April 1949, approved the changing the name of the said street as hereinafter provided;

THEREFORE, the Council of The Corporation of the City of Ottawa, by a vote of at least three-fourths of all the members thereof, enacts as follows:

1. The name of that certain street now known and designated as Butternut Terrace and shown on Plan Number 189537 and Plan Number 70, both registered in the Registry Office for the Division of the City of Ottawa, is hereby changed to Acacia Avenue and the said street shall hereafter and be known and designated as Acacia Avenue.

2. This by-law shall come into effect on the day on which a certified copy thereof is registered in the said Registry Office.

GIVEN under the Corporate Seal of the City of Ottawa this 2nd day of May, 1949.

(Sgd.) N.R. OGILVIE, City Clerk                        (Sgd.) E.A. BOURQUE, Mayor [12]

In general, any change or development – no matter the size or scope – in the general vicinity of Charlotte Whitton’s home on Rideau Terrace seemed to arouse both her suspicion and opposition. In her February 9, 1950 column in the Citizen, she wrote the following:

‘For Sale – That desirable property situated on corner of Rideau Terrace and Butternut Avenue, New Edinburgh, east of Mr. Graham’s gardens: about 4½ acres. This is the only property now left of this natural terrace. With southerly exposure. Five shade trees, city water. Price low and easy terms or will exchange for house in central locality.’

There it is, word for word exactly as it ran in an advertisement in The Citizen on New Year’s Day, January 1, 1900. And as I write this, fifty years later, I look out from that southern exposure on the natural terrace while the sun streams in my study window and lights up all my desk. I can look down even now upon an odd butternut tree but they have felled most of the shade trees to run up houses in the last ten years though a few tall elms are still etched against the sky and on Rideau Terrace two of the grave grey beeches greet one graciously at dawn and dusk.

It is rather lovely here where I have lived and worked for more than two score years: here, and at a similarly light sunroom table, overlooking Francis’ Gully in my own home at Renfrew. And for sixteen summers now I have scrawled away, high on the abrupt ridge above McGregor Lake where my little log cabin is now settled into its long winter sleep.

The Rideau and Butternut Terraces for years met here at the top of the hill and, joining hands, merged and went on together as far as Maple Lane, as gravely and happily as a young couple leaving the church of their marriage. Then the boundaries of Rockcliffe were set and, like most people who leave Ottawa for the svelte village, the meandering extension of the terraces turned its back on its humbler, solid origin and became Acacia, where never an acacia tree nor flower would bloom.

And now, not content with that, this summer Acacia has apparently decided to have nothing more to do with her name and family before her “high faluting” marriage, and Butternut Terrace has been wiped from the face of Ottawa and of Rockcliffe and has become Acacia, right down to Beechwood Avenue.

It’s just not fair, because our side of the Terrace is still in Ottawa, and as such in the public garbage belt, but it has[?] to change its name to match the other side of the street which is in Rockcliffe – hitherto the annex – and with a collective private enterprise garbage system.

And more than that, at the bottom and the top of the Terrace, Rockcliffe has put up a most blatant sign: “You are entering the Village of Rockcliffe. Watch out for Children.” as if they hadn’t dogged and darted all over your way down Rideau, Charlotte, Saint Patrick Streets and Bridge: and along Beechwood, in such shoals as Rockcliffe may never hope to boast – well, not until it goes bilingual.

A Fortified Post

And now, a ray of hope! I have just been out to lunch in Rockcliffe: it doesn’t take a passport yet to cross the line. And they’re mobilizing, and all power to them, against the policy of aggression being followed by totalitarian Ottawa. They are signing up an Elite Guard and, as far as I can judge, the SS will be the women, and some of the shrewdest, ablest women in this city aren’t in it at all, they are in Rockcliffe.

And I am happy! Because I understand that things like leases are subject to such emergencies as flood, fire, famine, earthquakes and war. And it’s war – war between Ottawa and Rockcliffe, and here I am, in the veriest place for defensive or offensive attack in the East, at the top of the hill, on the very frontier, the outthrust peak where the boundaries merge. [13]

Emphasis mine.

Although I concede that the above is quite possibly a rank abuse of blockquote, it does demonstrate the rather strong feelings the then future mayor had about such things. Indeed, the renaming remained important to her, as she wrote nearly a decade later of nuthatches in her year-end column that “[they] are set solely on spying our and spearing the smallest insect and the tiniest egg in the bark of one of the few great elms that the wreckers have left on our old Butternut Terrace – though now it’s Acacia!” [14]

Although the above represents a tame example of the operation of intermunicipal relations, it is likely that it represents the most common sorts of interaction between them. Charlotte Whitton’s reaction to City Council finally granting the wish of the Village of Rockcliffe Park may have been simply hers. I have found little to suggest that it was representative of the sort of rivalry that she was attempting to paint.

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[1] Cigler, Beverly A. (2011). “Neglected Aspects of Intergovernmental Relations and Federalism” in Donald C. Menzel and Harvey L. White (eds.) The State of Public Administration: Issues, Challenges, and Opportunities. Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, pp. 316-334.
[2] One example of such discussions is found in Lightbody, James (1997). “A new perspective on clothing the emperor: Canadian metropolitan form, function and frontiers.” Canadian Public Administration, Volume 40, No. 3, pp. 436-456. Other examples include Andrew Sancton’s Governing Canada’s City-Regions: Adapting Form to Function (1994), Merger Mania (2000), and The Limits of Boundaries: Why City-Regions Cannot be Self-Governing (2008). Additionally, former Westmount, QC mayor Peter Trent discusses such regional governance issues at length in his The Merger Delusion (2012).
[3] I have a piece centred on Murray Jones’ recommendations in the Ottawa, Eastview, and Carleton County Local Government Review (1965) coming down soon and will discuss the regional coordination and planning of services in more detail there.
[4] “City Limits and Ward Redistribution Under the new Arrangements.” The Ottawa Daily Citizen. February 20, 1888.
[5] Edmond, Martha (2005. Rockcliffe Park: A History of the Village. Ottawa: The Friends of the Village of Rockcliffe Park Foundation, p. 74.
[6] Minutes of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1928. March 5, 1928, p. 105.
[7] No by-law renaming the street was subsequently passed.
[8] At the Main Branch, the collection picks up in 1940, however, that copy is missing the Street and Householders Guide.
[9] Might’s Directory of the City of Ottawa, 1941. Toronto: Might’s Directories Ltd.
[10] Might’s Directory of the City of Ottawa, 1949. Toronto: Might’s Directories Ltd.
[11] Minutes of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1949. March 21, 1949, p. 188.
[12] By-laws of the Corporation of the City of Ottawa, 1949. May 2, 1959, By-Law No. 55-49, pp. 159-60.
[13] Whitton, Charlotte. “Rockcliffe, Rents and War.” Ottawa Citizen. February 9, 1950.
[14] Whitton, Charlotte. “Crazy Like Nuthatches.” Ottawa Citizen. December 29, 1959.