I Love Paris…

Every second Friday my husband Peter and I escape from our house so that Lucy can come in and clean. What destination could be better than Paris? No, not That Paris – the other one. The one about an hour’s drive from Toronto.

In the fall, I enrolled in a University of Toronto architecture course that covered heritage buildings in small towns of southern Ontario. We studied different architectural styles and periods. Several of them are represented in Paris. We decided to go exploring.

As we drove there, Peter asked about the name. Were we going to see a copycat Eifel Tower? In fact the name comes from something far less sophisticated: one of the town’s natural resources – plaster of Paris! Tons of gypsum, which was originally found in France, is now mined along the banks of the two rivers, the Nith and the Grand, which converge in the centre of this small Ontario town. So no Eifel Tower, no Louvre, no Notre Dame cathedral. But lots of other interesting architecture to see.

Our first discovery walk was into Lower Town where several landmark cobblestone buildings are still standing. Levi Boughton, one of the early settlers, arrived from England in 1838, armed with first-hand knowledge of cobblestone construction. When he found the perfect stones along the banks of the two rivers, he was in heaven.

A close look at the construction of these places – a church and several private residences – shows that building them was labour-intensive for sure. Cobblestones, we learned, are about the size of a fist; bigger than pebbles and smaller than boulders. Each smooth round cobblestone was carried up from the riverbanks and painstakingly placed in neat rows of gypsum/plaster. They have withstood the ravages of Ontario weather for years.

Then we walked along the Grand River to Upper Town, the city centre. The original hotel, the Bradford built in the 1850’s, is still in use today, renamed the Arlington. Just up the street is the Romanesque-style Presbyterian Church built in 1893. The wheel window, ornate brickwork, round towers and terra cotta detail are hard to ignore. The town library, paid for by Andrew Carnegie in 1904, conforms to his specifications of a stately front entrance with an imposing staircase. Unfortunately this building was not accessible, so the original entrance has been blocked off, and the main entrance is now around the corner at street level.

As you would guess, the mansions are located in Upper Town too, along an aptly named street: Grand River St. These homes were originally built by the town’s wealthiest and most influential citizens. Norman Hamilton, who made his millions from a distillery and a pork-packing business, designed one of the earliest stately homes, a beautiful Regency “cottage,” Hamilton Place, in 1884. Even for such a large structure, he chose cobblestones.

Other large homes have been repurposed to suit the needs of modern Paris residents. Captain Peter Cox, a military man from England, built an ornate Italian Villa on Grand River Street. It’s now a funeral home. Hiram Capron, known as the town’s founder, built a huge mansion on the banks of the Grand in 1887. It was later purchased and extensively renovated by John Penman who also built a huge business out of men’s underwear. This imposing mansion is now a retirement residence. It looked pretty good to us!

In modern times this place is often referred to as “Ontario’s prettiest little town,” and we could see the potential on a warm summer day. The two rivers meet at a park in the centre of town where benches invite strollers to sit and enjoy the view. Small boutique shops line the streets. We were tempted to do some Christmas shopping there, but we were interlopers and didn’t want to scare the locals who might fear our potential Toronto Covid germs. So we ate our sandwiches in the car and then headed back down the highway to our clean house, happy to have had such an interesting glimpse of the past.

Sue