Exploring the mythical tunnel’s southern entry point proved inconclusive, as well. Stephen Otto, co-chair of the
Friends Of Fort York, explained that his organization is aware of the fabled tunnel. To date, archeological digs and extensive renovations on the grounds have turned up nothing resembling a beer-run passageway.
Otto has heard of only one Fort York tunnel. It was built during an incident he says took place early in the 20th century. Apparently, miscreants attempted to penetrate the munitions cache by burrowing under one of the fort’s ramparts. Authorities apprehended the culprits before the situation became explosive.
The tunnel theory began to seem even less believable when Otto explained that soldiers were actually provided with a daily ration of beer and spirits. As well, Dylan’s Tavern, a popular drinking house, was located a bottle cap’s throw from the barracks, at what is now Front and Bathurst Streets. Considering this, if soldiers had the mind to tunnel, why not just prairie dog it to Dylan’s Tavern? Less tunnel time equals more time for rabble rousing.
After the British established
New Fort York in 1841 (later known as
Stanley Barracks) on the present-day grounds of Exhibition Place, the original Fort York—the one in the shadow of the Gardiner Expressway—had little military usefulness.
(Proving how malleable an urban legend can be, a version of the story has soldiers tunnelling from Stanley Barracks to the Sheaf, a distance of nearly two kilometres! The redcoats would have been mighty thirsty after a dig like that.)
As for Muddy York’s unblemished reputation, the truth is it wasn’t so wholesome. True, the temperance movement was alive and well, but imbibing among soldiers was the norm, as was the presence of prostitution at the garrison’s gate. In
Historic Fort York 1793–1993 author Carl Benn tells how soldiers from the Rifle Brigade ambushed constables sent to arrest prostitutes plying their trade on garrison commons.
Burrowing hundreds of metres would have been an engineering marvel. Depending on when the tunnel was completed, the soldiers would have needed to breach at least one
rail bed. Geography also worked against such an endeavour. Tunnelling to the Wheat Sheaf would have necessitated excavating underneath
Garrison Creek.
And herein is a possible explanation for the Fort York–Wheat Sheaf express. At eight kilometres in length, Garrison Creek once flowed into Lake Ontario just east of original Fort York. (Back then, the shoreline was much closer to the fort.) Beginning in the 1880s, the watercourse was diverted into sewers. Encased underground, a rivulet known as
Fort Reach would have been easily accessible to adventurous soldiers.
Hypothetically, soldiers could have
entered this particular sewer and trekked north underground, resurfacing a few paces west of the Wheat Sheaf at Walnut Avenue and King Street.
So what if the stench of sewage clung to their wool tunics? A night on the town in ’ol Muddy York may have required some sacrifice.