Toronto’s Old City Hall has stories to tell — but will it get the chance to share them?

“Freedom is a must!” declares one message scratched into the paint.

“Haha Duey they blamed you!” mocks another. “We’re even.”

Another lists the name and phone number of the “amazing lawyer” who won the scribbler’s case. “2 charges beat — 2017,” it says, urging fellow defendants to “call from anywhere.”

The messages were visible during a rare behind-the-scenes tour of Old City Hall the Star took in November after provincial criminal courts moved out and hint at the wealth of tales hidden within the 124-year-old, four-storey Romanesque landmark at the northeast corner of Bay and Queen streets.

From the grim basement cells to the stately elegance of its clock tower, from its hallowed council chamber to the curiosities lurking in its attic, the building is a repository of more than a century of civic history, both high and low. But its future is in doubt and, without a clear plan to preserve the site, its stories risk being lost.

A courthouse since its construction, the Ontario Court of Justice criminal courts left Old City Hall for a new complex on Armoury Street in May, and eight municipal-run provincial offence courts are set to relocate this year, leaving it without a tenant. Despite council voting in 2018 to advance plans for a city of Toronto museum at the site, little progress has been made and the 406,000-square-foot building, which municipal staff have estimated will require $190 million in work before a new tenant moves in, could spend years in limbo.

Diane Chin, chair of the Architectural Conservancy of Ontario, said Old City Hall’s designation as a heritage property and national historic site should save it from the worst fate: being deliberately knocked down. It already narrowly avoided the wrecking ball once, during the 1960s, when Eaton’s proposed erecting an office complex that would have left only its clock tower and cenotaph intact. Conservationists and activists fought the plan. But while it’s not in imminent danger today, Chin warned that old buildings that aren’t looked after can fall victim to “demolition by neglect.”

Coun. Josh Matlow, who has been advocating for the city museum for almost a decade, joked that “at the rate that city staff are going, my report requests are so old that they’ll end up being some of the first artifacts on display.” He said the city should do more to protect “one of Toronto’s most significant historical buildings.”

Designed by E.J. Lennox, the famed architect who was also behind Casa Loma — which itself was left vacant in the 1930s but escaped demolition — what was then known as the City Hall and York County Courthouse opened in 1899. In a speech to mark the occasion, Mayor John Shaw described it as “the most attractive place in Toronto” and a monument to “the perfect faith of the citizens of Toronto in the future of their glorious city.”

During the Star’s tour, which was conducted by staff from the city and Toronto Archives, much of the building’s glory was still evident, as were signs of disrepair.

The small white room at the top of Old City Hall’s 300-foot clock tower is a calm, secluded space in the heart of the busy city. A visitor who climbs the 255 steps to reach it can watch the translucent clock faces turn the sunlight red and blue, as the sound of traffic below drops to a whisper.

The original clock mechanism whirs away and every 15 minutes the quiet is broken by the bells that have marked time almost without interruption since they first rang out at midnight on Dec. 31, 1900.

The “attic” on the building’s upper floor is less impressive, but its maze of rooms still holds compelling traces of the past. Stencilled signs on the walls point to former locations of public health labs there that were used to test water quality in the early 1900s, according to Neil Brochu, supervisor of reference and outreach at the archives.

In recent years the attic has been used for storage. Although most court records were moved out when the criminal courts relocated, some legal detritus remains: piles of cassette tapes, boxes of sealed search warrants and a notebook containing handwritten courtroom arguments. One room is cluttered with surplus HVAC parts stacked halfway to the ceiling. The floor of another is spotted with bird droppings.

About two years ago, building staff discovered life-size plaster casts of a pair of grinning gargoyles like those decorating the outside of the building hiding in an attic closet. As of November they languished there next to a discarded computer monitor and a dead pigeon, their original purpose unknown.

In one empty courtroom, dark footprints on the carpet lead away from the witness box and then stop, as though its final occupant walked out and evaporated. (Old City Hall is rumoured to be haunted, but proof is elusive; in 2018, a paranormal investigator asked to search for the building’s “residual residents,” but never heard back from the city.)

In the southeast corner on the second floor is the former mayor’s office, which was converted to a judge’s quarters after municipal officials moved to the new Modernist city hall across the street in 1965. Adorning the ceiling is a series of what Brochu identified as early 20th-century low-relief friezes commemorating the 1749 founding of Fort Rouillé, the city’s incorporation in 1834 and other important moments in Toronto history.

The artful friezes are rarely seen by the public but are as impressive as Old City Hall’s more well-known artifacts, like the stained-glass window depicting Victorian Toronto’s commercial ambitions and the exterior grotesques rumoured to portray politicians who displeased Lennox.

In addition to a museum, the plan council advanced five years ago called for a public library branch, wedding chamber and covered event space in the courtyard of Old City Hall. Designs were commissioned, but a report due back at council in 2019 never materialized. The city says an update could be released this year.

There are rumours the province is eyeing the building as a temporary home for the Ontario Legislature when Queen’s Park undergoes its own renovations, starting in 2026, but the government says no decisions have been made.

Brochu said he’s not wedded to any one proposal, but he believes Old City Hall should be made more accessible to Torontonians, who for decades have only ventured inside if they had business with the courts. Reincorporating it “into the public life of the city … is a really exciting opportunity,” he said.

Russell Baker, manager of media relations for Toronto, said the city has spent $1.6 million on the museum plan, but work was delayed by COVID-19 and budget pressures. He said the municipality recognizes the importance of Old City Hall and “remains committed to advancing work that will determine the future uses and tenant options for this historic building.”