PORT LANDS SITE

Hearn site ruins, June 2012

If we now return back to the lakeshore, just beyond the mouth of the Don in the Toronto Port Lands, we find an immense, if diffuse collection of concrete ruins spread across the eastern end of the Outer Harbour — right in the vicinity of those modern-day ruins of the great and former Hearn Generating Station. In fact, we must assume a relatively modern heritage for our subject as well, since this entire area sits on what was, until the 1920s, a vast marshy extension of Ashbridge's Bay, thus precluding any sort of construction prior to this time. Coincidental to our subject, we might also remark on the aptness of this "Port Lands" location, noting that Portland cement (so named for an island off the south of England) is the key ingredient in most modern concrete, while the port of Toronto remains a major centre of cement production within the modern city. But on to the matter at hand...

Covering an area of approximately 12 hectares, with structures often separated by hundreds of meters, it is difficult to determine whether one should assess this as a single site, or take each grouping or structure as unrelated and individual. All would seem to share commonality in, at least, their eclectic make-up — generally taking the form of piled rubble cairns consisting of large fragments of various types of concrete (raw, precast, exposed aggregate; both reinforced and not), occasionally with bits of masonry and natural stone as well. The most prominent groupings seem to be concentrated around a chicane in Unwin Avenue near the northern end of the Leslie Street Spit. One cairn encircles a stand of trees near the top end of the turn. Another (or perhaps a series of cairns) extends intermittently from the bottom of the turn for roughly 50 yards. Other formations are more modest in scope, appearing from a distance as merely a slight outcropping of rocks, or a lone erratic boulder. There are also certain features that strike one as small barrows, or tumuli — perhaps inherent to the landscape, or perhaps manufactured. The situation is further confused by numerous large, ornamental stones being recently placed along certain stretches of the road and adjacent pathways. These, however, are easily distinguished by their civilized appearance and conspicuous location, with the genuine ruins maintaining a decidedly cruder and covert visage; hidden amongst the bush and in wild, vacant fields fenced-off from public access.


 North Unwin ruins, March 2017

Such structures, at least in the prehistoric tradition, usually indicate a site of burial or function as some domestic landmark (an orientation or boundary point, for instance). Occasionally, however, they will defy any such pat interpretation. So, as always, it is to the local toponymy that we must turn. "Ashbridge," to start with, would seem straightforward enough; suggesting an ash tree, or grove thereof, positioned by either a bridge or a brook (deriving from the Old English æsc + brigg/broc) — and perhaps further suggesting that aquatic "needle ash" of prior discussion, Yggdrasil. "Unwin," on the other hand, is slightly more abstruse. As the Oxford Names Companion succinctly puts it, this name comes down:

from the Old English personal name Hunwine, composed of the elements hun "bear cub" + wine "friend." Later in the Old or early Middle English period, this name came to be confused with the word unwine "enemy" (from the negative prefix un- + wine "friend"), and this is no doubt the source of the surname in some cases.

As for the first explanation, any English name from this period relating to bears stands out as somewhat peculiar. Wild bears are nowhere to be found in Britain today, being thought to have become extinct in England by Roman times (with small populations possibly subsisting in the wilds of Scotland until roughly the 10th century). Any specimens found on the island thereafter would have been foreign captives, usually imported from the Continent for the rather unfriendly practice of bear-baiting. This may suggest a pre-Albion origin for the name or, perhaps, a less literal one. Indeed, we should note that the most famous "bear" of British lore was not even a bear at all, but rather King "Arthur" — commonly assumed to stem from the Welsh arth, meaning "bear." Thus, any "bear cub friend" might refer to a companion of the young Arthur (or someone else so named). The most obvious companion, in this sense, would be the druidic wizard Merlin who guides the young prince through his journey to kingship in many an Arthurian tale. Of some interest to our investigations is the fact that this pseudo-historical character was likely based on the semi-historical figure of Myrddin the Wild, a Welsh magus connected with Rhydderch Hael (mentioned earlier with regards to the Crothers name) by marriage through his sister, and by war in opposing the forces of Rhydderch at the battle of Arfderydd (making for something of a proxy battle between "red kings").



 South Unwin ruins, March 2017

But before we head any further down such romantic trails, let us first consider another route. "Arthur" is cognate with the Greek arktos, also "bear," though generally in relation to the constellation Ursa Major (the "big bear") and observed in the nearby star "Arcturus" — literally "watcher" or "guardian of the bear," from arktos + ouros. Such could also be reasonably seen as a "friend" of this constellation which, as it happens, was known in early Britain by the name of Arthur's Wagon. Ursa Major, however, does not quite fit the description of "cub." So, as arktos begets "arctic," we might then look a little further north to Polaris, the "North Star" — friend to all navigators of the northern hemisphere — which sits at the tip of Ursa Minor's, or the "little bear's" tail.

As pole star, Polaris would also sit at the tip of any axial pillar in cosmic mill symbology — and, indeed, it is often referenced this way as a metaphorical point, pinnacle, or capstone. It is also conceived as a great linchpin, or "world nail," which holds the entire cosmos together. Both Ursae, Minor and Major, figure heavily into the mill mythos as a whole, and, naturally, the "little bear" particularly so. As we read again in Hamlet's Mill: "The ancient Pythagoreans, in their conventional language, called the two Bears the Hands of Rhea (the Lady of Turning Heaven)," while early Arab astronomers "call the star Kochab, beta Ursae Minoris, 'mill peg,' and the stars of the Little Bear, surrounding the North Pole, and Fas al-rahha (the hole of the mill peg)."

Further afield, "the Siberian Kirghis call the three stars of the Little Bear nearest the Pole star, which form an arch, a 'rope' to which the two larger stars of the same constellation, the two horses, are fastened." This, of course, brings up the concept of heavenly equines once more. But it also leads (albeit, somewhat indirectly) to our next toponym. Continuing on, "the seven stars of the Great Bear they call the seven watchmen, whose duty it is to guard the horses from the lurking wolf. When once the wolf succeeds in killing the horses, the end of the world will come. In other tales the stars of the Great Bear are 'seven wolves' who pursue those horses. Just before the end of the world they will succeed in catching them." Now, the most "architectural" of our harbourside ruins lies directly across from the Hearn plant, veiled within a narrow strip of boscage separating the power station from the harbour itself. What is most obviously notable about this particular ruin are the seven large megaliths which dominate the formation: two upright menhirs of reinforced concrete, both standing around 8 feet or so, and five cuboid blocks of varying size, each capped with a rectangular frustum which itself is then topped by six metal connecting bolts, altogether rising up to 6 feet in height. The seven megaliths harken back to the seven stars of Ursa Minor, and then back to Unwin where we began. Their proximity to the aforementioned Hearn, however, would suggest a more direct link, and so it is to that name we now will turn.

 Ruins around the Hearn site, June 2012

The seemingly simple "Hearn," as it turns out, requires a great deal of unpacking. The ONC lists four alternative origins. The first is a "topographic name for someone who lived by a bend in a river or a recess in a hill," from the Old English hyrne, with proposed relations to the word "horn." The next is a habitational name from the dative plural form of the Old English hær, meaning "stone." The last two are variations of other names, the English "Heron" and the Irish "Ahern." The latter comes to us from the Gaelic Ó hEachthighearna which, saving the full etymological deconstruction, ultimately breaks down to a "descendant of the horse master" — a now commonly recurring image. The former, meanwhile, suggests four further alternatives; with one being an obvious allusion to the bird of the same name, and the other three being yet more Gaelic surnames denoting relations of either a swarthy ancestor (Ó hUidhrin), a fearful/fearsome ancestor (Ó hEaráin), or a servant of St. Kieran (Mac Giolla Chiaráin, with Kieran/Chiaráin meaning "dark one").

Upon surveying these options, one might first point to the heron as a somewhat interesting bird if we're again willing to link English etymology with Egyptian mythology (as we did earlier in the case of the lapwing in Windfields Park). Here we invoke the legendary Bennu bird, a solar/creation deity generally depicted as a species of grey heron in art and hieroglyphics, and thought to be a precursor of the phoenix in later Greek tradition. It was this immortal bird who is said to have perched on the fabled mound of Benben, which rose from the primordial waters of Nun, to call the rest of creation into being. This mound, in turn, inspired the famous Benben stone of the temple of Ra at Heliopolis ("City of the Sun" to the Greeks, but simply I͗wnw, or "The Pillars" for the Egyptians themselves), which is thought to have served as a prototype for the capstones of all later pyramids, obelisks, and similar monuments — and, perhaps, for our cosmic mill's axial symbology.



 Further views of the Hearn site, March 2017

Further along such adventurous lines, one distinguished member of the Royal Irish Academy (indeed, a former vice-president), Marcus Keane, put forward in his 1867 work on The Towers and Temples of Ancient Ireland, the theory of an Egyptian heritage for these Irish monuments by way of the ancient Cuthite Phoenicians (otherwise known as the Samaritans of biblical fame, whose descent, in part, from the aforementioned Levites we might now also note). As part of his argument Mr. Keane draws a philological connection between "Phoenician" and "Finian," while we might draw a similar connection between "Phoenician" and "phoenix" — and perhaps on firmer grounds, as both would seem to stem from the same word, phoinos, Greek for "dark-" or "blood-red," whereas "Finian" is generally held to come from the Gaelic fionn which, as we've already seen, means "white" or "fair" (though this leaves us, intriguingly, with yet another red/white dichotomy). Of even further intrigue, however, we find Mr. Keane, in another passage, supporting his thesis in the following manner:

I hope to furnish ample evidence of the fact that the first Centaur was identical with Cronos (Saturn), and that both were identical with Nimrod, the mighty hunter — the head of the Cuthite families, and their first King, whose capital was Babel or Babylon ... I make this brief allusion here to the subject of Centaurs (which shall afterwards be examined at greater length), to account for the almost identical names of Centaurs appearing among our Irish Saints, viz.: — Saint CRONAN, alias MOCHUA, for CRONOS, alias BUDH, — Saint CIARAN, for the Centaur CHIRON, — Saint NESSAN, for the Centaur NESSUS. These are among the most ancient, as well as the most celebrated, Irish Saints; and they will be found to be purely mythological.

We will first note here that Cronos/Saturn also features prominently in the work of Santillana and von Dechend, being identified (along with his numerous comparative mythological relations) as the lost "Ruler of a Golden Age" and thus "Lord of the Mill." As for "Saint Ciaran" he, of course, is the Kieran of above; first of the Irish-born saints (among numerous subsequent others of the same name). Chiron, meanwhile, is the pre-eminent centaur of Greek mythology, famed for his knowledge in all things, tutor of Aeneas, Achilles, Jason, Heracles, and countless others — truly the "horse master" (or, at least, the "half-horse master") of "Ahern," if one should go so far. Indeed, among his pupils was another "Pheonix," a Myrmidon charioteer of the Illiad so named, whom Chiron cured of an accursed blindness (with shades of Midir, Odin, et al.). So revered was Chiron, in fact, that he is said to be honoured with two constellations: Centaurus and Sagittarius — although both predate any Greek interpretation and can be traced, at least, to ancient Mesopotamia as representing the Mul-gud-alim (a creature more resembling the Minotaur) and Nergal (a chimerical deity comprised of various human/animal elements) respectively. We will recall the Minotaur from earlier, with all his underworld associations. As we then learn from Manfred Lurker's Dictionary of Gods and Goddesses, Nergal was himself lord of the underworld "particularly venerated in the city of Kuthu, whose name, significantly, served as a synonym for the realm of the dead" — and, yes, it is from this very city that we find the origin of Keane's "Cuthites."

Withal, these two constellations are each notable for another reason. Mul-gud-alim/Centaurus famously contains Alpha Centauri, a cluster of the three closest known stars to Earth (other than our own sun). Nergal/Sagittarius, meanwhile, contains the star Sigma Sagittarii which, under its Babylonian designation Nunki, is among the oldest named stars on record. We read in Richard Hinckley Allen's 1899 Star Names: Their Lore and Meaning that, according to the Euphratean Tablet of the Thirty Stars, Nunki was:

the Star of the Proclamation of the Sea, this Sea being the quarter occupied by Aquarius, Capricornus, Delphinus, Pisces, and Piscis Australis. It is the same space in the sky that the Greek astronomer Aratus, circa 270 B.C., designated as the Water; perhaps another proof of the Euphratean origin of much of Greek astronomy.

We now must recall the Bennu bird's progenitive proclamation upon the cosmic sea of "Nun," (here, with respect to Nunki) while, perhaps, leaving any further discussion of the southern constellations "Phoenix" and "Grus" (the crane/heron) for those with an even more heuristic temperament. Let us merely mention that the only other reference to Nunki in Allen's book occurs in a footnote relating to another star, Eta Carinae, "one of the temple stars associated with Ea, or Ia, of Eridhu." As Allen goes on to explain:

Eridhu, or Eri-duga, the Holy City, Nunki, or Nunpe, one of the oldest cities in the world,
even in ancient Babylonia, was that kingdom's flourishing port on the Persian Gulf, but, by
the encroachments of the delta, its site is now one hundred miles inland. In its vicinity the
Babylonians located their sacred Tree of Life.

Eridhu, as home of the first Sumerian kings, has long been speculated to be the original site of Babel, capital of Mr. Keane's Nimrod, only later to be succeeded by Babylon further to the north. We will now recall that the first mention of "Lucifer" by name is to be found in Isaiah 14 of the Old Testament, with reference not specifically to Satan, but rather to some fallen "king of Babylon," likened to the falling of the morning star (the link between Lucifer and Satan is a later Christian concordance of early church fathers further likening this passage with Luke 10:18 wherein the Lord "beheld Satan as lightening fall from heaven"). On the other hand, we see some Lucifer/Satan connection to Keane's Cronos/Saturn (thence Nimrod) by way of various other routes. First we may remark of their shared adversarial role against God/Zeus for control of the world, and their common fate of defeat and imprisonment (or reign) in Hell/Tartarus. Second, we may refer to numerous linkages through such mythical intermediaries as Pan, Moloch, and the Phoenician god Baʿal Hammon. Then there are the various attempts to link "Saturn" and "Satan" on philological grounds, which, though all tenuous at best, lead us to speak of our own "Unwin's" second definition, "enemy," which is precisely the accepted Hebrew translation of "Satan," or even to speak of "Hearn's" links with a certain "fearsome/dark one." Lastly, we may point to the etymological similarity between our "light-bearer" Lucifer, and the name of "Nimrod," which at least one noted biblical scholar, Joachim Jeremias, has arriving from the Sumerian namra udu, meaning "shining light." On a related topic, we may also briefly speak of Cronos' regular linguistic conflation with Chronos, the Greek embodiment of chronological time, noting the former's wife/sister Rhea, previously met as the "Lady of Turning Heaven," and thus a keeper of celestial time herself.


 Individual features of the Hearn site, 2017

As for the temple at Eridhu (known as E-abzu), and its patron Ea (the Akkadian name for the Sumerian god Enki) both relate to that deified primordial aquifer of Mesopotamian cosmogony, Apsû, whose chthonic status also aligns him with Cronos, and whose seminal subterranean waters find their counterpart in Nun, the Mímisbrunnr, and countless more. Adding, then, such talk of a "sacred tree" by now suggests more talk of mythic mills — and, indeed, we find Santillana and von Dechend plying similar waters, only with regards to Alpha Carinae (otherwise known as Canopus) and the constellation Eridanus. Here we must cite at length from their chapter "The Whirlpool," as any attempted summation would likely prove longer than the quotation itself:

That there is a whirlpool in the sky is well known; it is most probably the essential one, and it is precisely placed. It is a group of stars so named (zalos) at the foot of Orion, close to Rigel (beta Orionis, Rigel being the Arabic word for "foot"), the degree of which was called "death," according to Hermes Trismegistos, whereas the Maori claim outright that Rigel marked the way to Hades (Castor indicating the primordial homeland). Antiochus the astrologer enumerates the whirl among the stars rising with Taurus. Franz Boll takes sharp exception to the adequacy of his description, but he concludes that the zalos must, indeed, be Eridanus "which flows from the foot of Orion." Now Eridanus, the watery grave of Phaethon — Athanasius Kircher's star map of the southern hemisphere still shows Phaethon's mortal frame lying in the stream — was seen as a starry river leading to the other world. The initial frame stands, this time traced in the sky. And here comes a crucial confirmation. That mysterious place, pi narati, literally the "mouth of the rivers," meaning, however, the "confluence" of the rivers, was traditionally identified by the Babylonians with Eridu ... Eridanus, lacking a decent Greek etymology, finds a reasonable derivation from Eridu as was proposed by Kugler, Eridu being the seat of Enki-Ea, Sumerian mulNUNki = Canopus (alpha Carinae) ... the bright star near the South Pole, as has been established irrefragably by B. L. van der Waerden ["The bright southern star Canopus was Ea's town Eridu (NUNki dE-a)."]

The observant reader will have noted, in quick succession, a litany of recognizable names and concepts just within this one passage — and the introduction of a few new figures is, as we shall now see, to raise a whole host of other familiars.

Orion, to start with, is a well known constellation, signifying the celebrated huntsman of Greek mythology. His occupation has often linked him with Keane's "mighty hunter" Nimrod in comparative mythology, and to the huntress Artemis/Diana in actual myth (noting both characters' potential links with Lucifer as previously discussed). This brings to mind a third mythic huntsman who then takes us back to the name which sent us down this winding trail so many paragraphs ago: Hearn — or, in this case, "Herne" — the ghoulish, antler-headed spirit of Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor. Although he is only first attested to in this play, as the Bard himself writes "the superstitious idle-headed eld receiv'd, and did deliver to our age, this tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth," implying a much older descent. His appearance has led some to link him with the Celtic deity Cernunnos of whom we spoke beforehand with respect to the stag (refer also to those hunters Cocidius and Actaeon, mentioned along side). His purported suicide by hanging from the oak he's said to haunt (a tale seemingly fashioned later on by the 18th century Shakespeare enthusiast, Samuel Ireland) has also linked him with Odin and, now, with certain of our other sites (by way of other hangings). Any direct link with Orion, however, would appear to be merely vocational.

Returning, then, to that initial huntsman, we do find him often linked, by proximity and by prey, to our stellar bears of Unwin Ave. As far back as Homer's Odyssey we read of "the Great Bear, nicknamed the Wain, which always wheels round in the same place and looks at Orion the Hunter with a wary eye." Of further interest is his reputed lineage from the sea-god Poseidon and Euryale, another daughter of the aforementioned King Minos, he of the Minotaur — although some would have him born from the skin of a bull and Poseidon's urine (hence his name, from the Greek ouron). In either case, some bovine association seems confirmed by his constellation's nearness to Taurus. Additionally, we may note an episode in which this hero was blinded (here by Oenopion, king of Chios) only to have his sight restored by gazing into the sun, thus forging another link in a chain of Odin-Midir-Mithra symbolism.

Phaethon (translating, like many previous others, as "the shining one"), meanwhile, descends from the solar deity Helios (see Mithra again) and the sea-nymph Clymene, and is remembered more for his death than his life. After failing to control the horses of his father's sun chariot, Phaethon, in a fate which almost seems to combine those of Bellerophon and Icarus before, fell (or was struck down by a thunderbolt from Zeus) into the Eridanus — a river of no precise location in Greek mythology, though thought to originate somewhere in the Alps (refer to our East and West Don ruins). As a celestial stream, however, this constellation far outstretches Greece, and even Europe, being likened variously to the Nile, Euphrates, and other such rivers across the ancient world. Returning, then, to our own time and place, and with respect to the quoted references to Eridanus/Eridhu/Nunki above, we will observe our current site's location near the "mouth" of the Don, and the "confluence" with Ashbridge's Bay, noting its similarly land-based position, newly risen from a once more aqueous area.


 Satellite ruins found adjacent to the main Hearn site, 2017

The final topic of relevant import introduced by the passage above is the star Canopus, and its associate constellation, Carina. We find the star named after the Spartan pilot of King Menelaus' ship during the Trojan War. Canopus also leant his name to a port city at the mouth of the Nile which was built around the spot where he is said to have died. This city was later to become the site of the Temple of Serapis, a Ptolemaic conflation of Osiris and the bull-god Apis, who then, in some circles, became another of Mithra's many alter-egos. To now tie this all back to our investigations at the beginning of this section, it is interesting to note that, while there is currently no single "southern pole star" the likes of Alpha Ursae Minoris (the Southern Cross formation currently approximates this function below the equator), some 12,000 years from now, Canopus is expected fill this role, as Vega replaces Polaris in the north.

As for "Carina" we find in this name the Latin term for the keel of a ship; fitting to Canopus, the site of our ruins, and all of the other nautical and marine imagery so far discussed. Yet where, one might ask, is the rest of the vessel? Conveniently, the deck and the sails can still be found in the nearby constellations of "Puppis" and "Vela," which, together with Carina, once formed the immense super-asterism known as Argo Navis. This is, of course, that same Argo of Jason and the Golden Fleece, who's crew included such familiar names as Bellerophon, Theseus, Orpheus, and Castor, as well as numerous students of the abovementioned Chiron (Asclepius, Caeneus, Heracles, Oileus, Peleus, Telamon and, of course, Jason himself).

As is well known, he who held the Golden Fleece held the throne of Jason's homeland, Iolcus. What is lesser known is that the Golden Fleece may not have been "gold" at all, but rather a certain shade of "Tyrian red," potentially making for yet another "red king" connection. This prized colour, derived from the mucus of Muricid sea snails, was emblematic of royalty across the ancient Mediterranean. It is also from this purplish-red that the abovementioned Phoenicians are thought to have gained their Grecian name, being noted producers of this dye (and Tyre being a port in ancient Phoenicia). Indeed, as far back as the 6th century B.C. we find the Greek poet Simonides, in his Hymn to Poseidon, stating that the Fleece was "dyed with sea-purple." We also find reference to red or purple garments worn by Jason in Pindar and Apollonius Rhodius. And while the very name "Argo" is traditionally assumed from argos, "shining, bright" (see all such above), it also harkens to the Akkadian argamannu, meaning both "red purple wool" and "tribute" (Silver, 2004). So how does one get from a deep red to gold? Quite easily, in fact. We might simply presume "golden" to be metaphorical of the value that any fleece coloured by this rare dye would have. More literally, commentators from Strabo to the present day have posited that the "Golden Fleece" was so called because it was either to be traded for gold, or was used in the process of panning for gold (as was common practice with such hides at the time). Moreover, there has often been a tendency to relate and conflate these colours throughout the ancient world, as we have already seen with the Celtic donn ("light brown inclining to yellow or red") and derg ("colour of blood, flame; also of orange or tawny hue as of ale, gold, etc."), further noting that many things stained with the deepest of reds will, when left exposed to the light of the sun, eventually fade to a golden pallor.

Any further relevance resulting from the fact that two of this city's oldest sporting institutions (the Argonaut Rowing Club and, by extension, the Toronto Argonauts Football Club) honour this quest for the Fleece — or that the ship itself was said to be built from the oracular trees of Dodona (previously linked, through some faint means, to our Don) — must remain, for now, purely in the realm of future conjecture. Let us, however, in finally leaving the Port Lands, bid one last farewell to the astral Argo Navis which, like its namesake, and the erstwhile structures we've been attempting to read, is now principally a thing of the past. Due to its unwieldy proportions and oblique location in the sky, this great stellar galley was eventually broken apart by astronomers and today lies likes a ruined constellation, shipwrecked at the bottom of the southern horizon. And, so, we sail on to our next port of call...