SOUTH HUMBER OBELISKS

Two of four obelisks, April 2012

As we now depart from the Outer Harbour, observant readers will have noticed that we have managed, so far, in our explorations to avoid anything west of Dufferin Street. Indeed, one might wonder if the lefthand side of the city is somehow lacking in the type of concrete curiosities which fleck our eastern end. We can be assured, however, that the west is no less rich — though its treasures may, as a general rule, be of a somewhat more understated nature.

One might speak of an errant section of wall found along the Mimico Creek, just as it passes beneath Royal York Road. Or, of an artifact quite redolent of our Curity Denehole, plunged into the middle of the Etobicoke Creek, just shy of Queen Elizabeth's Way — not to mention an absorbing little stepped gabion weir, off in an anonymous sub-branch further upstream, that begs questions similar to those posed by the Milner Creek Tower. Then there is a modest, though thought-provoking assortment of rubble along the west bank of the Black Creek in Keelesdale park; an oddly-fashioned, half-wood/half-concrete object rising from a tiny pond just to the north in Coronation Park; and a small, crumbled lingam by the West Humber River, easily missed amongst the undergrowth of Ester Lorrie Park and situated right above the evocatively named Moon Valley Drive. That being said, let us, in completing this survey of Toronto's wondrous concrete relics, look to the few examples which challenge this rule of western understatement and examine what are, possibly, two of the most ostentatious sites in the city — both of which happen to find themselves along the same river system as those last mentioned above: the Humber.


 Various western ruins, 2011-2015

It should probably not be surprising that we are now drawn to this river, second only to the Don in local geographic and historical prominence. It is, perhaps, only surprising that there isn't more to find. Nevertheless, we locate our first site near the mouth of the Humber, just a little ways up along the west bank in South Humber Park. Here, sunk in amongst the trees and reeds at the river's edge, stand four squat concrete obelisks, arranged roughly in a 20x20 foot square, each rising between 7 to 10 feet from the ground, and being approximately 5 feet per side around the base. All appear to be topped by a protruding length of bolted metal, suggesting some further height to these objects at one time; with, perhaps, all four serving as support piers for a single former structure. Nonetheless, we are again left with the tantalizing question of why what remains has remained — and what currently remains are four obelisks.

Obelisks are, of course, most associated with Egypt — and in Egypt they were most associated with sun worship and the solar deity Ra. As mentioned beforehand, they find their predecessor in the pyramidical Benben stone of Heliopolis, and it is at Heliopolis where one can still find the oldest obelisks to remain in situ. While "obelisk" is a Greek word meaning "spit" or "needle," the Egyptians would have called such a monument tekhen, a complex term with various reputed meanings including "drumbeat," "protection," and "piercing." Pliny, however, likely hits closest to the mark with regards to architecture in writing "an obelisk is a symbolic representation of the sun's rays, and this is the meaning of the Egyptian word for it."


 Views of the obelisks, March 2017

Obelisks were generally raised in pairs as gateway pillars to temples and tombs. Occasionally a solitary monolith would be erected to commemorate some singular event or monarch (as soon became common practice beyond Egypt, noting the prevalence of such monuments, landmarks, gravestones, et cetera — from classical times to the present day). A foursome of obelisks is quite uncommon, however, and those in the shape of our South Humber quadruplets are equally rare. The closest historical correlate might be the ruined sun temple at Abu Gorab, which stood (while it was still standing) more like an elongated pyramid than any traditional tekhen. It would seem, therefore, that we must look again to our surroundings for any clues to the purpose of this peculiar formation.

South Humber Park lies within a larger area known as the Humber Marshes, just north of the Humber Sewage Treatment Plant, and on the former site of the Humber Valley Golf Course. As we can see, not much but "Humber" immediately volunteers itself in terms of toponymy, so this would seem as good a place as any to start. We find in this name yet another prominent feature of Yorkshire transplanted into Ontario's capital city; noting that, just as the Humber of England divides Yorkshire from Lincolnshire (and previously Northumbria from Mercia), so here does the Humber divide the former borough of Etobicoke from the rest of Toronto. Beyond these cursory attributes, however, what more might this name have to say?


 Further views from 2012

Unfortunately, our faithful ONC has only "an ancient pre-English river name of uncertain origin and meaning" to offer. Fortunately, others have been more bold in proposing both origins and meanings, surmising everything from a generic proto-Celtic term for any sort of large river, to the honouring of a specific Viking warlord named Hubba, who helped lead the Danish incursion into Britain during the 9th century. Ptolemy had this river as "Abus" by the 2nd century, which some relate to the Welsh aber, meaning "river mouth" or "estuary," and others to the Latin abdo, meaning "to hide" or "conceal." Regarding the latter possibility, one can't help but note the similarity between such early versions of Humber as "Humbre" and "Umbri" (reflected in the previously mentioned kingdom of Northumbria; "north of the Humber") and the Latin verb umbro, meaning "to cast a shadow" or "hide in shade." We then might recall Reverend Dempsey's "shaded or smothered river" interpretation of the Avoca, Senator Nicholls' "Shadowbrooke" estate, and perhaps even our own "dim" and "hidden" interpretations of certain Villaways by the East Don ruin.

Viewed in this darkening light, we seem to have something of an opposite to the Don through its Mississaugan name, Wonscotanach, translated as "burning bright point." The Mississaugan name for the Humber, however, was reputedly Cobechenonk, which, by most accounts, meant "leave the canoes and go back" — apparently in relation to the well-tread "Toronto Carrying Place" portage route between lakes Simcoe and Ontario, of which the Humber was an integral part. This seems a rather strange interpretation, though, as the general idea of any portage is to bring the canoes with you — and then, of course, to use them once one encounters a river. In any event, this advice (or warning) would seem to have gone unheeded by previous and subsequent cultures as the Humber, and particularly this southern stretch, has been the site of much historical activity.


The individual obelisks, 2017

Barley two kilometers north of the obelisks, on the opposite side of the river in what today is known as Baby Point, stood the Iroquois village of Teiaiagon ("crosses the stream") and an associated burial ground, today designated as Thunderbird Mound. Among the artifacts found at this site includes what James Marsh, editor-in-chief of The Canadian Encyclopedia, describes as an "exquisite moose antler hair comb whose carved representation of a panther with a rattlesnake tail, transforming into a bear and then into a human shape, evokes shape shifting and transitions from one world to another." While this supernatural quadrumvirate attends faintly to our four obelisks, another quartet reveals itself if Teiaiagon is added to a succession of three 18th century French trading forts built to replace this native village. Known individually, and collectively, as the Magasin Royal, these "royal stores" include Fort Douville (built in 1720, across the river from Taiaiagon at the current site of the Old Mill Inn), Fort Portneuf (built at the beginning of 1750 by the mouth of the Humber; also known as Fort Toronto, since the Humber was then known as the Toronto River), and Fort Rouillé (built at the end of 1750, further down the shore at what now is Exhibition Place). Though farthest from our current site, Fort Rouillé attracts our attention by the fact that its location was marked in 1887 by a round obelisk of its own (the oldest and, aside from the South African War Memorial, only such civic monument of note in the city). Additional to this, the fort derives its name from a surname either homonymic or directly related to the word rouillé, French for anything of a "rusty" shade of red. With "Toronto" having already been covered, and "Portneuf" ("new harbour") and "Douville" (village of someone called "Deudo") being of little apparent interest, we might remark that the Old Mill was originally the "King's Mill" (as commemorated in the adjacent King's Mill Park), thus tying the frailest of threads between this site and yet another "red king."

The only other toponym of conceivable pertinence would have to be Stonegate Road, which leads directly into South Humber Park from the north. While the "stone" of our obelisks is plainly artificial, the "gate" aspect of "Stonegate" recalls the original Egyptian purpose of such objects (as well as previous locales like Hamlet Gate, Helicon Gate, and Water Tower Gate). We might also note that this gateway (if, indeed, that's what the name signifies) is roughly positioned toward the four cardinal points, with the obelisks pointing in the direction of the poles, and the gaps in between toward the alignment of the street-grid — although, like the trio of Roxborough pillars before, we would have in this potential four-posted portal another gateway of elevated dimensions; allowing for not just 4, or even 6 routes of passage, but now 12 possible directions by which to proceed.