YELLOW CREEK PILLARS

Roxborough site, March 2012

Heading now about the same distance south from Todmorden as one would head north to Crothers Woods, we encounter another colourful feature of the landscape: the mouth of the Yellow Creek. While no specific evidence appears for any concomitant "yellow king," certain regal implications would seem to emanate from the nearby grounds of Castle Frank and the all-imposing Prince Edward Viaduct (it may, or may not, also bear mentioning that much of the Red Branch Cycle of legends, as cited above, is contained within a manuscript known as the Leabhar Buidhe Leacáin, or "Yellow Book of Lecan").

Travelling up this tributary of the Don, we are not long in finding more remnants of strange structures past. On the northeast bank of the creek, right across from Craigleigh Gardens, two rectangular pillars stand ahead of a chain-link fence seemingly belonging to disused tennis court. Both would appear related (currently or formerly) to a property on Beaumont Road which runs atop the hill directly above this site. Each pillar stands approximately 7 feet in height, 2 feet in width per side, and is comprised of a random mix of concrete and natural stone masonry. A rusted length of chain attends to the northwest pillar, while a rusted metal bracket extends an inch or so near the top of both pillars on the sides facing one another (though angled in opposite directions).

Beaumont pillars, 2012 and 2017

In examining the pertinent toponymy around these pillars, we find in "Beaumont" an English surname of Norman French extraction meaning simply "lovely hill," with its only distinguishing feature, according to our ONC, being that it is "most common in Yorkshire." "Craigleigh," meanwhile, at first seems a face-value mixture of the Gaelic craig, meaning "rock," and the Old English leigh, meaning a "meadow," "glade," or other such clearing. If, however, one were to seek more linguistic uniformity, we might look toward the similarly named Irish townland of Craiglea, meaning "grey rock" entirely in its own Celtic tongue — and it is true that the Craigleigh pillars are, indeed, made of grey "rocks." But, aside from this rather banal fact, there seems little more to be said for either etymology.

Of more apparent intrigue are the pillars themselves; this pair of rubble stanchions left standing apart from their vanished past, a tacit gateway from nothing to nowhere. Western and near-eastern history is, of course, replete with examples of, and reference to, specific twin columns: from the Pillars of Hercules, or the Pillars of Zeus Lykaeos in Greaco-Roman mythology; to the Boaz and Jachin pillars of King Solomon's Temple, sacred in both Hebraic and Masonic tradition; to the dual obelisks which guard the Egyptian likes of Karnak, Luxor, and Heliopolis. Speaking more broadly, the gateway is a universal symbol of transition, rebirth, and rites of passage; found in instances too numerous to even hazard an inventory. This gate, however, leaves little room for passage today, tightly hemmed in as it is between the fence and a small offshoot of the creek. One wonders if this was not purposely done.

A little further along these lines, and a little further up this section of ravine, we now find a jumbled mass of ruins along the southwest side of the creek right before heading under Mount Pleasant Road where it divides Roxborough Street from Roxborough Drive. Here, amongst various bits of rubble scattered throughout the woods, lay three more rectangular concrete pillars — albeit, three of a rather different composition than the first pair, with each being around 5 and a half feet in length, 1 and a half feet in width, then divided into solid, smoothly cast facades at one end, and roughly pebbled aggregate facades at the other. One might presume a diminished gateway-type function for these fallen pillars as well; but a three-pillared gateway, it must be noted, is no ordinary gate, allowing for not just 2, but 6 possible directions of trespass, thus making for a truly higher dimensional threshold.

Roxborough ruins, 2012 and 2017

That said, we should also note that the pillar need not come in pairs (or triplets), nor even remain standing to hold symbolic significance, observing that the broken or fallen pillar is emblematic of various, often somber notions such as the decline or fall of an institution, a piece of work or business left unfinished, and, most commonly, the looming inevitability of death (the broken column being a common motif in grave-marking). To that end, we must recall that Mount Pleasant Road derives its name from the renowned cemetery which it bisects (and not vice versa as is commonly assumed). Indeed, it was purpose-built as an access to this historic necropolis which houses, perhaps, Toronto's most celebrated collection of curious headstones, extravagant tombs, and otherwise remarkable monuments. Furthermore, we again find a remote correlation beyond these shores in the famed Mount Pleasant Henge of Dorset, England; itself a neolithic burial site which, in time, lent its name to an entire period of British prehistory. No direct correlation, however, should be supposed between the names themselves as the cemetery dates from 1876, while the henge was only re-discovered (and re-titled) in 1936.

As for that name, we have in "Mount Pleasant" a common toponym duplicated throughout the English-speaking world, denoting any hill with an agreeable view or scenery — and, as such, something of an inverted correlate to the previous "Beaumont." Of some additional interest is the extended etymology of the word "pleasant" which, if we trace back through its Middle English, Old French, and Latin sources, we'll arrive at a hypothetical Proto-Indo-European root *pelh-, *plak-, or *p(e)laq- (depending on your PIE dictionary of choice), meaning "to be flat" (viz. flat > smooth > calm > placid > pleasant). So, in "Mount Pleasant" we are also left with something of a paradox or contradiction, that is to say a "flat mountain." We are then reminded of the contradictory nature of these pillars, both in relation to the still standing columns of Beaumont Road, and in relation to themselves, being at once half smooth and geometric, half raw and organic in shape.

As for "Roxborough," this is certainly a derivative of the Scottish Borders parish of Roxburgh, whose name we can trace from the genitive Old English (or Old Norse) given name of Hroc (or Hrokr) + the Old English burh meaning "fort" or "manor." If we delve further into the meaning of the first component we find "Hroc/Hrokr" to be descended from an ancient Germanic root pertaining to that European cousin of the crow or raven, otherwise known as a "rook." Here, too, we seem to be met with an established harbinger of death and ill omen, although such birds of the corvus genus have, at times, found themselves associated with more favourable traits like wisdom, prophesy, fertility, and long-life (note their connection with such mythic figures as Odin, Apollo, Athena, Mithra, Morrigan, and Brân; as well as many Christian saints such as Anthony, Ida, Benedict, Vincent, Oswald, and Paul the Hermit). If from here we were to take one step further into unproven hypothesis, and now link "rook" with the homonymical chess piece, we should have ourselves in "Roxborough" a doubling-up of the fortress image while strengthening ties to the "red king's fort" in Crothers Woods — but this is, perhaps for now, a step too far.