Showing posts with label scarborough. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scarborough. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Scarborough's 700 Year-Old Burial Mound


This is an ancient, sacred place. It's a hill in Scarborough, about 700 years old, with nearly 500 people buried inside it. It's near Lawrence & Bellamy, a few storeys high, looking out over bungalows for miles in all directions. It was made sometime around the years 1250-1300 as a burial mound by the Wendat (who the Europeans called the Huron) during a Feast of the Dead. The Feasts were held every time a village moved to a new location — every 10-15 years or so, at the end of the winter. Those who had been buried during that time were dug up for the 10-day Feast before having their bones cleaned and then re-buried in a communal grave like this one. Today, we call it Tabor Hill and it's one of the most remarkable places in Toronto.



 

A version of this story will appear in
The Toronto Book of the Dead
Coming September 2017

Pre-order from Amazon, Indigo, or your favourite bookseller

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Toronto's Secret Viking Heritage

UK TOUR DAY TWO (LONDON): This is the Cuerdale hoard. It's a stash of Viking silver that was originally buried in the early 900s. It was discovered in Lancashire back in the 1840s and it's bigger than any Viking horde ever discovered in Scandinavia. Today, I went to check it out in the British Museum. Which makes this the perfect time to tell you the story of Toronto's secret Viking heritage.

The Vikings, of course, aren't exactly the first people who leap to mind when you think of Toronto's heritage. After all, we're a city founded by the British in territory previously claimed by the French on the ancestral lands of the First Nations. And while many people from Scandinavia have called Toronto home, immigration from the northern reaches of Europe has generally been dwarfed by immigration from other parts of the world.

Today, for instance, in a metropolitan census area of 5.5 million people, only 70 of them say that Norwegian is the language they speak most often at home. That's compared to more than 300,000 who use Chinese languages. In fact, no Scandinavian language comes anywhere close to breaking into the top 50. More Torontonians speak Tigrigna or Marathi or Ilocano.

But if you know where to look, the linguistic traces of a distant Viking past are all around you. You can find them in the names of our streets, our neighbourhoods, our libraries, our schools... In words we use every day. And for the most part, that's thanks to events that happened more than a thousand years ago many thousands of kilometers away. When the Vikings invaded the British Isles.

It all started in the late 700s with bloody raids along the coast. Unprotected British monasteries were a tempting target. And all the Vikings had to do was to sail across the North Sea — only about the same distance as between Toronto and Montreal. By the end of the 800s, they'd launched a full-scale invasion and conquered a huge chunk of the island. Their new territory stretched all the way across the north-east of what's now England. Historians call it the Danelaw. The Norse ruled the land for about 200 years. And that meant waves of new Viking immigration.

While they were there, of course, they named things. Lots of things. Cities and towns and rivers and fields and farms.... Even a thousand years later, when you look at a map of England, you can see their linguistic legacy. It's all over the former Danelaw. In the north and the east of England, the names of places are still full of Old Norse.

And when the British came to Canada, they brought some of those names with them. The British renamed places they found in Toronto — just like the Vikings had done in Britain. So today's modern city — more than 2,000 kilometers away from the closest evidence of Viking settlement — is still full of traces of the days when the Vikings ruled much of England.

So take, for instance, Burnhamthorpe Road, which runs through parts of Etobicoke and Mississauga. It got its name from the settler John Ableton all the way back in the 1860s. He suggested it because Burnham Thorpe was the name of his hometown back in England. It had been part of the Danelaw. And the name originally came from those ancient Viking days — it's one of dozens upon dozens of places in the former Danelaw that still end in -thorpe, which was the Old Norse word for "village" or "farmstead".

The same goes for places that end in -holme. Like Glenholme Avenue near St. Clair West (which, while we're at it, isn't far from tiny Grimthorpe Road — the Viking name "Grim" with the Viking suffix "thorpe".). "Holme" was an Old Norse word for "island". So it's not a coincidence that there are places in Sweden with names like Stockholm, Hässleholm and Ängelholm — or Horsholm in Denmark.

In some cases, the "holme" suffix has evolved over the centuries, turning into the ending "ham". That's what happened to one ancient town near Manchester: Aldehulme eventually became Oldham. And Oldham, in turn, eventually turned up as the name of a road in Etobicoke.

Anglo-Saxon helmet at the British Museum
It's a bit confusing, though, because sometimes "ham" doesn't come from Old Norse at all — sometimes it comes from the Old English word for "homestead". And a lot of the examples are more complicated like that. The Old English of the Anglo-Saxons (who ruled much of England at the same time the Vikings did) shared the same linguistic roots with Old Norse — some of the words are so similar that it's not entirely clear which one is responsible for the modern version. In some cases, it's probably both. For instance, they both used a word like "dale" to refer to valleys. And a thousand years later, we do too. Neighbourhoods like Riverdale, Rosedale, Willowdale and Bendale all echo the Vikings and the Anglo-Saxons.

Sometimes, their words got mashed together, too. So, for instance, to name one city in the Danelaw, they took the Old English word for hill — "dun" — and then added the Old Norse ending "holme". Over the years, "Dun Holme" gradually morphed into "Durham". Today, that's what the city and the county are both called. And when Upper Canada's first Lieutenant Governor, John Graves Simcoe, was looking for names for the new counties he was creating in Canada, he chose to name them after counties back home in England. Including Durham. So a thousand years after the Vikings first named their city "Dun Holme", we still call the land to the east of Toronto "Durham Region".

Durham Region, in turn, is home to Whitby — which has another Old Norse suffix: "by", which was the Viking word for "settlement".

And some examples are even more clear-cut.

Sometime back around the year 1000, the Vikings are thought to have established a new trading post on the coast of Wales. They named it after their King — Sweyn Forkbeard — who may even have founded the city himself. They added on an Old Norse suffix — "ey" for "island" or "inlet" — so the name of the city was essentially the Viking word for "Sven's Island". Over the next few centuries, it became "Sweynesse", "Sweyneshe", "Sweyse" and, eventually, "Swansea". And more than 800 years after the death of King Forkbeard, a man from Swansea moved to Toronto. He purchased the local bolt works company and renamed the business after his hometown. Eventually, the name was used to describe the whole area. Today, we still call the neighbourhood to the west of High Park "Swansea" in honour of a Viking King most of us have never even heard of.

But the most striking example might be this one:

According to one of the ancient Icelandic Sagas, there was once a Viking raider and poet by the name of Thorgils Skarthi The Hare-Lipped. Around the year 966, he decided to move across the North Sea for good and establish a new settlement on a habour near the towering limestone cliffs of the north-east coast of England. He named the new town after himself, calling it Skarthi's stronghold: Skarðaborg. He was eventually driven out by the Anglo-Saxons and the new town was burned down. But when it was rebuilt years later, the name stuck.

Centuries after that, when Governor Simcoe came to Toronto to build his own stronghold on the harbour he found here, his wife came with him. Elizabeth Simcoe was struck by the beauty of this place — including the towering white bluffs to the east of the new town. They reminded her of the same limestone cliffs where Thorgils Skarthi The Hare-Lipped had once built his stronghold. So she christened the bluffs here with the modern version of the same word he used in England. That was the same word we still use to describe the vast expanse of land above those bluffs — the whole eastern half of our city.

Scarborough. Skarðaborg. Skarthi's Viking stronghold.

-----

Read more posts about The Toronto Dreams Project's UK Tour and the connections between the history of Toronto and the United Kingdom here. I'll be posting lots more during the trip! And you can follow me on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook too

You can read more about Skarthi here. And their are some sites about Viking linguistic stuff here and here and here. There's an interactive map tracing their Viking place names in England here.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

A Trip to the Scarborough Bluffs

I spent my Victoria Day out in Scarborough, walking along the bluffs. It was the first time I'd really taken the time to explore out there (I'd been to one outlook a few years ago, but that's all). And, as you might expect, it turns out that the Scarborough Bluffs are totally spectacular — the whole day felt like I was alone in a world a long long way from the biggest city in Canada.

My walk took me along the base of the bluffs on the curently-under-construction Doris McCarthy trail (named after the Torontonian artist who studied with the Group of 7's Arthur Lismer) before I headed up to catch the spectacular views from Cathedral Bluffs Park and back down to finish my day on the beach at Bluffer's Park just in time for some fireworks.

I've posted all of my Instagram photos from the day on Facebook. You can check them out here. And, as always, you can follow me on Instagram at @todreamsproject.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Scarborough Bluffs Looking Like They Belong In A John Ford Film

I can't seem to find any information about this photo online — like, say, when it was taken — but I like it so I'm posting it anyway. It almost looks like a shot of Monument Valley, where John Ford shot his iconic Westerns, but this is, of course, our very own Scarborough Bluffs. They were apparently originally formed thousands of years ago as part the shoreline of the ancient Lake Iroquois, the giant lake left behind when the last Ice Age ended and the enormofuckingus glacier that used to cover this land melted away. (The big hill that runs through Toronto just north of Davenport Road was also part of that shoreline.) The cliffs been gradually moving north as they erode away, and the sand that gets washed off them is what formed the Toronto Islands (which were nothing more than a sandy peninsula when our city was founded — before they got separated from the mainland by a storm and then enlarged artificially).

There are some cliffs that look a little like this on the northeast coast of England, at Scarborough, which is why Elizabeth Simcoe,  the wife of the guy who founded Toronto, named our cliffs Scarborough, too. The name obviously stuck. And ended up being used not just for the Bluffs, but for the entire east-end suburb that was eventually swallowed up by the Megacity.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Photo: Scaling The Bluffs in 1909

I don't have much to say about this one, since the awesomeness kind of speaks for itself. Here are two people who have climbed to the tip of an outcrop at the Scarborough bluffs, in dress shirts and ties, in 1909. It's from one of the more helpful books I've come across, Toronto: An Illustrated History Of Its First 12,000 Years, which you can see more photos from here and buy here.