The words CLAUSUM OPACISSIMA SILVA are decisive. The phrase AB OCEANO MILIARIBUS DISTANS SEX, too, is taken from an earlier passage of the same author, quoted above, which passage may likewise have supplied the identical phrases OCEANO UNDIQUE CINCTUS, and the SPATIUM DUCENTORUM CUBITORUM, which are hardly applicable to St. Michael's Mount. The “two churches still existing in Mont St. Michel,” had to be left out, for there was no trace of them in St. Michael's Mount. But the monks who lived in them were retained, and to give a little more life, the wild beasts were added. Even the expression of antistes instead of episcopus occurs in the original, where we read, “Hæc loci facies erat ante sancti Michaelis apparitionem hoc anno factam religiosissimo Autberto Abrincatensi episcopo, admonentis se velle ut sibi in ejus montis vertice ecclesia sub ipsius patrocinio erigeretur. Hærenti ANTISTITI tertio idem intimatum,” etc.
Thus vanishes the testimony of William of Worcester, so often quoted by Cornish antiquarians, as to the dense forest by which St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall [pg 335] was once surrounded, and all the evidence that remains to substantiate the former presence of trees on and around the Cornish Mount is reduced to the name “the Hoar rock in the wood,” given by William, and the Cornish names of Cara clowse in Cowse or Cara Cowz in Clowze, given by Carew. How much or how little dependence can be placed on old Cornish names of places and their supposed meaning has been shown before in the case of Marazion. Carew certainly did not understand Cornish, nor did the people with whom he had intercourse; and there is no doubt that he wrote down the Cornish names as best he could, and without any attempt at deciphering their meaning. He was told that “Cara clowse in Cowse” meant the “Hoar rock in the Wood,” and he had no reason to doubt it. Even a very small knowledge of Cornish would have enabled Carew or anybody else at his time to find out that cowz might be meant for the Cornish word for wood, and that careg was rock. Clowse too might easily be taken in the sense of gray, as gray in Cornish was glos. Then why should we hesitate to accept Cara clowse in cowse as the ancient Cornish name of the Mount, and why object to Mr. Pengelly's argument that it must have been given at a time when the Mount was surrounded by a very dense forest, and that a fortiori at that distant period Cornish must have been the spoken language of Cornwall?
The first objection is that the old word for “wood” in Cornish was cuit with a final t, and that the change of a final t into z is a phonetic corruption which takes place only in the later stage of the Cornish language. The ancient Cornish cuit, “wood,” occurs in Welsh as coed, in Armorican as koat and koad, and is supposed to exist in Cornish names of places, such as Penquite, [pg 336] Kilquite, etc. Cowz, therefore, could not have occurred in a Cornish name supposed to have been formed at least 2,000 if not 20,000 years ago.
This thrust might, no doubt, be parried by saying that the name of the Mount would naturally change with the general changes of the Cornish language. Yet this is not always the case with proper names, as may be seen by the names just quoted, Penquite and Kilquite. At all events, we begin to see how uncertain is the ground on which we stand.
If we take the facts, scanty and uncertain as they are, we may admit that, at the time of William of Worcester, the Mount had most likely a Latin, a Cornish, and a Saxon appellation. It is curious that William should say nothing of a Cornish name, but only quote the Saxon one. However, this Saxon name, “the Hoar rock in the Wood” sounds decidedly like a translation, and is far too long and cumbrous for a current name. Michelstow is mentioned by others as the Saxon name of the Mount (Naveus, p. 233). The Latin name given to the Mount, but only after it had become a dependency of Mont St. Michel in Normandy, was, as we saw from William of Worcester's diary, Mons Tumba or Mons Tumba in Cornubia, and after his time the name of St. Michael in Tumbâ or in Monte Tumbâ is certainly used promiscuously for the Cornish and Norman mounts.[94] Now tumba, after [pg 337] meaning hillock, became the recognized name for tomb, and the mediæval Latin tumba, too, was always understood in that sense. If, therefore, the name “Mons in tumba” had to be rendered in Cornish for the benefit of the Cornish-speaking monks of the Benedictine priory, tumba would actually be taken in the sense of tomb. One form of the Cornish name, as preserved by Carew, is Cara cowz in clowze; and this, if interpreted without any preconceived opinion, would mean in Cornish “the old rock of the tomb.” Cara stands for carak, a rock. Cowz is meant for coz, the modern Cornish and Armorican form corresponding to the ancient Cornish coth, old.[95] Clowze is a modern and somewhat corrupt form in Cornish, corresponding to the Welsh clawdh, a tomb. Cladh-va, in Cornish, means a burying-place; and cluddu, to bury, has been preserved as a Cornish verb, corresponding to the Welsh cladhu. In Gaelic, too, cladh is a tomb or burying-place; and in Armorican, which generally follows the same phonetic changes as the Cornish, we actually find kleuz and klôz for tomb or inclosure. (See Le Gonidec, “Dict. Breton-Français,” s. v.) The en might either be the Cornish preposition yn, or it may have been intended for the article in the genitive, an. The old rock in the tomb, i.e. in tumbâ, or the old rock of the tomb, Cornish carag goz an cloz, would be intelligible and natural renderings of the Latin Mons in tumba.
But though this would fully account for the origin of the Cornish name as preserved by Carew, it would still leave the Saxon appellation the “Hore rock in the wodd” unexplained. How could William of Worcester [pg 338] have got hold of this name? Let us remember that William does not mention any Cornish name of the Mount, and that nothing is ever said at his time of the “Hore rock in the wodd” being a translation of an old Cornish name. All we know is that the monks of the Mount used that name, and it is hardly likely that so long and cumbrous a name should ever have been used much by the people in the neighborhood. How the monks of St. Michael's Mount came to call their place the “Hore rock in the wodd” at the time of William of Worcester, and probably long before his time, is, however, not difficult to explain, after we have seen how they transferred the traditions which originally referred to Mont St. Michel to their own monastery. Having told the story of the “sylva opacissima” by which their mount was formerly surrounded to many visitors, as they told it to William of Worcester, the name of the “Hore rock in the wodd” might easily spring up among them, and be kept up within the walls of their priory. Nor is there any evidence that in this peculiar form the name ever spread beyond their walls. But it is possible that here, too, language may have played some tricks. The number of people who used these names and kept them alive can never have been large, and hence they were exposed much more to accidents arising from ignorance and individual caprice than names of villages or towns which are in the keeping of hundreds and thousands of people. The monks of St. Michael's Mount may in time have forgotten the exact purport of “Cara cowz in clowze,” “the old rock of the tomb,” really the “Mons in tumba;” and their minds being full of the old forest by which they believed their island, like Mont St. Michel, to have been formerly surrounded, [pg 339] what wonder if cara cowz in clowze glided away into cara clowse in cowze, and thus came to confirm the old tradition of the forest. For cowz would at once be taken as the modern Cornish word for wood, corresponding to the old Cornish cuit, while clowse might, with a little effort, be identified with the Cornish glos, gray, the Armorican glâz. Carew, it should be observed, sanctions both forms, the original one, cara cowz in clowze, “the old rock of the tomb,” and the other cara clowse in cowze, meaning possibly “the gray rock in the wood.” The sound of the two is so like that, particularly to the people not very familiar with the language, the substitution of one for the other would come very naturally; and as a reason could more easily be given for the latter than for the former name, we need not be surprised if in the few passages where the name occurs after Carew's time, the secondary name, apparently confirming the monkish legend of the dense forest that once surrounded St. Michael's Mount, should have been selected in preference to the former, which, but to a scholar and an antiquarian, sounded vague and meaningless.
If my object had been to establish any new historical fact, or to support any novel theory, I should not have indulged so freely in what to a certain extent may be called mere conjecture. But my object was only to point out the uncertainty of the evidence which Mr. Pengelly has adduced in support of a theory which would completely revolutionize our received views as to the early history of language and the migrations of the Aryan race. At first sight the argument used by Mr. Pengelly seems unanswerable. Here is St. Michael's Mount, which, according to geological evidence, may formerly have been part [pg 340] of the mainland. Here is an old Cornish name for St. Michael's Mount, which means “the gray rock in the wood.” Such a name, it might well be argued, could not have been given to the island after it had ceased to be a gray rock in the wood; therefore it must have been given previous to the date which geological chronology fixes for the insulation of St. Michael's Mount. That date varies from 16,000 to 20,000 years ago. And as the name is Cornish, it follows that Cornish-speaking people must have lived in Cornwall at that early geological period.
Nothing, as I said, could sound more plausible; but before we yield to the argument, we must surely ask, Is there no other way of explaining the names Cara cowz in clowze and Cara clowse in cowze? And here we find—
(1.) That the legend of the dense forest by which the Mount was believed to have been surrounded existed, so far as we know, before the earliest occurrence of the Cornish name, and that it owes its origin entirely to a mistake which can be accounted for by documentary evidence. A legend told of Mont St. Michel had been transferred ipsissimis verbis to St. Michael's Mount, and the monks of that priory repeated the story which they found in their chronicle to all who came to visit their establishment in Cornwall. They told the name, among others, to William of Worcester, and to prevent any incredulity on his part, they gave him chapter and verse from their chronicle, which he carefully jotted down in his diary.[96]
(2.) We find that when the Cornish name first occurs, it lends itself, in one form, to a very natural interpretation, which does not give the meaning of “Hore rock in the wodd,” but shows the name Cara cowz in clowze to have been a literal rendering of the Latin name “Mons in tumba,” originally the name of Mont St. Michel, but at an early date applied in charters to St. Michael's Mount.