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ST. MICHAEL’S MOUNT
It is of little consequence to consider when and by whom the suggestion was first put forward, but it was one which captivated all who were anxious to endow their native county with a unique distinction. The suggestion was that St. Michael’s Mount was identical with the island of Ictis, mentioned by Diodorus Siculus about the beginning of the first century before the Christian era.
Assuming the truth of this hypothesis, for which, indeed, many cogent arguments could be urged, historical writers were enabled to make a better start in the case of Cornwall than in the case of any other English county.
It is therefore somewhat disquieting to find a distinguished geologist staking a great reputation upon a counter-theory which, though promulged so recently as the year 1905, has at the present moment the support of the majority of those who are competent to form a judgment of its scientific value. Mr. Clement Reid, F.R.S., basing his arguments upon the evidence of geology and physical geography, has been able to show[[112]] that, nineteen hundred years ago, the Isle of Wight was, at high water, an island and, at low water, a peninsula answering exactly to the description of the island of Ictis given by Diodorus, whereas St. Michael’s Mount was at that time “an isolated rock rising out of a swampy wood.” On the other hand, however, it is only fair to say that Prof. Oman, who has doubtless examined and weighed, with his accustomed acumen, Mr. Reid’s reasoning and conclusions, remains unconvinced. The Rev. H. R. Coulthard has broached a new theory, which has perhaps not yet received the attention it deserves; it is that Ictis was the entire peninsula of Western Penwith. As against this, there is the evidence of Pliny who, on the authority of Timæus, states that the island of Mictis, apparently only another form of Ictis, was distant six days’ sail along the British coast, a statement which is as fatal to the claims of Penwith as to those of the Mount itself.
The question can hardly be said to be finally decided, but the prevailing opinion is in favour of the Isle of Wight.
The Mount has had several names. In the life of St. Cadoc[[113]] it is called Dinsul, which probably means the citadel of the sun.
St. Cadoc is said to have visited his aunt St. Keyne there, and to have miraculously provided the Mount with a supply of water.
By the Cornish it was called Careg Cowse, or Karrek-luz-en-Kuz, which William of Worcester correctly translates “Hoar Rock in the Wood.” It would be interesting to discover earlier evidence of this name. Its survival in the fifteenth century[[114]]—in spite of the monastic and military occupation of the Mount for many centuries—is very remarkable and seems to carry us back to the time when Mr. Reid’s description was exactly realised.
At some period, very difficult to determine, the Mount became known as Mons Tumba.[[115]] A charter in the Otterton custumal recording the reconstitution of St. Michael’s priory, in the reigns of Henry I, and Stephen, enjoins that the Cornish monks shall receive the blessing of their abbot at Monte Tumba unless, perchance, it shall please him to come into Cornwall and bless them there; from which it may be inferred that the religious house in Monte Tumba was at that time identified with Mont St. Michel in Normandy, although the latter was then, at an earlier date and long afterwards, commonly described as St. Michael in Periculo Maris.[[116]] When dealing with the medley of notes collected by William of Worcester it will be necessary to bear this in mind.
The Mount was associated with St. Michael before the Norman Conquest, in all probability before the Saxon invasion of Cornwall.