Thus many of our early saints took refuge here, from the persecutions, to which the Christian faith was exposed
in Ireland; and their history has been chiefly sought in the hagiographies of that country. But the greater number of them, on coming into Cornwall, complied with this custom, common, indeed, with all men at that time, of changing the name with the residence; and accordingly, instead of that, by which they had been formerly known, and might have been recorded, they adopted or received another, as choice or accident determined their settlement. Hence we have St. Hy, or St. Iä, the Island-saint; St. Uny, (or perhaps more correctly St. Unan) the Down-saint; St. Dennis, the Hill-saint; St. Allan, the Moor-saint.
But not only have these, and similar appellations, been erroneously regarded as the baptismal and proper names of the saints, whom they commemorate; but the accidental corruption of some of them has led to still greater mistakes; and from the mere coincidence of sound, the saint whose memory was to be preserved, has been identified with some other person, for whom that honour could not have been intended. Thus the town of St. I’s, or with the genitive at full length, as it was commonly written, St. Ies, has for many generations been called St. Ives, though the correct form was frequently used till the close of the seventeenth century. In consequence of this corruption, the place has been said to have derived its name from some bishop Ivo, either the Persian, who gave his name to St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire, or the celebrated Ivo, bishop of Chartres. But St. I was a female from Ireland.
The case of St. Dennis seems to be of the same kind; though in that instance the error is not owing to a corruption of the name, but to the similarity of the sound. St. Dennis signifies the Saint on the Hill, or more strictly, the Hill-saint; and the church stands at this day on the summit of a hill. But the good man, who lived there, has been considered the same person as St. Dionysius, or St. Dennis, the areopagite.
I cannot help suspecting, that some error of this sort has occurred in the case of Paul-parish near Penzance, which is reported to have taken its name from St. Paul de Leon. Now that portion of the Mount’s bay, by which this parish is bounded on the east, is called The Lake; and this lake, which might have been correctly so denominated in ancient times, is at the foot of the hill, on which the present church stands; and it is, therefore,
probable that some man of eminent piety once resided near it. In that case, he was called the Lake-saint, which rendered into Cornish, becomes St. Pol. For this reason, I believe that the common account is wholly untrue; and that, as in many other instances, the name of the saint, and through him, of the parish, originated entirely in a local accident.
I may state here, that some parishes have a popular name, arising not unfrequently from very trifling circumstances; and this name has, in some cases, entirely superseded the more legitimate denomination, under which the church was consecrated and registered. Thus, to give one example, the parish at the Lizard is called Landuwednac, which signifies the Black-and-white-church. This appellation was suggested by the peculiar appearance of the church and tower, which are built of black and white stones, arranged alternately, in the manner of a chessboard.
Amongst the names of our Cornish towns, there are three remarkable above the rest for having been very diligently examined, and very little understood. Upon these it may be proper to make a few observations.
Of Truro Tonkin says, that ‘it is so called from its three principal streets; for Tri, three, and Ru, a street, have been turned to Truro merely euphoniæ gratia.’ Tonkin ought to have suspected, that Tri, occurring as the first syllable in the name of a town, was not likely to mean three, because Tri or Tre signifies a dwelling place, or an assemblage of dwellings, and therefore, a town. He might have supposed too, that the place was called Truro, before its three principal streets were built, or designed; since it does not appear to have ever had any other name, and we cannot believe, that it was so denominated by anticipation. For in those rude times, towns were not commonly laid out upon a definite plan: but the houses were erected according to the taste or convenience of the builders; and the streets seem to have been formed, almost as accident might determine.
But Whitaker says, that Tonkin’s etymology, which was adopted from Camden, is altogether absurd; and he consequently undertakes to find a better. For this purpose he assumes, that Truro takes its name from its castle. Now he imagines, that the castle was denominated Trevereu, and that the name was subsequently familiarized to Treuro. In that way, he thinks, the etymon at once presents