John Maidment's Blog

Marazion Marsh

Hal is a Cornish place-name element which causes considerable confusion. It is often ‘translated’ as “moor”, giving the impression of an upland area, but actually the Cornish for “moor” in this sense is gûn or rôs. What hal actually means is “marsh” — a low-lying, wet tract of ground. Unfortunately, these places are often called “moors” in Cornish English.

The other problem with this element is that it turns up with the spelling <hale> in some place-names, as does the element hayl/heyl, which means “estuary”. For example, the name Penhale (there are two places with this name in this area) could mean either “the end of the marsh” or “the end of the estuary”.

Just to make things even more confusing, some names which appear to contain hal in fact contain hel, which means “hall”. An example is Halwyn not far from here. This means “white hall” and not “white marsh”.
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Photo credit: Ennor, Creative Commons Share Alike Licence

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A couple of days ago a trip to Glendurgan near Falmouth. It is a subtropical valley garden. We went there to meet up with my nephew, his wife and two sons. Sam (aged 3) and Joseph (aged 5). The garden was first laid out in the 1820s and 1830s by Alfred Fox and was handed over to the National Trust in 1962.

One of the attractions of the garden is a cherry yew maze and another is the small hamlet of Durgan at the bottom of the valley which looks onto a small beach on the Helford River.

To the left you can see Sam’s preferred method of travel on the way to the beach. A jolly time was had by all and at the end of the visit at ice-cream o’clock Joseph expressed the opinion that the National Trust was very lucky to live in such a nice place.

The name of the village, Durgan, derives from Cornish Dowrgeun which means “otter water”. There is another valley garden called Trebah (meaning uncertain) just a mile or so to the west. You can see it on the satellite image at the top of the post.

Illiswilgig

There are lots of charming and/or peculiar place-names on the Isles of Scilly. How about Illiswilgig? This was recorded in 1584 as Inniswelsick, meaning “grassy island”. An even odder one is Izzicumpucca. Apparently this was originally Islonk an Bucca, meaning “the Bucca’s chasm”. A Bucca is a Cornish imp. A couple which always seem to me as if they ought to be somewhere in the Mediterranean are Minalto and Mincarlo. In both cases the first element is Cornish mên – “stone”. In the first name the second element is altow, meaning “cliffs, and in the second name it is carlyth, meaning “rayfish”.
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Photo credit: © Copyright David Lally and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

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The Logan Rock

The village of Treen in St. Levan parish, just across the bay from Porthcurno, boasts a pub, a few houses and not much else. However, a short walk south from the village brings you to the coast and a quite magnificent headland. This is the site of the Logan [ˈlɒɡən] Rock. You can see it on the upper right in the picture. It is granite, weighs about 80 tons and its name derives from an English dialect word log meaning “to rock to and fro, to oscillate”. Indeed, at one time apparently it could be made to rock with the pressure of one finger applied at the right point.

In 1824 a bunch of sailors, led by a Lieutenant Goldsmith (nephew of Oliver Goldsmith, the poet), took it into their heads to dislodge the rock, possibly in response to local claims that this could never be done. They succeeded and the locals were furious, not least because the rock was a well-known attraction and the local economy benefited greatly from tourists coming to see it. There were calls for Goldsmith to be thrown out of the navy, unless he replaced the rock at his own expense. The Royal Navy stumped up £25 and lent Goldsmith equipment. Eventually, after months of toil, the rock was replaced at a total cost of £130 8s 6d. The original receipt can still be seen in the pub in Treen.

Although the rock doesn’t log as it used to, some claim it can be made to move, if you know how.

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Photo credit: Jim Champion, GNU Free Documentation Licence

Following on from yesterday’s post about Lafrowda and the somewhat fanciful etymology proposed for the name, today’s topic is the tiny hamlet of Trevegean, which is not far from St. Just. The name has the rather unexpected pronunciation [trevəˈdʒɪən]. It appears in the records in 1297 as Trevegyon. The name means “chaff farm”. The Revived Kernewek Kemmyn word meaning “chaff” is us [yːz], which is a collective noun. The ‘singulative’ is usenn [ˈyzen]. In West Cornwall [z], when followed by a front highish vowel or [j], often got replaced by [dʒ].

The fanciful explanation of the name is “farm of the giant” or even “farm of the giant’s grave”. The story goes that in the 17th century the bones of an enormous person were found in an underground chamber near the hamlet. His arms, they said, were so long that, when he was alive, he could pluck sailors off the decks of ships passing Land’s End and plonk them on the rocks where Longships lighthouse now stands. Why he thought this was a good idea I do not know. He did all sorts of other horrible things, like cooking children in a cauldron and eating them. The Cornish have always seemed inordinately fond of stories about giants — both good and bad.