The last class of names that have had any influence upon European nomenclature are those borne by the Slavonic race dwelling to the eastward of the Teutons, and scarcely coming into notice before the period of modern history.
Nor, indeed, have they been ever very prominent. Slipping into the regions left empty by the Teutons, or depopulated by the forays of the Tatars, these nations have carried on a life for the most part obscure and industrious, though now and then drawn, either by Mongol fury on the one hand, or by Teuton ambition on the other, into gallant exertions; but a genuine Slavonian has seldom or never extended his power far beyond his own country. Imaginative and poetical, they have nevertheless few ancestral traditions, they have no history previously to coming under the influence of other countries, and their migrations are even less known than those of the early Kelts and Teutons.
All that we do know is that by the time the ten horns of modern empire were developing themselves, there was a long strip of Slavonians, or Wends, extending from the White and Baltic seas down to the Black and Adriatic, making a division between the Teutons and the Tatars, but utterly unable to oppose a barrier when periodical fits of fury and invasion seized upon the wild hordes to the eastward of them.
Wends, or Venedi, seems to have been one universal national term; Slava furnished another. The word, like the Greek κλύα and Teuton hlod, is from the root çru, and denotes fame or glory; and it is constantly employed in the personal names, commencing Slavoljub, glorious love, Slavomir, glorious peace, Slavomil, friend of glory, and terminating Siroslav, far-famed, and many others, usually rendered as slas and slaus.
But just as Geta, the Goth, stood for a bondsman in classical literature, so when the Slav became the captive of the German, his once glorious epithet became the generic term of the thrall, bought and sold, while the derivatives of the Latin servus were reserved for the free hired domestic. Glory had literally turned to slavery, perhaps the more readily because it is the Slav who, of all the Indo-European race, most readily bows beneath the yoke, so that to this day, his forms of courtesy are the most servile, his respectful address the most extravagant, used in Europe.
At our first glimpse of the Slavonic nations, the Danube flowed through the midst of a considerable settlement of them, known to classical writers as Bulgarians, and most savage foes to the Eastern empire, who lost army after army in expeditions against these barbarians.
In the North, two great merchant republics at Kief and Novgorod were conducting the trade of the North, and apparently living an honourable life of industry and self-government.
All around the east and south of the Baltic were other large territories occupied by Slavonians, from Finland to Jutland; and, with few exceptions, most of these lands still own a Slavonian population, though only one has a native government.
The Mongols have, perhaps, chiefly influenced the changes undergone by the Slaves. The great and terrible Tatar invasion of Attila trod them down, but by ruining the Roman empire, established homes for them, especially round the Danube. In the kingdom now called Hungary, there is a large Slavonian population, called Slovak, from the term slov, a word, living mixed with the remains of the Huns, but keeping a separate language.
The mountain-girt lozenge of Bohemia was also a separate kingdom, with its own language, not the same, though nearly related, and more resembling that of the fierce elective kingdom of Poland.
The migrations of the Teutons drove most of the Wends out of Denmark into the marshy and sandy lands at the mouth of the Vistula; and, somewhat later, home quarrels, and fears of the Tatars, impelled the republics of Russia to call in the aid of the Northmen, who quickly put an end to the freedom of the cities, and set up the principality that was the germ of the Russian empire.
The Greek Church converted the Bulgarians about the year 870, and the translations of the liturgy and Scriptures, made for their benefit, have been the authorized version of the Slavonians ever since. The same missionaries, Cyrillus and Methodius, likewise baptized the first Christian king of Bohemia; and in the next century, a Bohemian bishop, Adalbert of Prague, converted Hungary and Poland. But these three realms gave their allegiance to the Western, not the Eastern Church; and though Hungary received much of her civilization from Constantinople, her faith was with Rome. The Norse Grand Princes of Muscovy themselves sought Christianity from Byzantium, and the Russian Church has ever since been the most earnest and conservative of the Eastern Churches.
The Baltic Slavonians held out longest against the Gospel. Missionaries preached to them, and orders of knighthood crusaded against them on far into modern history, and the final period of their conversion and settlement into small duchies or realms, held by the conquering knights, is hardly worth tracing out.
The next step in general Slavonic history is the great Turkish outbreak, which almost crushed Muscovy, and infused a strong Tatar element into the Russian population; and, finally, conquered the Greek empire, and with it the Bulgarian lands, which, though never Mahometanized, have ever since remained under Turkish dominion.
The kingdoms of Bohemia and Hungary, with the other western Slavonic provinces, were one by one absorbed into the German empire, or by the House of Austria—it made little difference which was the original tenure—all are ‘Austrian’ now, whether willingly or not.
With the same skill, the House of Brandenburg obtained the domains of the Baltic Slaves, and formed the kingdom of Prussia, very Teutonic to the west, and very Slavonic to the east.
Meantime, after a long period of exhaustion, almost of extinction, the Muscovites came forth from the Tatar oppression stronger than ever; and by gradual conquests from their former enemies, at length formed their huge empire of the east.
And Poland, after many a turbulent election, many a summons to German princes to hold the reins of its restless multitude, was finally and unrighteously dismembered and divided, and the cry of its wrongs has ever since rent the ears of Europe.
The existing Slavonian languages are the Russian, the literary language of the great empire; the Livonian, or the language spoken by the persons who are not of Finnish blood in the elbow beneath the Gulf of Finland; the Lettish and Lusatian, used by the old Prussian subjects and their neighbours in Russia; the Polish; the Slovak, spoken in Hungary; the Servian, Illyrian, and Croatian, all representing the old Bulgarian.
Of all these, it is perhaps the Polish that has contributed the most names to the European stock, and they are but few; but there were intermarriages, and friendly intercourse, besides occasional elections to the Polish throne; and, latterly, the dispersion and exile of the Polish nobility carried their names into distant parts of Europe, and gave them a romantic interest.
Bohemia and Hungary sent a few names into the Austrian line, but they soon died out; and Russia uses comparatively few native Slavonic names, but makes chief use of those of the saints of the Greek Church.
Slavonian languages are said to be soft in their own speech, but our letters clumsily render their sounds, and make them of cumbrous length; and the few names that have been adopted have been severely mangled.
They are, for the most part, grand and poetical compounds, often exactly corresponding to Greek or Teutonic names, and with others more poetical than those in either of these other languages, such as Danica, the Morning star; Zwezdana, or in Russian, Swetlana, a Star; Zora, Zorana, Zorica, the Slovak Aurora; and Zorislava, the Dawn of glory; Golubica, the Dove; Lala, the Tulip. The Slaves use likewise the amaranth, or everlasting flower, as a name both for men and women, namely, Smiljan and Smiljana; and while a man may be called Dubislav, or Oak fame, the Servians and Illyrians call their daughters after fruits,—Grozdana, Rich in grapes; Jagoda, the Strawberry; and Kupina, or Kupiena, the Gooseberry.[149]
149. Kombst, (in Johnson’s) Physical Atlas; Max Muller, Lectures; Le Beau, Bas Empire; Schleicher, Sprachen Europen; Zeuss, Deutschen und die Nachbar Stamme.
The Slavonians had a polytheistic religion, answering, in spirit, to that of the other Indo-European nations; but as they had no mythic literature, like Greece and Scandinavia, we are dependent for information upon popular ballads and superstitions, eked out by the notices of missionaries and statements of conquerors; and it is not easy to perceive whether their myths were an independent branch of the general stock, or only the Teutonic religion under another dress.
The divine word, in all the various nations, is Bog. It was used for God, both in the old heathen times, and afterwards in its full sense, when Christianity became known to them. It enters into numerous names, both before and after Christianity. The most noted is Bogislav, or God’s glory, which was borne by many a Pole and old Prussian; and, in 1627, it finished off the old Slavonic line of dukes of Pomerania, from whom that state came to the acquisitive house of Brandenburg. The historical Latinism of the name is Bogislaus; and it is still current in Illyria as Bogosav.
Theophilus is literally translated by Bogoljub or Bogoje in Illyria, and Bohumil in Bohemia. This makes it probable that Robert Guiscard thence took the name of his eldest son, Bohemond, giving it a Norman termination. The mother is called Alvareda, and she is said to have been divorced on the score of consanguinity; but it is not improbable that this was a mere excuse of the wily duke of Calabria for ridding himself of an Illyrian wife. Bohemond is said to have been called after a giant of romance; but the giant has not as yet transpired, and may have been, after all, a Slavonic divinity. Bohemond, or Boemondo, as Tasso calls him, was the Ulysses of the first Crusade, and left a grandson namesake.
Theodorus and Theodora are answered by Bogdan and Bogdana, both spelt with h in Bohemia—Bohdan, Bohdana, and in Illyria Bozidar, Bozidara; and, as has been already said, the Divine birth-night, Christmas, is commemorated by Slovak children being called Bozo. Bogohval is Thank God, Bogoboj, God’s battle, all names in use in Poland and the kindred nations before the general names of Europe displaced the native growth.
The word does not answer to either Deus or God, but is related to the Sanscrit bhagas, destiny.
The word ljube, Love, is rather a favourite in the affectionate Slavonic nomenclature. At the outset of Bohemian history we come on the beautiful legend of Queen Libussa, or the darling. She succeeded her father in 618, governed alone for fourteen years, then, finding her people discontented, sought the wisest man in her domains for a husband, and found him, like Cincinnatus, at the plough, when he not only retained his homely cloak, iron table, and bark sandals, as marks of his origin, but bade them be produced at all future royal elections. His name, Przemysl, or the thoughtful, was continued in his line, though chroniclers cut its dreadful knot of consonants by calling it Premislaus and the next ensuing namesake Germanized himself as Ottokar. He was afterwards elected king of Poland, where the name was used, with the feminine Przemyslava.
Russia has the feminine Ljubov, Love, fondly termed Lubuika, and, in families where French is spoken, called Aimée, though this more properly translates Ljubka and Ljubnia. The Slovaks have Ljuboslav and its feminine, and the Polish Lubomirsky is Peace-loving. The Russian Ljubov is chiefly used in allusion to the Christian grace of love; and Faith, or Vjera, and Hope, Nadezna, are both, likewise, very popular at the present day, the latter usually Frenchified into Nadine; while the Serbs have Nada, or Nadan.
The Slaves of Rugen had a terrible deity called Sviatovid, or the luminous, who was considered to answer to Mars, or Tyr, and had a temple at Acron, and an image with seven heads, which must have much resembled Indian idols. A white horse was sacred to him, and was supposed to be ridden by him during the night, and to communicate auguries by the manner in which it leaped over lances that were arranged in its path. Human sacrifices were offered to this deity both in Rugen and Bohemia; and when his image was at length overthrown, St. Vitus, from the resemblance of sound, was confounded with him by the populace, and Svantovit, as they called both alike, was still the tutelary genius of the place. Svetozor, Dawn of light, and Svetlana, a Russian lady’s name still in use, are connected with light, the first syllable of his name.
Conjoined with Sviatovid, and lying on a purple bed in the temple in Rugen, was the seven-headed Rugevid, or Ranovid (whose name is explained by reference to the Sanscrit rana, blood-thirsty); and likewise Radegost, the god of hospitality, from rad, prosperous, and gose, a guest, the word so often encountered. Several names began with the first syllable—Rada, Radak, Radan, Radinko, Radmir, Radivoj, Radko, Radman, Radmil, Radoje, Radoslav; and the Illyrians have the hospitable name of Gostomil, or Guest love: indeed, gost forms the end of many Slavonic names, in accordance with the ready and courteous welcome always offered by this people.
Davor is another war god, whose name seems of very near kindred to Mavors, or Mars, and who left Davorinn, Davroslav, and Davroslava, as names.
Tikla was the old Slavonic goddess of good luck, and, being confounded with St. Thekla, made this latter name popular in Poland, Russia, and Hungary; and, in like manner, Zenovia, the huntress goddess, conduced to make Zenobia, and Zizi, its contraction, common in Russia.
The fire god was Znitch; and though he does not show any direct namesakes, yet there are sundry fire-names in his honour, such as the Slovak Vatroslav and Illyrian Ognoslav, both signifying fire glory. Possibly, too, the Russian Mitrofan may be connected with the old Persian mithras, or sacred fire; though in history it figures in Greek ecclesiastical guise, as the Patriarch Metrophanes.[150]
150. Tooke, Russia; Eichioff, Tableau de la Littérature du Nord au Moyen Age; Zeuss, Deutschen und die Nachbar Stamme; Universal History.
Few more Slavonic names remain to be mentioned, and these more for their correspondence with those of other races than for much intrinsic interest.
Very few are known beyond their own limits. Stanislav, or Camp glory, is the most universal, and is one of the very few found in the Roman calendar, which has two Polish saints thus named. The first, Stanislav Sczepanowski, Bishop of Cracow, was one of the many prelates of the eleventh century who had to fight the battle of Church against king, and he was happy in that his cause was that of morality as well as discipline. Having excommunicated King Boleslav for carrying off the wife of one of the nobles, he was murdered by the king in his own cathedral; and Gregory VII. being the reigning Pope, his martyrdom was an effectual seed of submission to the Church. The wretched king died by his own hand, and the bishop became a Slavonian Becket, was enshrined at Cracow, and thought to work miracles. His name was, of course, national, and was again canonized in the person of Stanislav Kostka, one of the early Jesuits who guided the reaction of Roman Catholicism in Poland. The name has even been used in France, chiefly for the sake of the father of the Polish queen of Louis XV., and afterwards from the influx of Poles after the partition of their kingdom.
| English. | French. | Portuguese. | Italian. |
| Stanislaus | Stanislas | Estanislau | Stanislao |
| German. | Bavarian. | Polish. | Illyrian. |
| Stanislav | Stanes | Stanislav | Stanisav |
| Lettish. | Stanisl | Stach | Stanko |
| Stanislavs | Stanel | Stas | |
| Stachis | Stanerl |
Much in the same spirit is the Russian Boris, from the old Slavonian borotj, to fight. It has never been uncommon in Muscovy, and belonged to the brother-in-law of Ivan the Terrible, Boris Goudenoff, who was regent for his imbecile nephew Feodor; and, after assassinating the hopeful younger brother, Dmitri, reigned as czar, till dethroned by a counterfeit Dmitri. Borka and Borinka are the contractions, and Borivor was the first Christian duke of Bohemia.
Bron, a weapon, forms Bronislav and Bronislava. Voj is the general Slavonic term for war, and is a very frequent termination. Vojtach, the Polish Vojciech, and Lithuanian Waitkus, all mean warrior.
It is a curious feature in nomenclature how strongly glory and fame are the leading notion of the entire race, whose national title of glory has had such a fall. Slav is an inevitable termination; voj almost as constantly used; and even the tenderest commencements are forced to love war, and to love fame. The old Russian Mstisslav glories in vengeance (mest), but is usually recorded as Mistislaus; Rostislav increases glory; Vratislav, Glowing glory, names not only the Wratislaus of history, but the city of Breslaw. The Slovak Vekoslav, and Vekoslava, are Eternal fame.
The two animals used in Slavonic names are warlike; Vuk, the wolf, and Bravac, the wild boar; but both these are very possibly adopted from the German Wulf and Eber.
Boleje, strong or great, answers to the Teuton mer, and Boleslav is great glory. Boleslav Chrobry, the second Christian prince of Poland, was a devout savage and great conqueror, both in Russia and Bohemia. He was the first Pole to assume the title of king; and after his death, in 1025, there are many instances of his name in both Poland and Bohemia.
In this latter country it had, however, a far more sinister fame. Borivor and Ludmilla, the first Christian prince and princess of that duchy, had two grandsons, Boleslav and Vesteslav, or Venceslav, the first a heathen, the latter a Christian. Boleslav stirred up the pagan population against his brother, and murdered him while praying in church at Prague, on the 28th of September, 644, thus conferring on him the honour of a patron saint and centre of legends. The House of Luxemburg obtained the kingdom of Bohemia by marriage, and Venceslav was introduced among their appellations in the form of Wenzel; and the crazy and furious Bohemian king of that name sat for a few unhappy years on the imperial throne; but in spite of the odium of that memory, the name of good King Wenceslas, as we call it, held its ground, and contracts into Vacslav and Vaclav. Some say that it is crown glory, from vienice; others deduce the prefix from vest, the superlative of veliku, great, which furnished the Bulgarian Velika, Veleslav, Velimir.
The familiar root that has been so often encountered in valeo, wield, &c., in the sense of power, gives the prefix vlad to various favourite Slavonic names. The Russian Vladimir, being of the race of Rurik, is sometimes seized upon as Waldemar; and, in fact, there is little difference in the sense of the first syllable. He is a great national saint, since it was his marriage with the Greek Princess Anna that obtained for the Byzantine Church her mighty Muscovite daughter; and in honour of him, Vladimir has been perpetually used in Russia, shortened into Volodia, and expanded into Volodinka by way of endearment.
The national saint of Hungary was Vladislav, who was the restorer of the faith that had almost faded away after the death of the sainted King Stephen, and was chosen as leader of a crusade, which was prevented by his death in 1095. His name, and that of his many votaries, have sorely puzzled Latin and Teutonic tongues; when not content, like the French, to term him St. Lancelot, his countrymen call themselves after him Laszlo, or Laczko, the Illyrians Lako, the Letts Wendis; but chroniclers vary between Uladislaus and Ladislaus in Hungary and Poland; and when the Angevin connection brought down a king from Hungary to revenge the death of his brother upon Giovanni of Naples, the Italians called him Ladislao; and as Ladislas we recognize the last native Hungarian king, brother-in-law to Charles V. Vladislavka is a feminine, contracting into Valeska, which is still borne by Polish young ladies. Vladivoj is another of the same class, and sve, all, with the verb vladati, to rule, has formed Vsevolad and Svevlad, All ruler, and Vseslav, All fame.
Possibly there may be some connection here with the deity Volos, Weles, or Veless, invoked under these names by the Slaves, Bohemians, and Russians, as witness of their oaths, and likewise as guardian of flocks. Possibly the Roman Pales may be the same deity under another form; but the name of Volos is still applied to shepherds, and comes, no doubt, from the Slavonic vlas, or Russian volos, the same word as wool.
The word mir at the end of Vladimir is somewhat doubtful. It may mean peace, or it may mean the world; and in like manner the Slovak Miroslav stands in doubt between world-fame or peaceful-fame.
Purvan, Purvançe, is the Bulgarian first, whether used in the sense of chief or of first-born does not appear; but, at any rate, bearing a most eastern sound with it.
We are familiar with the Russian ukase, from ukasat, to show forth; and kaze in Polish has the same sense of command. Kazimir is thus Command of peace, a noble title for a prince, and essentially national in Poland, where it was endeared by the fame of three of the best of the earlier sovereigns. It has the feminine Kasimira, and is one of the very few Slavonic names used by Teutons. Intermarriages introduced it among the German princes; and Johann Kasimir, a son of the Pfalzgraf of the Rhine, was a noted commander in the war of the Revolt of the Netherlands, and received the Garter from Queen Elizabeth. He was commonly called Prince Kasimir, and his namesakes spread in Germany; and either for the sake of the sound, or Polish sympathies, Casimir was somewhat fashionable in France.
| French. | Polish. | Bohemian. | Lettish. |
| Casimir | Kazimir | Kazimir | Kasimirs |
| German. | Kazimierz | Kasche | |
| Kasimir | Kaschis | ||
| Kaschuk |
Kol, council, formed Koloman, somewhat noted in early Slavonic history.
Jar, pronounced as beginning with y, means strength or firmness. Jaromir, Firm peace, was prince of Bohemia in 999. Jaropolk, firm government, was the last heathen grand prince of Muscovy; and this name, with Jaroslav, is very frequent in the early annals of the House of Rurik.
From lid, the people, (our old friends hleute and λαος,) came Ljudomir and Ludmilla, who was the first Christian duchess in Bohemia, and was strangled by her heathen daughter-in-law, Dragotina, the mother of Boleslav and Venceslav, leaving a sainted name much used among all Slavonian women, and called at home Lida and Lidiska; in Russia, Ljudmila. Lidvina was likewise Bohemian, from Vina, an old goddess.
Words signifying goodness are far from uncommon in this class of nomenclature. Dobry, good, has a worthy family. Dobrija, sometimes called Dobrowka, was the Bohemian princess whose marriage, like those of Clotilda, Bertha, and Anna, brought religion into her new country. Her husband, Miczslav, of Poland, had been born blind, but recovered his sight at seven years old. He had seven wives while still a heathen, but was told that he would have no children unless he began afresh with a Christian lady. He demanded the Czech princess. She brought St. Adalbert, of Prague, with her; and Mistislaus, as he is generally called in history, is counted as the first Polish Christian king, in the year 970. So national was the name, that the Poles altered Maria of Muscovy to Dobrija, on her marriage with Kasimir, their king. The other names of this commencement are Illyrian—Dobrogast, Dobroljub, Dobroslav, and its feminine Dobrovoj, Dobrvok, Dobrutin, and Dobrotina, Good guest, Good love, Good glory, Good war, Good wolf, and Beneficent.
Ssvätyj, holy, and polk, government, are the component parts of the old Russian Sviatopolk, often found among the early race of Rurik. Holy glory, Sviatoslav, was the inappropriate name of the son of the Christian princess Olga, the same who refused baptism, believing that all the converts were cowards, and that he should lose the support of the war gods and of his followers.
The Illyrian blag, good, makes Blagorod, Good birth, also, as usual, Blagovoj, Blagoslav, Blagodvor, Blagogost, and the contraction Blagoje.
Prav is upright, a connection, it may be, of probus, and it has formed the Slavonic Upravda, and the Illyrian Pravdoslav, Pravdoslava, Pravoje. It is, perhaps, the same with the Wend prib, which formed the name Pribislava. The Danes amalgamated the Wend pred into their own names as Predbiorn, or Preban.
Çast, or cest, is honour. The first letter, ç, should be pronounced z; it is rather a favourite with Poland and Bohemia. Çastibog exactly answers to the Greek Timotheus, as does Çastimir to the modern German Ehrenfried, very possibly a translation from it. Çastislav is the most popular form, like all else ending in slav, and has shortened into Çaslav, Çaislav, Cestislav, Ceslav.
Of the same sound is the first letter of çist, pure, whence Çistav and Çistislav. From tverd, firm, we have Tverdko, Tverdimir, Tverdislav.
The Slavonian nature has much in common with the Irish, and there is much of caressing and personal affection. Ljub, as has been seen, is a favourite element in names, and dragi, dear, does a considerable part. Dragomira, or DearDear peace, was the name of the heathen mother of Boleslav and Venceslav. Dragoslav, or dear glory, is Russian, and Poland and Bohemia have used Dragan, Draganka, Dragoj, Dragojila, Dragioila, Dragnja, Dragotin, Dragotinka, Dragilika, Dragija.
Duschinka is the tender epithet which, in Russia, a serf applies to her lady in addressing her. It is properly the diminutive of Duscha, happy, which is sometimes a Christian name in Russia, as well as in Illyria, where it is called Dusa and Dusica. Stastny is the Bohemian word for happy, and is sometimes used as a name. Blazena, meaning happy, in these tongues, is used as the South Slavonic equivalent for Beatrice.
Another word for love is mil. Mila and Milica are the feminines, meaning lovely, or amiable, Milan the masculine; but all these are now confounded with the numerous progeny of the Latin Æmilius. Mil is a favourite termination, and is found loving war and glory—Milovoj and Miloslav.
Cedoljub and Cedomil are both most loving names, the first half of the name signifying a child, so that they signify ‘child-love,’ or ‘filial affection.’
Brotherly love is likewise honoured as nowhere else, save in the Greek Philadelphus, which exactly renders Bratoljub, from brata, a word of the universal family likeness whence ἀδελφός and hermano are the only noted variations. Brajan and Bragican also belong to brotherhood.
Deva is a maiden, whence Devoslav and Devoslava, probably formed, or at least used, in honour of the Blessed Virgin.
A few names of extremely personal application exist, such as the Servian Mrena, white in the eyes, and Mladen, young, and the highly uncomplimentary Illyrian Smoljan and Smoljana, from smoljo, an overhanging nose, probably a continuation of the nickname of some favoured individual.
Krasan, beautiful, however, was used in names, as Krasimir, Krasislav, Krasomil, &c.; and zlata, golden, though once used in Zlatoust, as a literal translation of Chrysostomos, in other names may, it is hoped, be employed to denote beauty; or else Zlatoljub, with its contractions Zlatoje and Zlatko, would be a most avaricious name. Zlata, Zlatana, Zlatibor, and Zlatislav, are also used.
Tiho, silent, is a curious prefix. Tihomil, Silent love, and Tihomir, Silent peace, are clear enough; but Tihoslav, Silent glory, is a puzzling compound, probably only arising from the habit of ending everything with slav.
It is remarkable, however, that there is an entire absence of the names of complexion so common among the Kelts and Romans.
It still remains to cast a passing glance over the countries of the European commonwealth, and observe the various classes of names that have prevailed in them. It is only possible to do this, with my present information, very broadly and generally. In fact, every province has its own peculiar nomenclature; and the more remote the place the more characteristic the names, and, therefore, the most curious are the least accessible. It is the tendency of diffused civilization to diminish variations, and up to a certain point, at least, to assimilate all to one model, and this process for many years affected the educated and aristocratic community, although latterly a desire for distinctiveness and pride in the individual peculiarities of race and family, have arisen; but, on the other hand, the class below, which used to be full of individualities, has now reached the imitative stage, and is rapidly laying aside all national and provincial characteristics, The European nobility, except where some old family name has been preserved as an heirloom, thus cease, about the sixteenth century, to bear national names; but all are on one level of John, Henry, Frederick, Charles, Louisa, &c., while the native names come to light among citizens and peasants; but now, while the gentleman looks back for the most distinctive name in his remote ancestry, and proudly bestows it on his child, the mechanic or labourer shrinks from the remark and misunderstanding that have followed his old traditional baptismal name, and calls his son by the leastleast remarkable one he can find, or by one culled from literature. These remarks apply chiefly to England, but also, in great measure, to the town population of France, and to all other places which are much affected by the universal fusion of national ideas and general intercourse of the present day.
Modern Greece has the most direct inheritance from the ancient, classical, and old Christian names. True, her population has undergone changes which leave but little of the proud old Ionian or Dorian blood; but her language has been victorious over the barbarous speech of her conquerors, and Latins and Bulgarians became Greek beneath her influence.
The inhabitants of her peninsulas and islands are, then, with few exceptions, called by Greek names. The exceptions are, in the first place, in favour of the Hebrew names that are in universal use, not only the never-failing Joannes and Maria, but Isaakos, David, Elias, and others, for whom the Greek Church has inculcated more constant veneration than has the Latin. Next there are the few Latin names that were accepted by the Greeks during the existence of the Byzantine empire, and either through martyrs or by favourite sovereigns, recommended themselves to the love of posterity; but these are few in number, and Konstantinos is the only distinguished one. And, lastly, an extremely small proportion have been picked up by intercourse with the Western nations, but without taking root.
The mass of Greek names belongs to the class that I have called ‘Greek Christian,’ being those that were chiefly current in the years of persecution and martyrdom—some old hereditary ones from ancient time, others coined with the stamp of the Faith. These, with others expressive of favourite ideas, such as Macharios, Blessed, Sophia, Wisdom, Zoe, Life, were the staple of the Greeks until the modern revival brought forward the old heroic and historical names; and Achilles, Alkibiades, Themistokles, &c., are again in familiar use.
In a list of names used at the present day in the Ionian Islands, I find seventeen men and four women of the old historical and heroic class; the four ladies being Kalliope, Arethusa, Euphrosyne, and Aspasia; and, perhaps, Psyche and Olympias ought to be added to these: twenty-three male and nineteen female of the Christian Greek class: two Hebrew, i. e. Joannes and Jakobos, of men; three of women, Maria, Anna, and Martha. Paulos and Konstantinos, and perhaps Maura, alone represent the Latin, and Artorioos the Kelt, probably borrowed from some Englishman.
Surnames are inherited from the Latin nomina, and began earlier in Constantinople than anywhere else. They are divided between the patronymic, ending, as of old, in ides, the local, and the permanent nickname.
The European portion of the vast empire of Russia is nationally Slavonic, but much mixed with Tatar; and the high nobility is descended, at least according to tradition, from the Norsemen. The royal line is, through intermarriages, almost Germanized. The Church continues the faith, practice, and ritual of the Greek Church, but in the old Slavonic tongue, from which the spoken language has much deviated.
The Greek element greatly predominates in the nomenclature: native saints have contributed a few Slavonic specimens, and a very few inherited from the Norsemen occur; but the race of Rurik seem very quickly to have adopted Russian names. The Tatar population hardly contributes a Christian name to history, and the Germans almost always, on their marriage with the Russian imperial family, assumed native, i. e. Greek or Roman-Greek, names. The present fashions in nomenclature are, however, best explained in the following letter from an English lady residing in Russia:—
'Children (and grown-up persons in their own family) are, I may say, universally called by their diminutives. In society the Christian name and patronymic are made use of, and you seldom hear a person addressed by his family name, though he may be spoken of in the third person as “Romanoff,” or “Romanova” (surnames take the gender and number of their bearers), except by his superiors, such as a general to his young officers, &c.
'The patronymic is formed by the addition of vitch, or evitch, to the Christian name of a person’s father; as Constantine Petrovitch, Alexander Andréevitch, in the masculine; and of ovna, or evna, in the feminine, Olga Petrovna, Elizavetta Andréovna.
'I would call your attention to the error that is generally made in the newspapers, where these patronymics are spelt with a W, whereas they really are spelt and pronounced with a V.
'The diminutives can always be traced to the root, being derived from the first, or the accented syllable, of the full name, with the termination of a little fond syllable, sha, ia, inka, otchka, oushka; for instance, Mária, Másha, Mashinka—Olga, Olinka, Olitchka: Ian, John, Vanoushka, Vanka—Alexandre, Alexandra, Sasha, Sashinka. Not in one diminutive are there such glaring differences of spelling and sound, as Dick for Richard, Polly for Mary, Patty for Martha.
'Perhaps it is not superfluous to mention, that there are diminutives of reproach as well as of affection; if you scold Olga, she becomes Olka; Ivan, Vanka; and so on. This form, however, is seldom made use of by well-educated people, except in fun; though there are some who do not hesitate to make free use of it in their kitchens and nurseries, in a private sort of a manner. Among the lower orders, and especially in the country, it is not considered reproachful, but is the general form of appellation. You observe, that this is formed by the addition of ka to the principal syllable.
'I find, on attentive search in the “Monument of Faith,” a sort of devotional book of prayer and meditations applied to every day of the year, and with the names and a short-biography of each saint, that there are 822 men’s names and 204 women’s in the Russian calendar. Of these, you will be surprised to hear twelve only are really Slavonic. Unfortunately I am unable to inform you of their meanings, notwithstanding every inquiry among the few educated inhabitants of this little out-of-the-way town; but if ever I have an opportunity of seeing a real “Sclavonophile,” as searchers into Russian antiquities are called, I will not fail to ask about it. The names are as follows:—
‘All the other names are of Greek, Latin, or Hebrew origin (with a very few exceptions, of which I will speak afterwards), and though they generally differ in termination, yet they are to be recognized instantly. I observe that in Greek names K is used, and not the sound of S, as in Kiril, Kiprian (Cyril, Cyprian). Also that Th takes the sound of F, as Féodore, Fomá (Theodore, Thomas). But the Th is represented by a letter distinct from that by which Ph or F are represented, the former being written Θ and the latter Ø, but both have exactly the same sound. U sometimes becomes V when used in the middle of names, as Evgenia (Eugenia), Evstafi (Eustace). B in many instances becomes V, as in Vasili (Basil), Varvara (Barbara), Varfolomey (Bartholomew).
‘The names of other origin are very few, viz.:—
‘German names, I may say, are not to be found in the Russo-Greek calendar.
‘When I say that there are 1026 Christian names in the calendar, I must explain that the number of saints is infinitely greater; there being from two or three to twenty or thirty every day of the year, the 29th of February included. There are sixty-one St. John’s days, thirty St. Peter’s, twenty-seven St. Féodor’s, twenty-four St. Alexandre’s, eighteen St. Gregory’s, sixteen St. Vasili’s, twelve St. André’s, ten St. Constantine’s, &c.
‘Sometimes the same saint is fêted two or three times in the year, but the different saints of the same name are very many. The female saints are in less number. Maria and Anna each occur ten times in the year, Euphrosinia six times, Féodora eight, and so on. In proportion to the number of saints so are the names of the population; so that Ivan is the most common; next, I think, comes Vasili, André, Pëtre, Nicolas (Nikolâï), Alexandre.
‘The lower orders have no idea of dates; they always reckon by the saints’ days. Ask a woman the age of her baby, she will say, “Well, I suppose it is about thirty weeks old.” “What is its name?” “Ivan.” “Which Ivan?” you ask, your calculations being defeated by the sixty-one St. Johns. “Why, the Ivan that ‘lives’ four days after dirty Prascóvia.” You then understand that the child must have been born about the 10th or 12th October, as the blessed saint is irreverently called “dirty Prascóvia” from falling on the 14th October, a very muddy time of the year in holy Russia.
‘One name only can be given at baptism, and it must be taken from the orthodox calendar. German, French, and English names not to be found there cannot be bestowed, nor can a surname, as in England.’
Italy, like Greece, has her classical inheritance. Her Lucio, Marco, Tito, Giulio, bear appellations borne by their Oscan or Sabine forefathers, even before Rome was a city; but mingled with this ancient stream there have been such an infinite number of other currents, that no land has undergone more influences, or has a more remarkable variety of personal names.
In the decay of the Roman Empire, and the growth of the Church, the old prænomina were a good deal set aside, by the heathen in his search for heroic-sounding titles, by the Christian in his veneration for the martyrs and saints of his Church. So the prosaic matter-of-fact three-storied name of the Roman was varied by importations, generally of Christian Greek, but now and then of heroic Greek; and as the Christian element predominated, the Hebrew apostle or prophet suggested the name of the young Roman. Barbarians, acquiring rights of citizenship, ceased to adopt the nomen of their patron, retaining appellations that a Scipio or Cato would have thought only fit to be led in a triumph, but still putting on a Latin finish and regarding them as Roman. But these—disgraceful as they are now regarded—were the days that stamped the Roman impress on the world, and marked the whole South of Europe with an indelible. print of Latin civilization and language.
Goths, Vandals, Gepidæ, and Lombards came on northern Italy one after the other; and the Lombards established a permanent kingdom that deeply influenced the north of the peninsula and Teutonized its nobility. The towns were less open to their influence; and Venice remained the Roman and partly Byzantine city she was from her source—using a language where her g is still the Greek ζ, and christening her children by the names of later Rome in its Christian days, only with the predominance of the national saint, Marco, the guardian of the city ever since his bones were stolen from Alexandria. The recurring ano, or ani, of Venetian surnames is the adoptive anus of Rome—republican Rome—whose truest representative the merchant city was till her shameful degradation and final ruin.
The Italian element in the population of Cisalpine Gaul continued far too strong for the Lombardic conquerors, and ere long had taught them its own language. If they wrote, it was in their best approach to classical Latin; when they spoke, it was in the dialectic Latin of the provinces farther broken by the inability of the victors to learn the case terminations, which were settled by making, in the first declensions, all the singular masculines end in o, and plurals in i, all the feminines in a and e; in the others, striking a balance and calling all ite. But though the speech was Latin, the Lombard kept his old Teutonic name—Adelgiso, Astolfo, or the like, and handed it on to his son, softened, indeed, but with its northern form clearly traceable. Time went on, and the Lombardic kingdom was fused into the Holy Roman Empire. The towns remained self-governing, self-protecting old Roman municipalities; the Lombardic nobles, if they had a strong mountain fastness, lived like eagles in their nests and were the terror of all; if they had but a small home on the plains, were forced to make terms with the citizens and accept their privileges as a favour. Thus came the Teuton element into the cities, and old Lombardic names were borne by Florentine and Milanese citizens. The Roman nomina so far were preserved that a whole family would be called after its founder, whether by his name or nickname. The noted man might be originally Giacopo, but called Lapo for short. His children were, collectively, Lapi; a single one would be either Bindo Lapo, or, latterly, dei Lapi, one of the Lapi. Sometimes office gave a surname, as Cancelliero, when the family became Cancellieri. One of these Cancellieri was twice married; and one of the wives being yclept Bianca, her children were called Bianchi; their half-brothers Neri, merely as the reverse; and thence arose the two famous party words of the Guelfs of Florence. Latterly, when these names in i were recognized as surnames, it was usual to christen a boy by the singular, and thus we have Pellegrino Pellegrini, Cavaliere Cavalieri, and many other like instances, familiar to the readers of Dante and of old Italian history. Dante’s own names—the first contracted from a Latin participle, the second the direct patronymic from his father—Alighiero, the Teutonic noble spear, form a fit instance of the mixed tongue, which he first reduced to the dignity of a written language. Those were its days of vigour and originality; of fresh name-coining from its own resources,—Gemma, Fiamma, Brancaleone, Vinciguerra, Cacciaguido—words not merely of commonplace tradition, but original invention.
Meantime southern Italy had been under other influences. Long remaining a province of the Eastern empire, Calabria, Apulia, and Sicily were the marauding ground of the Saracens, till the gallant Norman race of Hauteville came to their deliverance, and imposed on them a Norman-French royalty and nobility, with their strange compound of French and Northern names—Robert and Roger, Tancred and William, Ferabras and Drogo, the latter certainly Frank, as it belonged to an illegitimate son of Charlemagne. It was brought to England by Dru de Baladon, a follower of the Conqueror; and we find it again in Sir Drew Drury, the keeper of Mary of Scotland. It may be related to the Anglo-Saxon dry, a sorcerer, and dreist, the German skilful, but its derivation is uncertain.
When the Norman influence waned, the Swabian power gave a few German names to the Two Sicilies, but was less influential than either the French in Naples or the Aragonese in Sicily, where the one strewed Carlo, the other Fernando and Alfonso.
All this time the Christian name was the prominent one, more used and esteemed than titles throughout all ranks. Men and women would be simply spoken of as Giovanni or Beatrice, or more often, by contractions, Vanni or Bice, Massuccio, or Cecca, now and then with Ser or Monna (signor or madonna) added as titles of respect.
All the time, what may be called the Roman Catholic influence on nomenclature was growing in its great centre. The city of martyrs was filled with churches where the remains of the saint gave the title, and was thought to give the sanctity, and these suggested names to natives and pilgrims alike. Cecilia, Sebastiano, Lucia, &c., and more than can be enumerated, won their popularity from owning a church that served as a station in the pilgrimages, and thus influenced the world. Relics brought to Rome, and then bestowed as a gift upon princes, carried their saints' epithets far and wide; and when Constantinople was in her decay, and purchased the aid of Western sovereigns by gifts of her sacred stores, the Greek and Eastern saints had their names widely diffused, as Anna, Adriano, &c. Moreover, the feasts of different events in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary began to tell on Italian names, and Annunciata, and later, Assunta, were the produce.
Francesco is the most universal name of native Italian fabrication. It is one of what may be called the names spread by religious orders, all of which originate in Italy; Benedetto, oldest of all and universal in Romanist lands; Augustino, never very popular; Domenico, not uncommon in Italy, but most used in gloomy Spain; Francesco and Clara, both really universal in Protestant as well as Roman Catholic lands.
The revival of classical literature, produced partly by the influx of Greek scholars after the fall of Constantinople, partly by the vigour of Boccaccio and Petrarch, brought a classical influence to bear on Italy, of which her names are more redolent than those elsewhere. Emilia, Virgilio, Olimpia, Ercole, Fabrizio, all arose and flourished in Italy, and have never since been dropped, though the Romanist influence has gone on growing, and others have affected parts of the country.
Romance had some influence—Orlando, Oliviero, Rinaldo, Ruggiero—and the more remote Lancilotto, Ginevra, Isolda, Tristano, all became popular through literature; and the great manufacture of Italian novels, no doubt, tended to keep others in vogue.
The French and German wars in Italy, the erection of the Lombardic republics into little tyrannical duchies, and the Spanish conquest of Naples, all tended to destroy much of the individuality of Italian nomenclature, and reduce that of the historical characters to the general European level. And this tendency has increased rather than diminished, as Spain devoured the North, and ‘balance of power’ struggled for Austrian interests, and established Bourbon kingdoms and duchies. The old national names were not utterly discarded; there was still a Lombardic flavour in the North, a classical one in the old cities, a Norman one in Sicily; but the favourite commonplace names predominated in the noblesse, and titles began to conceal them. Moreover, the women were all Maria, and many of the men likewise; and the same rule at present holds good, though of late the favourites have become Filomena and Concetta—in honour, the one of the new saint, the other of the new dogma of Rome.
The House of Savoy, which is just now the hope of Italy, always had its own peculiar class of names—Humbert, Amé, Filiberto, Emanuele, Vittore, and these are likely to become the most popular in liberal Italy.
Spain has many peculiarities of her own, to which I would fain do greater justice than is in my power. Celtiberian at first, she seems to have become entirely Latin, except in those perplexing Basque provinces, where the language remains a riddle to philologists. One Spanish name is claimed by Zamacola as Basque, i. e. Muño, with its feminine Muña, or Munila; and for want of a more satisfactory history, one is inclined to suppose that Gaston, or Gastone, must be likewise Basque. It first comes to light as Gascon among the counts of Foix and Béarn, from whom the son of Henri IV. derived it, and made it French.
Rome Latinized the Spanish speech for ever, and left many an old Latin name, which, however, went on chiefly among the lower orders, while the Suevi and the Goths ruled as nobles and kings, bringing with them their Teutonic names, to be softened down to the dignified Romance tongue, which took the Latin accusative for its stately plurals in os and es. It is likely that the Latin element was working upwards at the time of the Mahometan conquest, since the traitor Julian, his daughter Florinda, the first patriot king, Pelayo, all have classically derived names; and some of these occur in the early royal pedigrees of the Asturias and Navarre, and the lords of Biscay, as these small mountain territories proclaimed their freedom and Christianity. Here we find Sancho (Sanctus), Eneco (Ignatius), Lope, Manse, Fortunio, Adoncia, Teresa, Felicia, all undoubtedly Latin and Greek; and curiously, too, here are the first instances of double Christian names, probably the remnant of the Latin style. Eneco Aristo, Inigo Sancho, Garcias Sancho, and the like, are frequent before the year 1000; and the Cid’s enemy, Lain Calvo, is supposed to be Flavius Calvus. The Goths, however, left a far stronger impression on the nomenclature than on the language. Alfonso, Fernando, Rodrigo, Berengario, Fruela, Ramiro, Ermesinda, are undoubtedly theirs; but other very early names continue extremely doubtful, such as Ximen and Ximena, Urraca, Elvira, or Gelvira, Alvaro, Bermudo, Ordoño, Velasquita, all appearing in the earliest days of the little Christian kingdoms, though not in the palmy times of the Gothic monarchy. These names have been already mentioned, with the derivations to which they may possibly belong; but they are far from being satisfactorily accounted for. The simple patronymic ez was in constant use, and formed many surnames.
As the five kingdoms expanded and came into greater intercourse with Europe, the more remarkable names gradually were discarded; but Alfonso, Fernando, Rodrigo, Alvar, Gonzalo, were still national, and the two first constantly royal, till the House of Trastamare brought Enrique and Juan into fashion in Castille. The favourite saint was James the Great, or, more truly, Santiago de Compostella, in honour of whom Diego and his son Diaz are to be found in very early times. Maria, too, seems to have been in use in Spain sooner than elsewhere, and Pedro was in high favour in the fourteenth century, as it has continued ever since.
Aragon and Portugal had variations from the Castillian standard of language; and Portugal now claims to have a distinct tongue, chiefly distinguished by the absence of the Moorish guttural; and in nomenclature, by the close adherence to classic spelling, and by the terminations which would in Spanish be in on, or un, being in aŏ, the contraction of nho. Aragonese has been absorbed in Castillian, and Catalan is only considered as a dialect.
After Aragon and Castille had become united, and, crushing the Moors and devouring Navarre, were a grand European power, their sovereigns lost all their nationality. French, or rather Flemish, Charles, and Greek Philip, translated as Carlo and Felipe, reigned on their throne as the House of Austria, while the native Fernando went off to be the German Ferdinand. Isabel, the Spanish version of either Jezebel, or Elizabeth, did retain her popularity, but hardly in equal measure with the universal Maria; and as the Inquisition Romanized the national mind more and more, the attribute names of Mercedes and Dolores, and even the idolatrous Pilar, and Guadalupe, from a famous shrine, were invented. These were given in conjunction with Maria, and used for convenience' sake. Literary names seem to have been few or none, and the saint, or rather the Romanist, nomenclature, was more unmitigated in Spain and her great western colonies than anywhere else; even in Italy, where the classics and romance always exerted their power. In the Spanish colonies, even divine names are used, without an idea of profanity.
The use of the Christian name in speech has, however, never been dropped, even under the French influence of the Bourbon monarchy; and Don Martin, Doña Luisa, &c., would still be the proper title of every Spanish gentleman or lady.
The Spanish names that have spread most extensively have been Fernando in Germany, Iñigo and Teresa throughout all Roman Catholic countries, for the sake of the two Spanish saints who revived their old half-forgotten sound.