CHAPTER III
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NAMES FROM ANIMALS, ETC.
SECTION I.—_The Lion._
Much of the spirit of the nation is to be traced in the animals whence their names are derived. The Jew, whose temper, except when thoroughly roused, was peaceful and gentle, had hardly any save the names of the milder and more useful creatures: the ewe, the lamb, the bee, the fawn, &c. The Indo-European races, on the other hand, have the more brave and spirited animals, many of them running through the entire family of nations thus derived, and very possibly connected with that ‘beast epic,’ as Mr. Dasent calls it, which crops out everywhere; in the East, in apologues and fables; and towards the West, in ‘_mahrchen_,’ according to the expressive German term. It is just as if in the infancy of the world, there was the same living sympathy with the animal creation that we see in a young child, and that the creatures had at one time appeared to man to have an individual character, rank, and history of their own, explained by myths, in which these beings are the actors and speakers, and assumed a meaning divine, symbolic, didactic, or simply grotesque, according to the subsequent development of the peoples by whom they were handed down.
The lion is one of these universal animals, testifying how long dim memories of the home in Asia must have clung to the distant wanderers.
Leon, or Leo, was early a favourite name among the Greeks; and Herodotus thinks, on account of its meaning, that the captive Leo was the first victim of the Persians. It passed on in unceasing succession through Greeks of all ranks till it came to Byzantine emperors and Roman bishops. Two popes, to whom Rome owed the deepest debt of gratitude—to the one, for interceding with Attila; to the other, for turning away the wrath of the Saracens—were both called Leo, and it thus became a favourite on the papal throne, and was considered to allude to the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, which was therefore sculptured on St. Peter’s, in the time of the Medicean Leo X.
Leone, and Léon, and Léonie have continued in use in France and Italy. The word has been much compounded from the earlier Greek times, Leontius, Leontia, whence the modern French Léonce. The name Leonidas, the glorious self-devoted Spartan, after entire desuetude, has been revived in Greece and America.
The Romanized Britons adopted the Lion name, which amongst them became Llew, the Lot of the romances of the Round Table. Here likewise figured the gallant Sir Lionel, from whom Edward III., in chivalrous mood, named his third son, the ancestor of the House of York. An unfortunate young Dane, to whom the Dutch republic stood sponsor, received the name of Leo Belgicus. The Slavonic forms are Lev, Lav, and Lew, which, among the swarms of Jews in Poland, have become a good deal confounded with their hereditary Levi.
Leandros, Leander, as we call it, means lion-man. Besides the unfortunate swimming lover whose exploit Byron imitated and Turner painted, it belonged to a sainted bishop of Seville, who, in 590, effected the transition of the Spanish Visigoths from Arianism to orthodoxy. Very likely his name was only a classicalizing of one of the many Gothic names from _leut_ (the people), which are often confused with those from the lion; but Leandro passed on as a Christian name in Spain and Italy.
The name Leocadia, a Spanish maiden martyred by the Moors, had probably some connection with a lion; but it cannot be traced in the corrupted state of the language. Léocadie has travelled into France.
The Slavonians have Lavoslav (lion-glory), which they make the equivalent of the Teutonic Liutpold or Leopold, really meaning the people’s prince.
Löwenhard (the stern lion, or lion strong), was a Frank noble, who was converted at the same time as his sovereign, Clovis, and became a hermit near Limoges. Many miracles were imputed to him, and St. Leonard became a peculiarly popular saint both in France and England. Leonard is a favourite name in France; and has some popularity in England, chiefly, it is said, in the north, and in the Isle of Wight. Lionardo is Italian, witness Lionardo da Vinci; and, according to Gil Blas, Leonarda is a Spanish feminine; Germany has in surnames Lenhardt, Lehnart, Leinhardt, Lowen; Italy invented the formidable Christian name, Brancalleone (Brachium leonis), or arm of a lion; and Bavaria has Lowenclo (lion-claw).
┌────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┐ │ English. │ French. │ German. │ Swiss. │ Italian. │ │Leonard │Léonard │Leonhard │Liert │Lionardo │ │ │Leunairs │Lienhard │Liertli │ │ │ │Launart │Lienl │Lienzel │ │ └────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┘
SECTION II.—_The Horse._
The horse is as great a favourite as the lion, and is prominent in many a myth from the Caspian to the Frozen Ocean. His name in Sanscrit _açva_, in Zendish _esp_ or _asp_, comes forth in the Greek ἵππος or ἵkkoς, showing its identity with the Latin _equus_, the Gaelic _each_, and it may be with the Teutonic _hengst_.
Among these various races it is the Persian, the Greek, and the Gael who have chiefly used the term for this noble animal in their nomenclature.
The Persian feminine Damaspia is said exactly to answer to the Greek Hippodameia, the female of Hippodamus (horse-tamer), and Hippos forms part of far too many Greek names to be here enumerated, except where they have become popular elsewhere.
One would have imagined that Hippos and λύω (to destroy) must have suggested the name of Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, who was destroyed by his own horse, terrified by a sea monster; but, on the other hand, he appears to have been named after his mother Hippolita, the beautiful queen of the Amazons, whom Shakespeare has shown us hunting in his wondrous Attic forest. However this may be, Hippolytus has many namesakes; among them an early Christian writer, and also a priest at Rome, who in the year 252 was condemned by the persecuting judge to die the death his name suggested. The Christians buried him in a catacomb, which bears his name. Sant’Ippolito became a parish church at Rome, and of course gave a title to one of the cardinals, and Ippolito and Ippolita have always been fashionable Italian names. He was also the patron of horsemen and horses, and the latter were solemnly blessed in his name. Xanthippe’s name is feminine of Xanthippus (a yellow horse!) What a pity it was not a grey one!
The Persian Aspamitras (horse-lover) exactly corresponds to the Greek Φίλιππoς (loving horses). Thus were named many obscure kings of Macedon, before that sagacious prince who prepared the future glories of his son by disciplining his army, and crushing Greece in spite of those indignant orations of Demosthenes, which have made Philippics the generic term for vehement individual censure.
Macedon, by colonizing the East, spread Philippos over it, and thus was named the apostle of Bethsaida, and likewise one of the deacons, chosen for his ‘Grecian’ connections.
The apostle was martyred at Hierapolis; nevertheless an arm of his, according to the Bollandists, was brought to Florence from Constantinople, in 1205, and made Filippo, Filippa, Lippo, Pippo, Pippa, great favourites in Northern Italy.
Greece and her dependent churches always used the name of Philip, or Feeleep, as they call it in Russia; and it was the eldest son of the Muscovite Anne, Queen of Henri I., who was the first Philippe to wear the crown of France. He transmitted his name to five more kings, and to princes innumerable, of whom one became Duke of Burgundy. His descendant, the half Flemish, half Austrian Philippe the handsome, married Juana la Loca of Castille and Aragon, and their grandson was known as Felipe II. in Spain. During his brief and ill-omened stay in England, he was godfather to Philip Sidney, whose name commemorated the gratitude of his mother to the King Consort for having interceded for the life of his father the Duke of Northumberland.
Philip, in both genders, was, however, already common in England. Queen Philippe, as she called herself, our admirable Hainaulter, was the god-daughter of Philippe de Valois, her husband’s rival; and many a young noble and maiden bore her honoured name, which one female descendant carried to Portugal, and another to Sweden, where both alike worthily sustained the honour of Plantagenet.
The name of Philippe is particularly common in the Isle of Jersey, so that it has become a joke with sailors to torment the inhabitants by calling them Philip as they would term an Irishman Paddy.
Filippo is additionally popular in Italy at present from the favourite modern Saint Filippo Neri.[31]
┌────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┐ │ English. │ Scotch. │ French. │ German. │ Italian. │ │Philip │Phillipp │Philippe │Philipp │Filippo │ │Phil │ │Philipot │Lipp │Pippo │ │Phip │ │ │Lipperl │Lippo │ │Philipp │ │ │ │ │ │Lipp │ │ │ │ │ │Lipperl │ │ │ │ │ ├────────────┼────────────┼────────────┼────────────┼────────────┤ │Portuguese. │ Spanish. │ Russian. │ Lett. │ Hungarian │ │Felippe │Felipe │Feeleep │Wilips │Fülip │ │Felipinho │ │ │Lipsts │ │ │Felipe │ │ │ │ │ ├────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┤ │ FEMININE │ ├────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┬────────────┤ │ English. │ French. │Portuguese. │ Dutch. │ Italian │ │Philippa │Philippine │Felipa │Pine │Filippa │ │ │Flipote │ │ │Pippa │ └────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┴────────────┘
Footnote 31:
Rawlinson’s _Herodotus_; Keightley’s _Mythology_; Butler; Michaelis.
SECTION III.—_The Goat._
The goat (αἴξ) stands out prominently in northern mythology, though there scarcely, if at all, used in nomenclature. In Greek mythology he appears, though not distinctly, and the names derived from him are manifold.
The goat was the standard of Macedon (the rough goat was the King of Grecia), as Daniel had announced while Greece was yet in her infancy, and Macedon in barbarism, not even owned as of the Hellenic confederacy. The unfortunate posthumous son of Alexander was therefore called Aigos, or Ægos, in addition to his father’s name.
The aigis, ægis, or shield of Pallas Athene, though said to bear the gorgon’s head, was probably at first a goat skin. From it is formed Aigidios, Ægidius. In 475, there was an Ægidius, a Roman commander in Gaul, who was for a time an independent sovereign, ruling over both Romans and Franks. About two centuries later, an Athenian, as it is said, by name Ægidius, having worked a miraculous cure by laying his cloak over the sick man, fled to France to avoid the veneration of the people, and dwelt on the banks of the Rhone, living on the milk of a hind. The creature was chased by the king of France, and, flying wounded to her master, discovered him to the hunters. Thenceforth he has been revered as St. Giles, and considered as the patron of numbers thus called. Now, is Giles a contraction of Ægidius, or is it the corruption of the Latin Julius; or, again, is it the Keltic Giolla, a servant, or the Teutonic Gils, a pledge? Every one of these sounds more like it than the Greek word, and it does seem probable that the Athenian, if Athenian he were, was seized upon as patron by aliens to his name, and then cut down to suit them. However, Ægidius continued to be treated as the Latin for Giles; Egidio became an Italian name; and as St. Giles was patron of Edinburgh, Egidia was used by Scottish ladies; one of the sisters of King Robert II. was so called, and even now it is not quite extinct.[32]
SECTION IV.—_The Bee._
The word μείλα (soothing things) gave the verb μειλίσσω, or μελίσσω (melisso), to soothe or sweeten, whence the name of honey, and of the honey-bee. Melissa was sometimes said to have been the name of the nymph who first taught the use of honey, and bees, perhaps from their clustering round their queen, became the symbol of nymphs. Thence Melissa grew to be the title of a priestess as well as a lady’s name in classic times.
Melissa was invented by the Italian poets as the beneficent fairy who protected Bradamante, and directed Ruggero to escape from Atlante, and afterwards from Alcina, upon the hippogriff. Thus she entered the domain of romance, and became confounded with the Melusine and Melisende, who had risen out of the Teutonic Amalaswinth; and Melisse and Melite were adopted into French nomenclature.
Akin to Melissa is Γλυκηρά (Glykera), the sweet. This was not a feminine in good repute in ancient Athens, but it has since belonged to a saint of the Greek Churches, namely, the daughter of Macarius, thrice consul, who in the time of Antoninus suffered torments for a long time at Trajanopolis; and Gloukera is prevalent in Russia; and Glykera, or Glycère, in France.[33]
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Footnote 32:
Keightley’s _Fairy Mythology_; Croker’s _Fairy Legends_; Tooke’s _History of Russia_; Butler.
Footnote 33:
Liddell and Scott; Professor Munch; Junius.
SECTION V.—_Names from Flowers._
It was not common in Greece to name persons from flowers, but two names in occasional use are connected with legends of transformation, though in each case it is evident that the name belonged originally to the flower, and then was transferred to the man.
Thus the Narcissus, named undoubtedly from ναρκάω (narkao), to put to sleep, has become the object of a graceful legend of the cold-hearted youth, for whose sake the nymph Echo pined away into a mere voice, and in retribution was made to see his own beauty in the water and waste from hopeless love for his own image, until his corpse became the drooping golden blossom, that loves to hang above still pools of water, like the “dancing daffodils” of Wordsworth.
Narcissus seems to have been a name among the Greek slaves of the Romans, for we twice find it belonging to freedmen of the Emperor. St. Narcissus was Bishop of Jerusalem in 195, and presided at the council that fixed the great festival of the Resurrection on a Sunday instead of on the day fixed by the full moon like the Jews. The Russians call it Narkiss; the Romans, Narcisso; and it has even been found belonging to an English peasant.
Hyacinthus (Ὑάκινθος) was a beautiful Spartan youth, who, being accidentally killed by Apollo in a game with the discus, was caused by the sorrowing divinity to propagate from his blood a flower bearing on its petals either his initial Υ or the αί (alas), the cry of lamentation. A yearly feast was held at Sparta in honour of Hyacinthus, and his name was perpetuated till Christian times, when a martyr bore it at Rome, and thus brought it into favour in Italy as Giacinto; also a Polish Dominican Jacinthus in the thirteenth century, is commemorated as the Apostle of the North, because he preached Christianity in great part of Russia and Tartary; but curiously enough it is in Ireland alone that Hyacinth has ever flourished as a man’s name, probably as a supposed equivalent to some native Erse name. There it is very common among the peasantry, and is in common use as Sinty, while in France, Italy, and Spain, though apparently without a saintly example of their own sex, Jacinthe, Giacinta, and Jacinta are always feminine, and rather popular peasant names.
Ῥόδος (Rhodos), the rose, is a word connected in its source with the origin of the Teuton _roth_, Keltic _ruadh_, and Latin _rufus_. Roses are the same in almost every tongue, and they almost always suggest female names; of which the most interesting to us is Rhoda, “the household maid, of her own joy afraid,” who “opened not the gate for gladness” when she knew the voice of St. Peter as he stood without the door after his release from prison and death. Her name, as a Scripture one, has had some use in England, though, in general, the Roses of each country have grown upon their own national grafts from the one great stock, or, more strangely, are changed from horses.
Φύλλις (Phyllis), a green leaf or bough, has another story of transformation. She was a Thalian damsel who hung herself because her lover did not keep his promise of returning to marry her, and was accordingly changed into an almond tree. Phyllis was the name of Domitian’s nurse, and in process of time found her way among the dramatis personæ of Arcadian poetry; and arrived at being somewhat popular as a name in England.
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