II. ANCIENT KELTIC NAMES…

II. ANCIENT KELTIC NAMES

SECTION I.—Welsh Mythic Names.

Welsh myths we say advisedly, for whether these were really Druidical myths or not, they have become so much disguised by Welsh bards, down to Christian times, that there is no knowing what was the original framework. Our concern is with the names connected with these traditions.

The primary personages of semi-divine rank in these traditions are Hu Gadarn, or the Mighty, the sun god, and his wife Ceridwen. It is believed that the two sacred islands of Iona and Mona were both originally Ynysgwaw Hu, the island of the worship of Hu. Others, however, say, that Iona was only I-thon, or isle of the waves.

The word Hu is not explained; but it has passed into a name in Wales and Brittany. Old French has the name inflected as Hue, Hues, Huon, and the feminine Huette; and the true Anglicized Welsh form is Hu or Hew, though it is now universally confounded with the Teutonic Hugh, from hugur, thought, with which it may be cognate, and the Welsh patronymic Ap Hu is always spelt Pugh.

The Triads speak of Aed Mawr, or Aedd, as father of Pridain, but he may have been either a title of Hu, or else the god himself. Aodh is, in fact, in sound and sense, closely related to the Greek αίθω (aitho), and our heat is of the same kin.

Dr. Meyer thinks this Aed Mawr of the Triads was the forefather from whom the Ædui mentioned by Cæsar were called, and further derives from him Cæer Aeddon, or Dun Aeddon, Dun Edin, or Edinburgh. Yet, on the other hand, it is a part of our English faith that Auld Reekie is our Northumbrian Edwin’s burgh.

Aed, Aeddon, Aodh, Aedhan, were far more popular names than those derived from Hu. Aeddan is lamented by Aneurin as a British warrior slain among the victims of Henghist’s treachery; and two Aoidhs reigned, the one in Connaught, the other in Scotland, in 570; and to the latter of these, called by Scottish historians Aidan, or Edan, they ascribe the foundation of their capital; but it was at that time in the possession of the Angles, and if called after any Aodh, it must have been after an earlier one. The Irish Aodh is said to have been about to expel the bards, but to have been prevented by the intercession of St. Columb.

At one time Ireland was afflicted with thirteen contemporary Aodhs; and at least two so called reigned in Scotland—Aodhfin, or the white, the Ethfine of historians, and Aoidh, or Eth, the swift-footed. So common was the name among the Irish that one hundred Aodhs and one hundred Aidans or Oédans were killed in the battle of Maghrath. The MacAodhas of Ireland were once many in number; and became MacHugh or Magee; in Scotland, Mackay; or were sometimes translated into Hughson or Hewson. But the most interesting person so called is known to us as Aidan. He visited Wales and Scotland, became a monk of Iona, and then went forth as a missionary to the North of England. He was the friend of the admirable Oswald, free of hand, king of Deira, who used to interpret his Keltic speech to the Angle population; and his gentle teaching won to the Church multitudes whom the harshness of former missionaries had repelled. He is reckoned as first bishop of Lindisfarn, and has left his name to sundry churches of St. Aidan. Aoidhne, or Eithne, was the Irish feminine once distinguished, but now disused.

Aidan is still a female name among some Welsh families.

Another Irish St. Aeddan, who was bishop of Ferns about the year 632, has a most curious variety of namesakes—some from his baptismal name, others from his pet appellation Móedóg, that is M'Óedóg, namely Ma Otdóg, my little Aodh. This strange custom of prefixing the possessive pronoun, first person singular, to the proper name of a saint was very general. Maodhòg, as it has since become, is still common in Wexford, where the Irish language has disappeared. It is pronounced and written Mogne, and is perpetuated in honour of the Saint of Ferns. Madog, or Madawc, was the usual form in Wales, where it has always been in great favour. Madawc, prince of Powysland, who died in 1158, in great favour with Henry II. The Latin translation of Aidan, Aideus, or Aidanus, has adhered to him in Basse Bretagne, but has there been cut down into Dé, St. Dé being the appellation of a village there, the church of which is dedicated to Mogne, is by Irish Protestants often Anglicized as Aidan, by the Roman Catholics as Moses.

The leek is said to have been used by the Welsh in the worship of Ceridwen, the wife of Hu. Afterwards a story rose that, in one of Cadwallawn’s battles, his Welshmen marked themselves with leeks from a garden hard by, and the story was later transferred to the Welsh troops of the Black Prince in France.

Ced, or Cyridwen, shows no namesakes; but buadh, or budd, victory, furnished for her the epithet of Buddug, or Buddud; and, perhaps, she is the Boundonica mentioned by Dion Cassius as a Keltic goddess. Probably it was either as a victorious omen, or else in honour of her, that the name of Buddug was given to that fierce chieftainess of the Iceni, whose savage vengeance for her wrongs has won for her a very disproportionate fame, as much changed as her name, when we call it Bonduca, or, more usually, Boadicea. It has not met with much repetition, yet we have heard of a family so patriotic as to contain both Caractacus and Boadicea. Buadhach was, however, long a man’s name in Ireland, and Budhic was one of the early Armorican princes.

Gwion, an unlucky dwarf, destroyed by Ceridwen, seems to have left his name behind him, whether it be as M. Pitre Chevalier explains it, esprit, sense, or be connected with the Welsh gwyth, and Cornish gwg, anger.

Aneurin mentions a knight named Gwiawn as having been slain in the battle of Cattraeth; and Gwion is a knight of Arthur’s court, figuring as Sir Guy among the knights of the Round Table, and furnishing Spenser with his Sir Guyon, the hero of the second ‘Book of Courtesie’ in his Faerie Queen.

Guy has since been a favourite name, but it has become so entangled with the Latin Vitus that it is almost impossible to distinguish the Keltic from the Roman name. It appears to have prevailed in France very early as Guy, Guies, Guyon, in the feminine Guiette; and besides the Sicilian infant martyr, Vitus, obtained two patrons, St. Guy, the Poor Man of Anderlecht, a pilgrim to Jerusalem, who died in 1014; and the Italian, St. Guido, abbot of Pomposa, in Ferrara, who died in 1042. Both lived long after their name had become so popular, that it could not have depended upon them. Queen Matilda, in her Bayeux tapestry, labels as Wido, the Count Guy of Ponthieu, who captured Harold on his ill-starred expedition to Normandy, and thus she evidently does not consider him as Vitus.

Guy and Guido were both fairly frequent with us, until ‘Gunpowder Treason’ gave a sinister association to the sound of Guido Fawkes, and the perpetual celebrations of the 5th of November, with the burning of Guy Fawkes in effigy, have given a meaning to the term of Guy, that will probably continue long after the last tar-barrel has flamed and the last cracker exploded over his doom.

Guido and Guidone were the proper Italian forms, much used in the whole Peninsula, and appearing in Ariosto’s poem in the person of Guidon Selvaggio, a rustic, uncivilized knight. From the sound it was long imagined that the names came either from guide or from guidon, a banner or ensign; but there can be no doubt that either the Keltic Gwion or the Latin Vitus was their true origin.

SECTION II.—Lear and his Daughters.

Geoffrey of Monmouth made the eleventh of his kings, descended from Brute, to be called Leir, and live at Leircester, or Leicester, on the river Sore, somewhere about the time of the prophet Elisha.

He is one of the earliest authorities for the story of Lear and the ungrateful daughters, whom he calls Gonorilla and Regan. He gives the name of Cordeilla to the reserved but faithful daughter who could not pay lip service, but redeemed her father’s kingdom when he was exiled and misused by her flattering sisters. It was a very remarkable conception of character, even thus barely narrated, without the lovely endowments with which we have since learnt to invest the good daughter. The sequel in Geoffrey’s chronicle related, that after his kingdom was restored, old Leir died in peace at Leicester, and was buried by Cordeilla “in a certain vault which she ordered to be made for him under the river Sore, at Leicester, and which had been built originally under the ground to the honour of the god Janus; and here all the workmen of the city, upon the anniversary solemnity of that festival, used to begin their yearly labours.”

He further narrates that Cordeilla was dethroned by her nephews, and committed suicide in despair. To this story adhered both the old ballad-monger and Spenser, in the history studied by Sir Guyon; but Shakespeare loved his sweet Cordelia too well to stain her with self-murder, and, though omitting all allusion to Christianity, made her in all her ways and actions a true Christian, and never perhaps showed more consummate art than in producing so perfect an effect with a person so chary of her words.

Whence did Geoffrey get the story which has produced such fruits?

Lear (gen.), Lir, is the sea. He is also a mythological personage, a god in the elder Irish belief, and father of Mănănnán, the Erse Neptune.

Afterwards, later ballads humanized Lear, and made him the father of Mănănnán, one of the Tuath De Danan, or early conquerors of Ireland, and Lord of the Isle of Man, which is said to be called after him. There is a tradition in Londonderry that his spirit lives in an enchanted castle in the waves of Magilligan, and that his magic ship appears every seventh year. Moreover, the daughters of Mănănnán, granddaughters of Lear, were called Ainè and Aoiffè, and had a desperate quarrel about their husbands' excellence in hunting.

Wales, on its side, shows in the Isle of Anglesea a cromlech, called the tomb of Bronwen, daughter of King Llyr or Leirus. The tomb was opened in 1813, and an ancient urn, once probably containing ashes, was found there. It seems that a somewhat more substantial Llyr lived about the time of the Roman conquest, and was the father of Bronwen, who married the king of Ireland, was ill-treated by him, and received a box on the ear, which was one of the three fatal insults of the Isle of Britain. This lady is very probably the Bronwen of the cromlech; but the conjecture of the Rev. Edward Davies is, that in the story of King Lear, we may have the remains of an ancient myth.

It is certainly remarkable that the notion of Lyr, in connection with turbulent daughters or granddaughters, should be common to both Britain and Ireland. Mr. Davies explains Cordelia to have been originally Creirdyddlydd, the token of the overflowing, also called Creirwy, or the token of the egg. Creir is a token, the sacred article on which a man makes oath, whence it came to mean either a relic or a jewel. Creirdyddlydd might thus be the jewel of the sea, or the token of the flood. At any rate, Creirdyddlydd or Creirwy is a creation of ancient Welsh poetry, once mythical, the daughter of the sea, Llyr or Llud, on which Geoffrey seized for his history. Bronwen, or white bosom, is either another daughter of Lyr, or else Creirdyddlydd under another name, and is supposed to have been the British Proserpine. Both Bronwen and Creirwy are called Gwrvorwyn, man-maid, or virago, and it does not seem impossible that here we see the origin of Cordelia, Regan, and Goneril, as they have been adapted to English pronunciation, the token of the overflowing, the fair bosom, and the virago. Surely these are the daughters of the ocean, rebellious and peaceful. Dynwen, too, is the white wave, the patroness of lovers; and as we shall find by-and-by wave names are remarkably common among the Welsh.

Lear is also called Llwyd, the grey, or the extended, a fitting title for the sea, and which has passed on to form Lloyd, so common as a Welsh Christian and surname, and adopted in England as Floyd.

Creirdyddlydd has due justice done her in the Mabinogion, where we further learn that she remains with her father till the day of doom, and that in the mean time two kings, Gwyn ab Nudd and Gwythir mab Graidiawn, have a battle for her hand on every May-day.

Cordula is set down in Welsh and German calendars on the 22nd of October as one of the 11,000 virgins, her feast following that of St. Ursula. It may be remembered that St. Ursula was said to be Cornish; and that her only recorded companion should bear a Cymric name, is in favour of some shade of foundation for her story. Kordula is in consequence a German name. Kordula was a princess of Lingen in 1473; and Michel and Kordel are two children in German household tradition so constantly falling into mishaps as to have become a proverb for folly.

The Germans fancy Cordula is a diminutive of the Latin cor, a heart; others have wildly made it the feminine of Cordeleo, lion heart, and it has been confused with Delia, the epithet of Diana, from Delos, her birthplace; but Creirdyddlydd is certainly its origin, and remembering that in Welsh d is softened and aspirated by being doubled, is not far from it in sound. Cordelia is hereditary in some Irish families; but is chiefly used for love of Shakespeare’s heroine of filial love.

Bronwen makes her appearance again in the romance of Sir Tristram, under the name of Brengwain, the maid of Yseulte. When the Lady Yseulte was sent from her home in Ireland, under the escort of Tristram, to be married to King Mark, of Cornwall, her mother entrusted a love potion to Brengwain to be given on the wedding night.

Unfortunately, a tempest arose on the voyage, and, in the consequent exhaustion, “Swete Ysonde, the fre, asked Brengwain a drink.” And Brengwain, bringing the magic cup by mistake, caused the fatal passion between Yseulte and the knight.

Even the “hound that was there biside, yclept Hodain,” who licked up the drops that were spilt of the philtre, became attached to the knight and lady with the same magic love.

Bronwen or Brengwain has since been in use as a Welsh female Christian name.

The names of the granddaughters of the Irish King Lear were Aine and Aoidheal, a spark, and their dispute was whose husband was the best hunter. Aine means joy or praise, and also fasting. Friday is Diah-Aoine, or fasting day in Irish. Aine, the daughter of Eogah-hal, was looked on as queen of the fairies of South Munster, and her abode was said to be Cnoc Aine or Knockany, the Hill of Aine, in county Limerick; Aoibhinn was queen of the fairies in Thomond or North Munster; Una, of those in Ormond.

Aine continued to be a favourite name in Ireland for many centuries; but in later times it has become the practice to Anglicize it as Anna and Hannah, and possibly Anastasia, though this may have come more directly from the Greek. In 705 reigned a Scottish king called Ainbhceallach the Good. He is turned by different authors into Arinchellar, Armkelleth, Amberkelletus, etc., and his right one is either joyful war, or agile war, or if with the b, ferocious war. He was too good for his savage people, and was dethroned at the end of a year, and is usually mentioned by the few historians, who name him, as Amberkelleth.

It is evident then that Aine had come to Scotland with other Gaelic names, and it is probable that this is the word that had come forth as Anaple or Annabell in Scotland long before the period of devotion to St. Anne. In 1158 Annabel Fitz Duncan, daughter to Duncan, Earl of Moray, carried the name into the Lucie family; Annabella of Strathern appears in 1244; Annaple Drummond was wife to King Robert III. of Scotland, about 1390; and thenceforth Anaple has been somewhat common in Scotland, while Anabla and Anabella are equally frequent in Ireland, and Annabella is occasionally used in England as Anna made a little finer.

Aoiffe was more generally used than Aine, but most likely is the origin of the Effie of Scotland, now always used as short for Euphemia, though the Highland version of this name is now Aoirig, or Oighrigh. In other places Aoiffe seems to have been turned into Affrica. In the beginning of the twelfth century ‘Affrica,’ daughter of Fergus of Galway, married ‘Olaus’ the Swarthy, King of Man, and her daughter ‘Effrica’ married Somerled, Thane of Argyle and Lord of the Isles, by whose genealogists she seems to have been translated into Rachel. Africa is still used as a female name in the Isle of Man and in Ireland. Aoiffe was the wife of Cuchullin in the Ossianic poetry, and Evir Allin and Evir Coma, properly Aoibhir Aluin and Aoibhir Caomha, the pleasantly excellent and pleasantly amiable, both appear there.

The recognized equivalent for Aoiffe was, however, Eva, beginning almost from the first Christian times, so that, until I found Aoiffe in such unquestionably heathen company as Lear and Mănănnán, I had made up my mind that she was the Gadhaelic pronunciation of our first mother.

Eva is found in the oldest documents extant in Scotland, and high in their genealogies: Eva O'Dwhine carried the blood of Diarmaid to the Anglo-Norman Campbells; Eva of Menteith married one of the first Earls of Lennox; and Alan, the first High Steward of Scotland, married Eve of Tippermuir, and made her the ancestress of the Stuarts; about the same time that the Irish Aoiffe or Eva, for she at least is known to have borne both names, was being wedded to stout Earl Strongbow.

Aevin, or Evin, is occasionally found in the house of Kennedy, but Eveleen is by far the most common form of both names in Ireland, and has held its ground unchanged. Eibhlin in Irish.

To our surprise, however, Aveline or Eveline make their appearance among the Normans long before the marriage of the Earl of Pembroke. Aveline was the name of the sister of Gunnar, the great-grandmother of William the Conqueror; and Aveline or Eveline was so favourite a Norman name that it well suits the Lady of the Garde Douloureuse in the Betrothed. Avelina de Longo-Campo, as the name is Latinized in old chronicles, married the last Earl of Lancaster, and was the mother of that heiress Avelina or Eveline, who, though short-lived and childless herself, carried to her husband, Edmund Crouchback, and the sons of his subsequent marriage, the great county of Lancaster, which made the power of the Red Rose formidable.

Eveline has never been frequent, but was never entirely forgotten in England, (for instance, an Eveline Elstove was baptized in 1539,) and was revived as an ornamental name by Miss Burney’s Evelina. At present it is one of those most in vogue, but it ought not to be spelt with a y, unless it be intended to imitate the surname Evelyn, the old French form of the Latin avellana, a hazel. It was well that the tree-loving author of the Sylva should bear such a surname, and from him and his family, men have frequently been christened by it; but ladies do not follow the old Eveline of song and romance unless they use the true feminine termination.

It is curious that several Keltic names should have come to us with the Normans. They may either have been of the set interchanged with the Northmen at some pre-historical time, or old Keltic ones picked up from the Gallic inhabitants of Neustria, or from the Bretons on the border. In the present case, the latter supposition is the most likely, as the Scandinavians do not seem to have used Eveline. It may of course be after all a diminutive of Eve, but the alternate use of the initial A and E seems to contradict this, and identify it with Aoiffe, daughter of the Irish King Lear.

SECTION III.—Bri.

The root brig, meaning force or strength, is found in many branches of the Indo-European tongues. It is considered to be akin to the Sanscrit virja, strength, and is found in the Greek verb βρίθω (britho), to be heavy, or to outweigh, and the adjective βριαρός (briaros), strong. And thus it named the hundred-handed Titan, whom gods called Briareus, and men Ægeon, and who, in the Titanic revolution, was disposed of either in the Ægean Sea, or under Mount Ætna. Briennios, the surname of some of the eastern emperors, must have come from this root.

In the Keltic tongues it again appears in Irish as bri or brigh, force or valour, and Bryn, height, answering to the Roman virtus (a near connection, as we shall presently see), and the old French word brie, peculiarly expressive of the gay, light Gallic courage, was a now forgotten legacy from the ancient population. Thence came Brenhin, Bren, or Bran, or, as the Romans made it, Brennus, a king or chief—well known for the forays on Italy, and capture of Rome.

Another Brennus was the leader of a division of the great host of Gauls, that, about B.C. 279, came out of Pannonia, and made a backward rush towards the East. One of their bands settled in Asia Minor, and were the parents of the Galatians; but Brennus was less successful. He marched upon Delphi, promising his followers the plunder of the Temple; but was totally defeated by the Delphians; and finding his army destroyed, and himself severely wounded, put an end to his own life.

Next time Bran comes to light, it is altogether in Welsh setting. The Triads and the prolific Genealogy of Welsh Saints, are the authorities for the existence of a prince of that name. Bran the Blessed, the son of Llyr Lledaith, and father of Caradwg, is, we are told, one of the three blessed princes of Britain, having brought home the faith of Christ from Rome, where he had been seven years as a hostage for his son Caradwg, whom the Romans put in prison after being betrayed through the enticement, deceit, and plotting of Cartismandua, or by her Welsh name, Avegwydo Foeddog, the daughter of Avarwy, who betrayed Caswallon. Her act is called by the Triads one of the three secret treasons of Britain.

Now Caradwg is, without a doubt, the Caractacus of Roman history, and the captivity of his family exactly coincides with the time of St. Paul’s first journey to Rome. Moreover, as has been already shown under the head of Aristobulus, there is great reason to consider that Aristobulus, the friend of St. Paul, was the same as the Arwystli, whom the Triads commemorate as among their first missionaries. A farm-house in Glamorganshire, called Trevran, house of Bran, is pointed out as the place where Bran used to reside, and it is near Llanilid, which is considered as the oldest church in Britain.

Such is the British account of the father of Caradwg. The Roman account is, that Cunobelinus was king of the Silures, and husband of Cartismandua, queen of the Brigantes, and was a prosperous and powerful prince in league with the Romans.

Cunobelinus is in like manner a title, though not of man. Cûn is, as will be shown in due time, a chief or lord. Bel or Belin was the Keltic god of light and of war, in whose honour British coins were struck in the heathen days of Bran, whose own name the Romans thought they were reading on his coins. Beli also meant war, and more than one king was called from him.

Bran the Blessed may thus be our old friend Cymbeline, a name repeated in Cornwall, but from literature, not tradition. Cartismandua, or Aregwydd, is the wicked queen, and Caradwg one of the sons.

As to Imogen, the real charm of the play, no British lady either accounts for or explains her name; but in German genealogies we fall upon Imagina of Limburg, in 1400; and there are various other instances of the like, so that Shakespeare may be supposed to have heard of one of them, and adopted her as the heroine of the old story of the deserted and betrayed wife, which he so strangely placed at the court of the last independent British prince. Or Imogen may be a Shakespearian version of Ygnoge, daughter of Pandrasus, emperor of Greece, and wife of Brutus, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth. In Anne of Brittany’s funeral oration, in 1514, her birth was deduced from this last.

Caradwg’s own proper name comes from the same root as the Greek χάρις, grace, and the Latin carus, dear. It means beloved, and has the Breton form Keridak. Caer Caradoc, in Shropshire, retains the name of his camp. He had a worthy namesake in Caradawc Vreichfras, or strong armed, called the pillar of the Kymry, and one of the three battle knights of Britain. Vreichfras means the strong arm, but the French trouveurs rendered it Brise-bras, the wasted arm; and told of an enchanter who fixed a serpent on the knight’s arm, from whose torture nothing could relieve him but that she whom he loved best should undergo it in his stead. His faithful wife offered herself; the serpent was just about to seize on her, when her brother smote off its head with his sword; but her husband thus never recovered the strength of his arm! Others, however, read Vreich-fras as Fer-a-bras, iron arm; and thus, perhaps, from some Breton romance, was one of the Hauteville brothers called William Ferabras. Hence, again, did the French and Italian romancers name their fierce Moorish champion Ferraù, or Ferragus, the same who lost his helmet, and possessed the healing salve, valued by Don Quixote as the balsam of Fierabras!

Caradwg’s wife, Tegan Euvron, or golden beauty, was mentioned by the Triads as one of the three fair ladies and chaste damsels of Arthur’s court, possessing three precious things, of which she alone was worthy,—the mantle, the goblet, and the knife. Later romance and ballad have expanded these into the story of the three tests of the faithful wife; and Sir Caradoc and his lady remain among the prime worthies of the Round Table.

In the twelfth century a saint named Caradwg retired from the world in disgust at the violence shown to him by his master, Rhys, prince of South Wales, on learning the loss of two greyhounds that had been in Caradwg’s charge. He lived in various hermitages in Wales and left a well in the parish of Haroldstone, called by his name. Moreover, soon after his death, he was said to have suddenly closed his hand, in frustration of the designs of the historian, William of Malmsbury, who wanted to cut off his little finger for a relic. Our insular saints were decidedly of Shakespeare’s opinion, and had no desire to have their ‘bones moved’ or be made relics of.

Caradwg, Caradoc, and Keriadek continue to be used in Wales, Scotland, and Brittany.

Cara, friend, was sometimes prefixed to a saint’s name by the Christian Gael, as Cara Michil, friend of St. Michael, as the name of his devout client, and thus arose such surnames as Carmichael.

This pursuit of Cymbeline and his family has carried us far from Bran the Blessed. Under this, his proper name, he stands forth in old Welsh, romance as the original importer of the Sanc-greal. One very old and wild version says that King Bran brought from Ireland a magic vessel, given him by a great black man in Ireland, which healed wounds and raised the dead.

In the twelfth century the Sanc-greal had assumed its Christian character, and Bran the Blessed, as the first Christian prince of Britain, was said to have received it from St. Joseph of Arimathea, and guarded it to the end of his life. No wonder, therefore, that Brittany loved and honoured his name.

Bran was a Pictish prince, killed in 839, in battle with the Danes, and it is highly probable that St. Birinus, the Keltic apostle of Wessex, was another form of Bran.

Brian has been from very old times a favourite Christian name in both Brittany and Ireland, the first no doubt from the Christian honours of the blessed Bran, the second from the source whence he was named.

The great glory of Brian in Ireland was in the renowned Brian Boromhe, King of Leinster, or of the tribute, so called from the tribute, once shaken off by Ulster, but which he re-imposed. He defeated the Danes in twenty-five battles, and finally was slain in the great battle of Clontarf, on the Good Friday of 1014. Around that battle has centered a wonderful amount of fine legendary poetry on both sides.

Brian, or Bryan, is a very frequent Christian name, but according to the usual lot of its congeners, has an equivalent, i. e. Bernard, chiefly in Ulster, with which it has not the most distant connection.

Brien was always a favourite in Brittany, and is very common as a surname with the peasantry there. The Bretons, who joined in the Norman conquest, imported it to England. Two landholders, so called, are recorded in Domesday Book; and during the first century of Norman rule it was far more common than at present, when it is considered as almost exclusively Irish. Some of our older etymologists have been beguiled into deriving it from the French bruyant, noisy.

The feminine Brennone is given in German dictionaries, but it, as well as Brennus, are there derived from old German, and explained as protection, which is clearly a mistake.

Brieuc was a Breton saint; Breasal was once common in Ireland, and survives in a few families, but is generally turned into Basil, and sometimes to Brazil, in which shape the Manxmen frequently bore it.

Brîgh or strength, is the most satisfactory explanation of Brighid, the daughter of the fire-god, and the goddess of wisdom and song, skill and poetry.

Cormac, king and bishop of Cashel, explains the word as a ‘fiery dart;’ but this looks like one of the many late and untrustworthy interpretations of Keltic names.

Brighid was always a favourite female name in Ireland, and has become one of the very few Keltic ones of European popularity. This was owing to a maiden who was brought up by a bard, and afterwards became a pupil of St. Patrick; and from a solitary recluse at Kildare, rose to be the head of five hundred nuns, and was consulted by the synod of bishops. She died in 510, and after her death, a copy of the Gospels was found in her cell, too beautiful to have been written by mortal hand, “with mystical pictures in the margent, whose colours and workmanship were, at first blush, dark and unpleasant, but in the view marvellously lively and artificiall.”

It was long kept at Kildare, and a little hand-bell, such as was much used by the Irish missionaries, and which had belonged to her, and was, therefore, called Clogg Brighde, or Bridget’s Bell, was exhibited to the devout, in both England and Ireland, until it was suppressed by a prohibition from Henry V., perhaps, because it tended to keep up a national spirit.

She was one of the patron saints of Ireland, and was regarded with such devotion, both there and in Scotland, that children were baptized as her servants, Maol Brighde, Giollabrid; and to the present day, hers is the favourite name in Ireland.

St. Bride’s churches are common, both in England and Scotland, and the village of Llanaffraid, in Wales, records her in her Welsh form of Ffraid. Bridewell was once the palace of St. Bride, and after its conversion into a prison, spread its sinister name to other like buildings. The Portuguese believe themselves to possess the head of St. Bridget at Lisbon, and have accordingly more than one Doña Brites among their historical ladies.

Sweden has also a St. Bridget, or rather Brigitta; but her name is in her own tongue Bergljot, shortened to Berglit, and then confounded with the Irish Bridget. It unfortunately means mountain-fright, or guardian defect, though German antiquaries have twisted both Bridgets into Beraht Gifu, bright gift. Be that as it may, the Swedish Brigitta was a lady of very high birth, who, in her widowhood, founded an order of Brigittin nuns, somewhere about 1363, made a pilgrimage to Rome, and was greatly revered for her sanctity. She named the very large class of Norwegian, German, and Swedish Bridgets or Berets, who are almost as numerous as the Irish.

┌───────────────┬───────────────┬───────────────┬───────────────┐ │ English. │ Irish. │ Scotch. │ French. │ │Bridget │Brighid │ Bride │Brigitta │ │Bride │Biddy │ │ │ ├───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┤ │ Italian. │ Portuguese. │ Swedish. │ German. │ │Brigida │Brites │Brigitta │Brigitta │ │Brigita │ │Brita │ —————————— │ │ │ │Begga │ Esth. │ │ │ │Bergliot │Pirrit │ │ │ │Beret │ │ ├───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┤ │ Lusatian. │ Lettish. │ Lith. │ Lapp. │ │Brischia │Britte │Berge │Pirket │ │Brischa │Birte │Berzske │Pikka │ │ │Pirre │ │Pikke │ └───────────────┴───────────────┴───────────────┴───────────────┘

SECTION IV.—Fear, Gwr, Vir.

The free days of the Kelt were fast ending. He fell before Roman discipline, though not without a worthy struggle.

In Cisalpine Gaul, Marcellus and Scipio themselves found Britomartus, or Viridomarus, king of the Boii, so worthy an antagonist that Marcellus, having slain him in single fight, dedicated his spolia opima in the temple of Jupiter Feretrius. In Spain, a Lusitanian hunter or shepherd, named Viriathus, carried on a guerilla warfare with the Roman legions for fourteen years. In Gaul, Cæsar mentions Virdumarus among his allies the Æduans, and says that their chief magistrate was termed vergobretus, and among his enemies, the Unelli and Arverni, he records Viridovix, Vergosillanus, and Vercingetorix.

The last chieftain was one of the most gallant men who struggled in vain against the eagles.

However, our concern is chiefly with his name. In fact, these Virs of Cæsar might have been placed in our preceding division, for they are from the same root, bri, or force, and still more resemble the Sanscrit virja, as well as the Latin virtus and vir. Exactly answering to vir, though coming in an independent stream from the same source, the Gaelic man is fear, plural fir; the Cymric is gwr, gen. gyr, plural wyr. Again, valour or virtue is in Welsh gwyrth, and gwr is the adjective for excelling.

Thus there can be no reasonable doubt, that the ver or vir of the Latin version of these Keltic heroes was a rendering of the fear of the Gael, or of the gwr of the Cymry, both not infrequent commencements; and the double name of the hero of Cisalpine Gaul, Viridomarus, or Britomartus, brings us back to the original root. It may be that Britomartus referred to his great strength.

Vergobretus, the magistrate of the Ædui, is explained either as Fear-co-breith, man who judges, or War-cy-fraith, man placed over the laws; or, taking gwr as excelling, and brawd, as justice, he would be excelling in justice.

Viriathus must be referred to fear, man, and, perhaps, to aodh, fire.

Vercingetorix himself may be translated into Fear-cuin-cedo-righ, man who is chief of a hundred heads; and his cousin, Vergosillanus, is the man either of the banner or the spear, according as sillanus is referred to saighean, a banner, or to saelan, a spear.

Here, then, are the tokens of kindred between the Gauls of the continent and the Gael of our islands, for Fear, the frequent commencement in both Ireland and Scotland, is assuredly the word that Cæsar rendered by Vir, more correctly both in sense and sound than he knew.

Fearghus, man-deed, from gus, a deed, is the rendering of one of the most national of Gaelic names, though Macpherson makes it Fearguth, man of the word.

Bold genealogists place Feargus at the head of the line of Scottish kings, and make him contemporary with Alexander the Great. Another Fergus was son of Finn, and considered as even a greater bard than his nephew, Oisean. Poems said to be by him are still extant, in one of which he describes his rescue of his brother, Oisean, who had been beguiled into a fairy cave, and there imprisoned, till he discovered himself to his brother by cutting splinters from his spear, and letting them float down the stream that flowed out of the place of his captivity.

Fearghus, the son of Erc, a Dalriad prince, was, in 493, blessed by St. Patrick, and led the great migration of Scots to Albin, together with his brothers Loarn and Aonnghus, who each named their own district, while he reigned over the whole region of the Scots,—that around Argyle; whither he had transported the stone of dominion, that sooner or later brought conquest to the race who possessed it. From these Fearghus or Farghy in Ireland, Fergus in Scotland, and the feminine Fergusiana still continue in use.

Fearachar is another Scottish form. Ferquard is given as prince of the Scots in Ireland, at some incalculable time; and Fearchur or Ferchar was the king of the Scots just after St. Columbus' death. He is Latinized as Ferquardus; and this was the name of an Earl of Ross in 1231; and as Farquhar has continued in favour in the Highlands. Feardorcha is the blind man. Fardorougha is an incorrect modernism, and Ferdinand and Frederick the supposed equivalent.

Gwr, or Wr, is the Cymric form of the same word, and the parallel to Fergus among the Picts was Wrguist, or Urguist, a prince who lived about 800, and whose daughter was called after him, married the Scottish Eacha or Fergusiana, and thus led to the union of the two races under her descendant, Kenneth MacAlpin.

Gwrtigearn, excelling king, is a Silurian prince of doubtful fame. Through Latinism we know him as Vortigern. It would seem that when the usurpation of Maximus had involved the Roman empire in confusion, and left Britain without any legions to defend it against the robber nations round, that he made some attempt at a partial revival of national spirit; but, failing this, entered into a treaty with the Anglo-Saxon invaders, and was thought to have betrayed the cause of his country.

What these doings were is another matter. We all know the romantic history of Vortigern’s letter to Henghist and Horsa; of his visit to the Saxon camp; of Rowena and her cup; of the Isle of Thanet marked out by strips of cow-hide; and of the treachery of the Saxons at Stonehenge. There is nothing morally impossible in the story as it was dished up for modern history, and it used to satisfy our ancestors before they had found out that a small king on the Welsh border could hardly have dealt with Thanet, and, moreover, that the Teutonic immigration had been going on for many years past on the eastern coast.

As to the cow-hide and the massacre, they are said to be old Thuringian traditions; and the Welsh seem to have either invented or preserved the story of the fascinations of Rowena. At any rate, they named her; for, alas for Saxon Rowena, there is nothing Teutonic in the word, and the Kymric form Rhonwen, white skirt, betrays its origin. Rhonwen, or Bradwen, is the name by which she is called in the Gododin, a poem ascribed to the bard Aneurin, and, perhaps, containing some germs of truth, though its connection with the Stonehenge massacre is hotly disputed.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

III. GAELIC NAMES

SECTION I.—Scottish Colonists.

The strange and wild beliefs that prevailed regarding the original settlement of ancient Ireland, have left strong traces on the names still borne by the population, both there and in Scotland.

We need not go back quite to Adam’s great-grandson, and the wicked race that sprang from him, and all perished, except one giant, who took up his abode in a cave, and there lived till he was baptized by St. Patrick; nor to Fintan, who was changed into a salmon during the time that the flood prevailed, and afterwards gave rise to the proverb, “I could tell you many things were I as old as Fintan.” A bard, so called, was said to have existed, and a poem is attributed to him, which gives a very queer account of the first settlers, though he does not there claim quite such a startling experience.

Fomorians, Fir Bolg, men dwelling in caves, or, more probably, ravaging men, and Tuath De Danan, i.e. chiefs, priests, and bards, are all conducted in turn to Erin by tradition and poetry; but none equal in fame or interest the tribe called Milesian, from whom the purest Irish blood is supposed to descend.

The favourite legends start this famous colony from the East, where Phenius, the head of the family, was supposed to have taught the Phœnicians letters, and left them his name! His son, Niul, not to be behindhand with him, named the Nile, having been sent on an embassy to Egypt, where he married Pharaoh’s daughter! Whether her name was Scota or not, authorities are not agreed; but all declare that it was her father who was drowned in the Red Sea, and that a subsequent dispute with the Egyptians caused either Niul or his son to migrate to Spain.

It is this Niul, or Niale, to whom the whole legion of Niales are to be referred. The name, from niadh, means a champion, and was probably carried backwards to the ancestor from the various Neills, who thought they might as well claim the Nile as their namesake.

Neill of the Nine Hostages, was one of the greatest of the ancient heroes; he was the last but one of the pagan kings of Ireland, and himself most unconsciously imported the seed of the Gospel, for it was his men who, in a piratical descent on the Roman colony of Valentia, carried off the boy who, in after days, was to become the Apostle of Ireland,—one of the many slaves by whom the Gospel has been extended. Neill of the Nine Hostages was killed by an assassin about the year 405; but his family, the Hy Neill, or children of Neill, became one of the leading septs in the North of Ireland. Of them the story is told, that on going to settle on the Ulster coast, one of them resolved to take seisin of the new country by touching the shore before any one else, and finding his boat outstripped, he tore out his dagger, cut off his right hand at the wist, and threw it on the beach, so that his fingers were the first laid on the domain. Such, at least, is the tale that accounts for the O'Neill’s war-cry, Lamhdearg Aboo (Red hand set on), and for the red hand on the shield of the O'Neills and of Ulster, afterwards given by James I. to the knights baronets, whom he created as ‘undertakers’ of the new colony of English, which he wished to found in Ulster.

Ireland thus frequently used Neill, or Niall, and Scotland Niel, as it is there spelt, but it is far more surprising to meet with it among the Scandinavian races. It is evidence that there must have been some considerable intercourse between Ireland and the North before the days of the piracies of the historical ages. The old Irish legends constantly speak of Norway as Lochlinn, or the land of lakes, and show visits taking place between the inhabitants; and there are names to be found in both countries, borrowed from one another, too far back to be ascribed to the Norse invasions.

In the Landnama Bok, the Domesday Book of Iceland, no less than three Njals appear, and the Njalssaga, the history of the noble-spirited yet peaceful Icelander, who, even in the tenth century, had never shed blood, and preferred rather to die with his sons than to live to avenge them, is one of the finest histories that have come down to us from any age. Njal’s likeness to the contraction Nils, has caused many to suppose that it also is a form of Nicolas, but the existence of Nial both in Ireland and Iceland before the conversion of either country contradicts this. Nielsen is a frequent Northern patronymic, and our renowned name of Nelson probably came to us through Danish settlers.

The Northmen apparently took their Njal to France with them, and it there was called Nesle or Nêle. Chroniclers Latinized it as Nigellus, supposing it to mean black; and in Domesday book, twelve landholders called Nigellus appear, both before and after the Conquest, so that they may be supposed to be Danish Niels, left undisturbed in their possessions.

Nigel de Albini, brother to him who married the widow of Henry I., must have been a genuine Norman Niel; and through the numerous Anglo-Norman nobles who were adopted into the Scottish peerage, this form was adopted in addition to the old Gaelic Nial, or as a translation of it, for the young brother of Robert Bruce is called by both names, Nigel and Nial. At present this Latinized Normanism of the old Keltic word is considered as peculiarly Scottish, chiefly because it has been kept up in that form in old Scotch families.

Fergus, Loarn, and Aonghus are said to have been the three brothers who led the migration from Erin to Caledonia, and transferred the name of Scotland from one isle to the other in 503, and Loarn and Angus gave their names to two districts in Scotland.

Anguss was indeed a popular name both in Scotland and Ireland. It comes from the numeral aon, one; it also conveys the sense of pre-eminence, means excellent strength, and it is generally pronounced Haoonish in Gaelic. Irish genealogists make Aongus Turimheach king two hundred and thirty-three years before the Christian era; and we are afterwards told of another Aongas, king of Munster, who had a family of forty-eight sons and daughters, of whom he gave half to St. Patrick to be monks and nuns. In Hanmer’s Chronicle, King Arthur visits Ireland and converses with King Anguish, which painful title is precisely that which Henry VIII., in his correspondence, gives his brother-in-law, the Earl of Angus.

Angus is specially at home in Scotland, but there it has been called Hungus and Ungus, likewise Enos, and is now generally translated into Æneas, the christened name of many a Scot who ought to be Angus; and the Irish are too apt to change it in the same way.[97]

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Footnote 97:

Hanmer, Chronicle; Ossianic Society’s Transactions; Taylor, Hist. of Ireland; Dasent, Nialsaga; Highland Society’s Dictionary; Ellis, Domesday Book.

SECTION II.—The Feen.

A remarkable cycle of traditions are cherished by the Gaelic race regarding a band of heroes, whom they call the Fiann, or Fenians, and whose exploits are to them what those of Jason, or Theseus, were to the Greeks.

Scotland and Ireland claim them both alike, and point to places named after them and their deeds; but the balance of probability is in favour of Ireland, as their chief scene of adventure, although they may also have spent some time in Morven, as their legends call the West of Scotland, since the Gaelic race was resident in both countries, and kept together in comparative union by its hatred to the Cymry in both. This supposition is confirmed by the semblance of a date that is supplied through the conversion of the last survivor of the band by St. Patrick, which would place their era in the end of the fourth century, just when the migrations of the Scots were taking place, supposing these to have lasted from about A.D. 250 to 500. Still, the Fian may be only one of the ancient imaginations of the Gael, and either never have had any corporeal existence at all, or else, genuine ancient myths may have fixed themselves upon some forefathers, who under their influence have been magnified into heroic—not to say gigantic—proportions.

These tales, songs, and poems lived among the story-telling Highlanders and Irish, unnoticed, until the eighteenth century, when the Scottish author, James Macpherson, perceived that they contained a mine of wild beauty and heroic deeds, and were, in fact, the genuine national poetry of his race.

He put his fragments together into the books of an epic, and wrought up the measured metre of the Gaelic into a sort of stilted English prose, rhythmical, and not without a certain grandeur of cadence and expression; moreover, he left out a good deal of savagery, triviality, repetition, and absurdity; and produced an exceedingly striking book, by expanding the really grand imagery of the ancient bards, and, perhaps, unconsciously imparting Christian heroism to his characters.

There had been some unscrupulousness from the first. Either from nationality or ignorance, Macpherson had entirely ignored the connection with St. Patrick, and made his heroes altogether Scottish, though passing into Ireland; and when a swarm of critics arose, some questioning, some mocking, he did not make a candid statement of what were his materials, but left the world to divide itself between the beliefs that the whole was Ossian’s, or the whole Macpherson’s. Had he been truthful, he would have gained high credit, both as poet and antiquary; but he brought on himself the reputation of an impostor, his literary talents have been forgotten, and the poems themselves are far less regarded than they deserve.

Be the truth what it may, the names of the Fianna were in constant use long before Macpherson was heard of.

In Ireland and West Scotland, the early poems represent Finn and his friends performing high feats of prowess.

Finally, the Feen either invaded Ireland, or became obnoxious to the natives, and were set upon at the battle of Garristown, or Gabhra, pronounced Gavra, loud shouting. The last survivor of them was the poet Oisean, or Ossian, as he is now called, who was said to have lived till the coming of St. Patrick, and to have been taken into his monastery, where old Irish poems show him in most piteous case, complaining much of fasts, and of the “drowsy sound of a bell.”

SECTION III.—Finn.

Leader of the Fianna, and bestowing on them their very title, stands the great Fion, the grand centre of ancient Gaelic giant lore; his full title being Fionn Mac Cumhail, pronounced Coul. Fingal, the name the Scots have known him by ever since the time of Barbour, is really a confusion of Faingall, the toilers of the Gaul.

There is no doubt of the meaning of fion. It is the same with the Cymric Gwynn, or Wynn, and like them signifies white, fair, or clear, as in the name of Lough Fyne.

One very remarkable feature in the history of Finn is that the same meaning of white attaches to it in ancient or poetical Scandinavian, though not in the other Teutonic languages; nor is the name found in any Teuton nation but the northern ones, except that in the Saxon chronicle, Finn is Odin’s fourth forefather, whereas he is his grandfather in the Edda.

In the great Anglian poem of Beowolf, Finn is king of the Frisians, but is conquered by the Danes, strangely enough, under Henghist; another poem, called the Battle of Finnsburh, records the strife—Finn lost half his kingdom, but the next year he killed Henghist; then being set upon by the other Danes, lost his crown and life. It is likely that, old as the poem is, it has been much altered, and that it really existed before the Anglian colonization of our island; indeed, there is reason to suppose that it was in memory of the burgh of this Frisian Finn, that Finsbury manor in the city of London acquired its name.

Finn is a giant in Norway, compelled by the good Bishop Laurence to erect the church at Lund, after which he was turned into stone by way of payment, wife, child, and all, as may still be seen. Again in Denmark as a trolld, he did the same service for Esbern Snare, building Kallundborg church, on condition that if his name was not guessed by the time the church was finished, his employer should become his property. As in the German tale of Rumpel Stitzchen, the danger was averted by the victim, just in time, overhearing this amiable lullaby in the hole of a rock—

“Be still, my babe, be still, To-morrow comes thy father Finn, Esbern’s heart and eyes for a toy thou shalt win.”

Next morning Esbern saluted Finn by his name, as he was bringing the last half-pillar, whereupon he flew away, pillar and all, wherefore the church only stands to this day on three pillars and a half!

Finn alone, and in combination, is rather a favourite in the North. The Landnama-bok, which gives the Icelandic genealogies from the settlements there in the ninth century down to the middle of the thirteenth, has five men named Finnr, two, Finni, and three ladies called Finna; and in the three countries in the, mainland it has been equally common, even to comparatively recent times, when Finn Magnusson was one of the chief authorities for Scandinavian antiquities. Among the compounds of the name, the Swedes have Finngaard, which their pronunciation contrives to make sound like Fingal, with what is called the “thick l;” and in modern times it is so spelt in allusion to Macpherson’s hero. The name Finnketyl, or Finnkjell, with the feminine Finnkatla, is explained as the cauldron or vessel of some semi-divine Finn. Kettles are rather common in the North, but almost always belong to some divinity of high rank. Finn has his weapons, as Finnbogi, or Finbo, a white bow; Finngeir, a white spear; his sport, as Finleik, white game or reward; his forest, as Finnvidr, or white wood; as well as his guardianship, as Finn-vardr, or white ward, all represented in northern nomenclature, in a manner analogous to those of the national deities.

All this makes it highly probable that Finn was an idea borrowed from the Gael by the Norsemen, especially as the hammer of Thor is sometimes to be heard in Scottish legend resounding in the hand of Finn. Fionn is still a name in Ireland, but in English is translated into Albany; and in Scotland Fionnlaoch, white soldier, has become Finlay.

There are many other Keltic names connected with Finn in the sense of white, such as Finghin, or the fair offspring, which became Finian or Fineen; and as such was the name of two saints, one a friend of St. Patrick, and that teacher of St. Columb, who, when Columb had written out the Psalms from a book lent by him, claimed the copy on the plea that it was the offspring of his manuscript. Nevertheless, St. Columb took care that St. Finan should be duly revered in Scotland, where he has various churches, and one royal namesake, for probably he was the real original of the Finnan, whose reign is placed B.C. 134. Another St. Finghin is patron of Ulster, and left his name to be a favourite in the families of M'Carthy, O'Sullivan, and O'Driscoll, until Finghin M'Carthy Anglicized himself as Florence, in which he has ever since been imitated by his countrymen, though the change did not bring him much good fortune, as his enemies represented that his alias showed sinister intentions; and for other more definite misdeeds, he was thirty-six years imprisoned in the Tower of London. It was a mistake in Lady Morgan to make Florence M'Carthy a woman, for Florence and Flory in Ireland were always men. We do find a Florence mentioned as contemporary with St. Patrick; but this is doubtless meant as a translation of Finghin.

The ladies, however, have not been behindhand in spoiling their derivative from Fionn. Fionn-ghuala, or white shoulder, was a tough-looking name enough, though no one need complain of it as Finnuala, as it actually is spoken, still less as Fenella. Early Keltic maidens used it frequently, and it is found in all manner of shapes in genealogies. In the clouds at the opening of Scottish history, we find Fynbella, or Finella, recorded as the cruel Lady of Fettercairn, who, in 994, killed King Kenneth III.

Another Fynbella was Lady of the Mearns in 1174; Finvola is found in the M'Leod pedigree twice in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The Macdonnells called her Finwald in 1497. Finvola and Finola thickly stud the Irish pedigrees; and it was perfectly correct in Scott to make Fenella the name of the little wild dumb sprite, whom he placed in the Isle of Man as a daughter of the house of Christian. In almost all its original homes, however, Fenella has been discarded, having been ousted by its supposed equivalent, Penelope (a weaver), and only in a few Irish families is it still retained, and then in the form of Nuala. In Scotland it has turned into the well-known Flora or Florie.

The other feminine forms of Finn have entirely passed away. They were Finbil and Finscoth, white blossom and white flower, answering to the Blanche-fleur of Romance, which it is possible was really meant as a translation; Findelvh, fair countenance; Finnabhor, of the fair eyelids; Finni, the fair; and Findath, fair colour.

SECTION IV.—Cu, Cun, Gal.

We have treated the name of Fionn alone, because that is, comparatively, plain sailing, while the second syllable of the name by which we call him is beset with interminable perplexities.

If he was only Fingal, it would be easy enough to translate him by ‘white courage;’ but unluckily we know that this was a Lowland contraction, used indeed in Barbour’s Bruce, in the fourteenth century, but not the original form. He was Finn Mac Cumhail; or, according to Hector Boece, in 1526, Finn, filius Cœli, Finn, the son of Heaven; thus making him—as every mythic worthy from Hercules to Arthur has been made—an astronomical parable.

In the first place, it may be observed that Cumhail is in pronunciation nothing but Coul, or Coyl. That murderous letter h has destroyed the m, and itself into the bargain, and their only use is to testify to what the etymology of the word has been.

Here we unite with the other branch of the language in a most curious manner, for Col, Coel, or Coll, was a highly mythic personage in Kymric legend, connected with the original population of Britain.

He is one of the three great swineherds of Britain, in the Triads, the other two being Pwll and Tristram; also, he is one of those who conferred benefits upon Britain, and appears in company with Hu Gadarn.

The title of the swineherd is accounted for in the Welsh tale of a sow called Henwen, the old lady, who was placed under his charge, and came swimming straight for Britain, with Coll holding by her bristles, wherever she swam. There were predictions that Britain would suffer harm from her progeny, and Arthur therefore collected his forces to oppose her landing; but at Aber Tarrogi she came to the shore, and at Wheatfield in Gwent she laid three grains of wheat and three bees, whence corn and honey are the great pride of the district. At Dyved she produced a barleycorn and a pig, to the subsequent benefit of Dyved beer and bacon. She favoured Lleyn with rye, but on Snowdon she bestowed the wolf and the eagle, and on Mona a kitten.

Without going back, like Mr. Davies, to make the sow either into the ark, or a Phœnician ship, it is worth observing that there are traces in Ireland of some pig myth. There is a famous poem called The Hunting of the Pig, resulting in its being slain at Muckamore; and muc, a pig, and torc, a boar, are constantly found in old names of places, as if the swine cult had been of a higher kind than that at present received by the species.

Not wholly substantial is the next British Coel-ap-Cyllin, who with Bran the Blessed, and his own son Lleurig, makes up a triad of promoters of Christianity in Britain.

We are scarcely sure of more than his existence; not quite that he left his name to Colchester, and far less that he is the father of the Empress Helena, the mother of Constantine.

Col or Gall was the name of a companion of St. Columbanus, and, like him, one of the great missionary saints of Ireland, who finished the imperfect work of conversion of the Kelts, scattered in the borders of France, Germany, and Switzerland. His name of St. Gall is still attached to the great monastery near the Lake of Constance.

The prefix cu is, in its primary meaning, a dog, and is thus declined: cu (nom.), con (gen.), coin (dat.); thus showing its kindred with the Sanscrit çvan, Greek κυων (cyon), and Latin canis, the chien of France, and cane of Italy; hund and hound elsewhere. Only the land of the magnificent wolf-hound would have made his designation (elsewhere a term of scorn) into the title of the brave warrior, and thence into that of a chieftain. And so again it is the Kelts of Britain that transmuted the mungoose and snake of the Indian legend into the faithful dog and wild wolf of Bedgelert, the grave of the hound. Caleb, and an occasional Danish Hund, have alone elsewhere endured the name of the most faithful of animals; but in Gaelic it is a most favourite prefix. By the author of the Annals of Ulster, it is literally translated Canis, making us wonder whether, in the Scala family, Cane, so famous in Dante’s time, could have been a rendering of some ancient Celtic Cu.

Conn, when standing alone, as in the case of Conn of the Hundred Battles, means wisdom.

Several of the most distinguished Fenians have this prefix, and have handed it on to a great number of successors. Conghal would seem to have been the proper name of Finn’s father; and, in Macpherson’s poem, a Congal reigns over Ulster, as many a Congal assuredly did both before and after his time.

Connal, or Connel, a name sometimes said to mean friendship, is given to one of the Ossianic heroes, who makes a great figure in Macpherson’s epic, and is said to have named Tirconnel. The name continued in great favour, and the popular tales of the Highlands describe a certain ingenious Conall, whose adventures are a most curious mixture of those of Ulysses and Sindbad the Sailor, and are related in the same way as those of the Three Calenders and other worthies in the Arabian Nights. History says that Congal Claen, king of Ulster, slew Suibne, king of Ireland, but was then attacked and defeated by Domnall II., Suibne’s successor; that he then fled to Donald-brec, or the Freckled, king of the Scots, and brought him to Ireland to be defeated at Magrath, in 637. An Irish saint, called Congal, founded the Great Abbey of Ben-chor, in Ulster, answering to Ban-chor, in Wales, and thus formed the nursery of the great missions of the Irish Church in the sixth century.

Conan of small renown, as Macpherson calls him, was an unfortunate Fenian, who always served as the butt of the rest, and is called in other legends Conan Maol, the bald. He is in character a good deal like the Sir Kay of Arthur’s court. The M'Connans now have borrowed the English names of Kenyon and Canning. His name comes to light in the Cymric branch, in the person of the British Conan, or Kynan Meriadech, who is said to have led a migration of Britons to Armorica, and to be the patriarch of the Dukes of Brittany. Of him is told the pretty tale of the spotless ermine, that took refuge under his shield, and was spared by him, its skin thenceforth forming the cognizance of Brittany, with the motto, Malò mori quàm fœdari.

He is also said to have been the intended husband of St. Ursula; and, at any rate, suggested the name of many a Conan among the Breton princes, until the father of the unfortunate Constance, a name very possibly given as a supposed feminine to Conan, since Constantine has devoured all manner of varieties of cu and con, and thus occasions the numerous occurrences of this imperial designation as labels to the grim portraits in the hall at Holyrood, who, after all, look more like Roman Constantines than Caledonian Congals, Conaires, or Conchobars.

Connchobhar is also translated as Cornelius and Charles. Here conn means strength, and cobhair, aid, or if the spelling ought to be Conchobhar, it would be wolf-dog aid, and it is a word as variously rendered by those who wish to retain its native form as by those who try to change it into an ordinary name. Macpherson calls it Conachar, and thence we have the assumed name of the unfortunate young chieftain whom Sir Walter Scott placed in the deadly fight between Clan Chattan and Clan Kay, to exemplify the struggle between constitutional timidity and fear of shame. Conchabhar, who reigned in Scotland in 847, and Cunechat or Conquhare, who was Maormar of Angus in the tenth century, are both forms of Connchobhar, which in the North-East of Ireland is vulgarly called Crogher and Crohoore. The last is said to be the best representation of the spoken word; but Connor is the usual version, and much the most euphonious to English ears; but then it is said also to represent Connaire, one endowed with strength, aire being a word added to form an adjective, and Conmor, also in use in the days of the Fenians. Indeed, Ireland had many royal Connors, one dignified as the Great; but Conchobar. Conmor, and Connaire, are all confused in them.

Constantine is used in the Maguire family as a rendering of Cú Connacht, the hound of Connaught; Munster’s hound is Cú Mumhan; Cashel’s, Cú Chaisil. The river Shannon has Cú Sionnan; the mountain has Cú-sleibhe; and, strangest of all, there is Cugan-mathair, hound without a mother. Cú-Mhidhe, hound of Meath, is simply pronounced Cooey; but in the O'Kane family has been turned into Quentin, and it may be concluded that a similar process in Scotland changed the hound of Meath into the Latin fifth, and accounts for the various Quentins.

Meath Cuchullin is the name of the hero with which Macpherson’s epic opens: “Cuchullin sat by Tara’s wall, by the tree of the rustling leaf.” His name is explained in the note, to mean, the voice of Ullin or Ulster; Gath Ullin, voice of Ulster; but Ullin does not mean Ulster at all. It was not the hero’s original name; but when young he killed a wolf-hound belonging to Culain, the smith of Ulster. He answered the owner’s complaints by saying, “I will be your hound,” and thus obtained the nickname of Cú Culain, Culain’s dog. Cuchullin was a great hero, and a Gaelic proverb, “as strong as Cuchullin,” is still in use. To Cuchullin belongs the Keltic version of the story of the single combat between the unknown father and son, only recognized too late by the tokens left with the mother. In Persia and Ireland the son is killed; in Greece, the father; in Germany alone the conclusion is happy!

As to the MacCuinns, they have dignified themselves as MacQueen in Scotland, while their cousins in Ireland from O'Cuinn have become Quin.

SECTION V.—Diarmaid and Graine.

Of all the heroes of the Feen, Diarmaid, whose name means free man, was one of the most distinguished, and though not brought in by Macpherson, his legend bears the same sort of relation to the main cycle, as does the story of Orlando to the Court of Charlemagne, or that of Lancelot to the Round Table.

Grainne was the daughter of Cormac MacArt, king of the fifth part of Ulster, who built at Tara for her the Grianan of one pillar, or royal palace. She was a lady of extremely quick wit, and gained the heart of Fionn by her answers to a series of questions, which tradition still preserves.

Fionn met with the usual fate of uncles in romance, for his nephew, Diarmaid, fell in love with her too, and was the more irresistible, as he had a beauty spot, which made every woman who saw it fall in love with him. The young pair fled away together, and there is an extremely long poem on their adventures and mutual affection, but fate at length overtook Diarmaid. A great hunting took place, at which all the Feen were present; in the course of which they came on the track of a venomous boar, whose back was sixteen feet long, and soon after they found some shavings of wood made by Diarmaid in cutting out dishes with his knife. Having thus discovered his retreat, Fionn summoned his rival, and commanded him to join in the hunt, in hopes that he would thus meet his death; but Diarmaid killed the animal without receiving damage. Fionn then remembered that Diarmaid, like Achilles and Siegfried, had a fatal spot in his foot, and desired him to measure the boar by pacing it against the hair. One of the bristles went into the fatal spot, and Diarmaid fell dying; he asked for some water, and Fionn was bringing him some from the stream between his hands, when he thought on Grainne, and let it run through. Diarmaid died, and his corpse was brought home to his wife, whose lamentation is given as a separate poem. Diarmaid was also called Doun, the brown, and the clan descended from him were the O'Duine. The heiress of this line, Aoiffe or Eva, married Gillaspick Campbell, of an Anglo-Norman family, and Campbell has ever since been the Lowland surname of the great clan; but in the North they are still the sons of Diarmid; and their crest, the boar’s head, is in memory of the fatal hunting.

Diarmaid continued in use both in Scotland and Ireland; and in historical times it was Diarmaid, king of Leinster, who acted the part of Paris, and ruined his country by the abduction of Dervorgil of Meath; and then, when forced by the superior king to give up the lady, revenged himself by calling in Earl Strongbow and the English.

Diarmid, or, as it is commonly called, Dermot or Darby, is still common among the Irish. Where the saying about Darby and Joan arose, I cannot discover. Darby is the form of Diarmid in Limerick and Tipperary; Jeremiah, strange to say, is used for it in Cork and Kerry. Napoleon, in his enthusiasm for the Ossianic poems of Macpherson, named two of his heroes therefrom, but Diarmaid Murat died in childhood.

Grainne’s name has been equally popular with that of her lover. Ancient Irish ladies constantly use it; the most celebrated being Grainne O'Maille, a notable sailor chieftainess of the south-western coast, whence she once sallied forth to pay a friendly visit to Queen Elizabeth; and when the two high-spirited women were together, the semi-barbarian was more than a match for the civilized queen.

Graine was soon after translated into Grace; indeed, the piratess was also called Grace O'Malley; and ever since, Grace has been a favourite national name in Scotland and Ireland, wherever Graine has been used; it has been accepted for its English meaning and pleasant sound, and is now very frequent.

SECTION VI.—Cormac.

Cormac is a name that makes a great figure in the Ossianic poems, and perhaps the son of Corb, i. e., a chariot, that is, a charioteer. Cormac, king of Ulster, was the young ward of Cuchullin; and another Cormac, called Cairbar, or the strong, was the father of a lady called Morna, or more properly, Muirne, who when one lover returned from battle, announcing that he had slain his rival, demanded his sword stained with the blood, and then took revenge by plunging it into his breast, and finally killed herself with it. A still more misty Cormac figures in ancient pedigrees, as having been choked by the bone of an enchanted salmon; and Cormac Cas is a more remote ancestor of the O'Briens than the great Brien Boromhe himself.

Another Cormac is named in Irish calendars, as an abbot of eminent sanctity in the days of St. Columba. He is further thought to have visited Iona, and at home enjoys the credit of having endowed the sept of the Hy Muireadach with “prosperity of cattle, the gift of eloquence, success in fosterage, the gift of good counsel, and the headship of peace and protection.” His name has since been common in Ireland.

Cormac used to be barbarously spelt Cormick and Cormuck, and the MacCarthy family have substituted Charles for it. There is a long Icelandic poem on a hero named Kormak, who, though his parents and brothers have Norse names, evidently had Milesian blood as well as name, for he is described as having dark eyes and hair, with a fair skin. He was an admirable warrior and poet, but was the victim of hopeless love for a lady named Steingerda.

Cairbre, strong man, is likewise one of the Ossianic names, as well as a soubriquet of Cormac. Cairbre again is reckoned as the first of the Milesians to settle in Ulster; and another Cairbre, son of Niall of the Nine Hostages, bequeathed his name to the district now called Carbury.

Cairbre appears as the Irish sovereign who was the greatest foe of the Fenians, and commanded at the battle of Gabhra, in which their force was broken; and the son of Oisean, the grandson of Fionn, the beloved Osgar, was treacherously slain, by a thrust in the side, by Cairbre himself. The tears shed by the great Fionn were for his grandson Osgar, and for his faithful dog Bran; and a great quantity of poetry has clustered round the death of this young hero. Oscar Bernadotte, another of Napoleon’s Ossianic godsons, recently sat upon the Swedish throne, though amongst us, this, like others of the Fenian names, has descended to dogs. It is explained as the bounding warrior, and the MacOscars, in Ireland, have been turned into Cosgrove and Costello.

The like fate has befallen the object of Osgar’s love, Malvina, as Macpherson calls her. The name is a mere invention of his own, formed perhaps from Maol, a handmaid. It has been adopted by French women to such an extent, that Malvine is one of the regular Parisienne’s names, and it has further travelled to Germany. Thus Osgar and Malvina, though with few namesakes in their own country, are the only Fenians who have been commemorated in continental nomenclature.

Múirne means affection, and when Anglicized as Morna, is considered as a Highland name.

SECTION VII.—Cath.

Universal among the Kelts is Cath or Cad, a battle or defence, such a prefix that is sure to flourish in every war-like nation.

Cathuil, a derivative of Cath, is a great chieftain attended by three hundred followers; and Cathal, as the name became, continued in use among the O'Connors, who translate it as Charles. The favourite hero there was Cathal Crobhdearg, red-handed, who fought hard against the English invaders; and, therefore, was described by them as a blood-thirsty ruffian, and by native historians as pious and amiable, probably being both characters in turn. His name was probably the parent of the Scottish surname, Cadell; but a Welsh saint, named Cadell, a battle-defence or shield, lived in the twelfth century. He had been a fierce warrior, and a great enemy to the English; but during his recovery from some severe wounds, he repented, went to the Holy Land as a penitent, and finally became a monk, and the patron of many a Cadell besides.

Cathbarr means tumult of battle. Cathbarr was so renowned a chief, that to strike his shield with a spear was the summons to his clan to arm. The Welsh made great use of the same prefix. Cadwallon, apparently from cadw, to defend, has always been common among them. Cadwallon was the brother of the Madoc of Southey, and a much earlier Cadwallon was the father of Cadwaladyr, or battle-arranger, regarded by the two parties much as Cathal was; for by the Saxons, Ceadwalla, as they call him, the slayer of the good Edwin and Oswald, is regarded with unmixed horror, while his own Cymric countrymen revere him as a glorious patriotic prince, second only to Arthur, and worthy of saintly honours; indeed he was canonized by Pope Sergius in 688, and is surnamed the Blessed. Cadwaldr in Breton, and Cadwalladyr in Welsh, continue to the present day. Cadwallader is also used in the Highlands, though, perhaps, this may be a blunder for some Gaelic Cath.

Saints of this name were numerous. Among them was Cedd, as his adopted people called him, the Good Bishop, whose Keltic ecclesiastical habits were so distasteful to the fiery Wilfred of York, and who finally is revered at Lichfield as “good St. Chad,” a form in which his appellation lingered among the midland peasantry. The grandfather of Cadwalladyr was Cadvan, whose Latin epitaph calls him “Catamarus, rex sapientissimus,” and whose name means battlehorn. Another Caduan, or Cadvan, was a hermit who migrated from Brittany to live on the coast of Caernarvonshire, on the isle called Bardsey by the English, and Ynis Eolli, Isle of the Current, by the Welsh. It was reputed a place of so much sanctity, that it was called the Rome of Britain; and so many saints were buried there, that it was a saying of the bards—

“Twenty thousand saints of yore, Came to lie on Bardsey’s shore.”

Cattwg, or Cadoc, was of princely blood, founded a monastery, and trained the veritable bard, Taliessin.

The Greek Adelphios was translated by the Welsh into Cadffrawd. Sir Cados is one of gentle Enid’s enemies, in the French romance of her constancy; but Cado, her son, in Welsh pedigree, swells the roll of saints. Cadfar, or stout in battle, is almost certainly one of the Armorican contributions to the Paladins of Charlemagne, in the shape of Sir Gadifer, the Don Gayferos of Spanish ballad and of Don Quixote.

SECTION VIII.—Fiachra.

Fiachra, or Fiaghra, is, as the Fiach is in Irish, a raven. Fiachere MacFhinn is a son of Fingal, who does his part among the traditions of the Fenians; and another Fiachra was the father of the last pagan king of Ireland, who, as Erse lore relates, reigned over Erin, Albin, and Britain, and as far as the mountains of the Alps. He succeeded his uncle Niall of the Nine Hostages, in 405, and went to the Alps to revenge his death. Being still a pagan, he demolished a tower of sods and stones sixty feet high, in which lived a saint, eleven feet from the light, and was accordingly cursed by the saint, and killed by a flash of lightning; but his servants put a lighted sponge in his mouth to imitate his breath, by way of concealing his death for some time.

Fiachra was the name of a hermit who left home to seek for solitude in France, and lived at Brenil, about two leagues from Meaux. He particularly applied himself to the cultivation of his little garden, and has ever since been considered as the patron of gardeners; and his austerity was such, that no woman was allowed to come within his precincts. He died about 670, and his relics began to obtain a miraculous reputation, which increased so much, that, though little known in his own country, France is full of churches dedicated to him.

Anne of Austria was particularly devoted to him; she thought the recovery of her husband, and the birth of the great Louis XIV. himself, were due to his intercessions; and she made a pilgrimage to his shrine, remembering so well his objections to womankind, that she never attempted to cross his threshold, but knelt before the door.

It does not appear, however, that the name of Fiacre was adopted by any one in deference to this devotion, except, perhaps, the Fiak of Brittany. All it did was to pass to the first hackney-coaches of Paris, which, from being used as a commodious mode of going on pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Fiacre, received the appellation they have had ever since. It is a whimsical concatenation that has named the fiacres of Paris after the misty raven of the race of Fingal.

Rín means a seal or sea-calf in Gaelic. Ronan is the derivative. He is a hero whose death is lamented in the Ossianic poetry, and his name was afterwards borne by a large number of Irish and Scottish saints, from whom came Ronan in Scotland, Ronayne in Ireland, once with the feminine Ronat.[98]

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Footnote 98:

O'Donovan; Macpherson; Maitland, History of Scotland; Cosmo Innes; Saturday Review; Butler.

SECTION IX.—Names of Complexion.

Names of complexion were very frequent among the various branches of Kelts, often as mere affixed soubriquets, but growing from thence into absolute individual names. Dhu and ciar, the black; dorchaid, the dark; dearg and ruadh, red; don, brown; boid, yellow; finn, white; odhar, pale; flann and corcair, ruddy; lachtna and uaithne, green; glas, which is blue in Wales, green in Ireland, and grey in the Highlands; gorm, blue; liath, grey; riabhach, greyish, have all furnished their share of names and epithets.

Dougall and Dugald have been from time immemorial Highland names, and, together with Donald, serve as the national nickname of the Gael among the Lowlanders. Dowal is used in Ireland. Donald is the Anglicism of Donghal, brown stranger, an early Scottish and Irish name, and likewise of Domhnall, which is probably really the same, though the Irish glossographers translated it a proud chieftain, and now have turned it into Donat and Daniel, or Dan.

Donald is reckoned as the first Christian king of Scotland.

To Beath, life, may be referred Betha, an old hereditary English name, and the Latinism of Bega or Begga, for a saint, called otherwise Hien or Hayne. She was of Irish birth; but about 620, was imported by some of the Keltic missionaries of the North of England, and St. Aidan consecrated her at Whitby as the first nun in Northumbria. Leaving St. Hilda to govern there in her stead, she founded the abbey, known by her English name of St. Bees, and at present serving as a university. A French St. Begga, whose mother was Northumbrian, was wife to a man whose strange destiny was to be, first, Maire du Palais, then, Bishop of Metz, and lastly to be killed in the chace. After his death, she founded a monastery, which is considered by some to have been the germ of the admirable institution of béguines, who did the work of sisters of charity in the Netherlands long before the French order was established by St. Vincent de Paul. Some, however, deduce them from a priest at Liege, called Lambert le bégue, or the stammerer. Begga was probably imported by the Danes to Scandinavia, where it is still in use, though there it may be a contraction for either Bergljot or Brigitta. The Venerable Bede himself, the father of English history, called Beda in Latin, is referred to the Welsh Bedaws, another form of the word life; but it has been more usual to explain his name by reference to the Teuton verbs, meaning to bid or to pray. However, that several Keltic forms did prevail is certain, especially among the churchmen of the northern counties.

Macduff no doubt was so called from Dubhoda, Maormar of Fife. Another Duff had exchanged the Gaelic Maormar for the English Earl, in 1115, and Dubican was Maormar of Angus, in 939.

Among ladies the Irish had Dubhdeasa, dark beauty, Dubhchoblaith (pronounced Duvcovla), or black victory, and Dubhessa, or black nurse. Duvessa O'Farrell died in 1301; and this same appellation Spenser must afterwards have heard in Ireland, when, struck, no doubt, by the du at the commencement sounding like two, as did the other Irish name Una resemble one, he called his emblem of falsehood, or perhaps of the Church of Rome, the false Duessa, while he gave the title of Una to his lovely personation of the one truth, the one true undivided Church, the guide of the Red Cross Knight. Irish antiquaries assure us that Una means dearth or famine; but it hardly suits this etymology. Una is queen of the fairies in the county of Ormond, in which character she appears in one version of the story of the soldier billeted on a miser. The man was amazed at his hospitable reception and entertainment, as he thought, by the avaricious squire in question, until morning disclosed that the fairy queen Una had raised the mansion and provided the supper, but from the prime cow in the miser’s herd.

Una has continued in use among the Irish peasantry, though much corrupted, being often pronounced Oonagh, and Anglicized as Winny, the contraction of Winifred, the English version of the Welsh Gwenfrewi.

The female Christian name of Douglas, which belonged to one of the unfortunate wives of Queen Elizabeth’s Earl of Leicester, was either a free version of one of those varieties of ‘dark ladyes,’ or else was one of the first specimens of a surname converted into a Christian name, perhaps in compliment to Lady Margaret Douglas, the niece of Henry VIII. and mother of Lord Darnley. Douglas was, without doubt, a territorial designation from the dark vale and stream of Douglas; but the heralds and genealogists of the gallant lineage of the bleeding heart made out an ancestor, ‘Sholto Dhu Glas’ (see the dark grey man), and then Sholto was adopted as a name in the Douglas family, and crept from thence to others. I have found no instance of it before the seventeenth century in looking through the peerage of Scotland, and the probable derivation of the word would be sioltaich, a sower.

Duncan was either Donnachu, brown chief, or Donngal, brown stranger, both which names were rife among the Scots, and Duncan has so continued ever since. Duncan and Donald both occur as Keltic slaves in Iceland, in the Saga of Burnt Njal; and, perhaps, not only the Irish, but even the saintly Scottish David, may have been at first an Anglicized Domnhall.

Don stands alone as a name in Hanmer’s list of Finn’s warriors; Donnan was an Irish name, and Donchada became Donoghoe, sometimes even now baptismal, but best known as the O'Donoghoe, the great visionary horseman of Killarney.

The word is really the same as our dun, though that has now come to express a misty dark grey, while don evidently means brown-haired, as in the feminine Duinsech. Don, as it stands at the end of the name of ‘The O'Connor,’ simply shows that he is the head of the brown branch of that sept, which anciently split into brown and red—O'Connor Don and O'Connor Roe, like the black and red Douglases of Scotland.

Roe is the Anglicism for ruadh, the colour that goes by the same title in all our cognate tongues, from the Greek ροδος to the Gadhaelic ruadh, and Cymric rud, rhud. It plays the chief part in nomenclature in Ireland and Scotland, where the true undiluted Gaels are divided between the black and the red.

The Irish Ruadri, Ruadhan, Ruadhaic, the Scottish Ruaridh, and Welsh Rhydderch, have all alike disguised themselves as Roderick, which is in each case supposed to be the full name of those who in ordinary parlance call themselves Rory or Roy.

In Welsh myths we meet with Rhwddlwan Gawr, the red bony giant, and in Merddhyn’s time we come upon Rhydderch Hoel, or the liberal, the champion of the Christian faith, who was the friend of St. Columba, restored St. Kentigern to Glasgow, and was promised by the former that he should never fall into the hands of his enemies, but should die with his head on his pillow—a promise that a Saxon long after would have scorned. He was a discourager of Druidism, and is reviled by Merlin. His name may come from rhydez, the exalted.

Several less shadowy kings reigned in Wales, the most distinguished of whom united all the three principalities till the year 877, and was called Rydderch Mawr, or, as it is barbarously called in our histories, Roderick Maur; much resembling what has been done with Roderick Dhu.

Dearbhforgail, or Derforgal, is translated by the Four Masters, ‘purely fair daughter;’ but later critics make it ‘the true oath,’ from dearbh, an oath, and fior-glan, true.

Dearbhforghal was a very tough name for the genealogists, and they had a good deal of it, for it was very fashionable in the twelfth century both in Scotland and Ireland, and was turned into Dervorgilla and Dornadilla by the much tormented chroniclers.

Lachtnan, from the Erse lachtna, green, is less easily accountable, unless it meant fresh and flourishing. It is now turned, in Ireland, into Loughnan, and more often into Lucius. The Scottish name so like in sound Lachlan or Loughlan, is however more probably from laochail, warlike.

Glas, grey, blue, or green, changes its meaning wherever it goes; but Glasan, in Irish, is its only Christian name, though it was a great epithet in all its countries, and has resulted in many a surname of Glass, besides the Highland Maglashan.

Cearan, or Ceirin, from ciar, black, was the name of one of the twelve Irish bishops whom St. Patrick consecrated. He betook himself to solitude in a place surrounded with bogs in Ireland, called from him Saiger, or Sier Kieran; but a tribe of disciples followed him, and a monastery arose; so, in search of loneliness, he fled to Cornwall, where he lived in a cell, and taught the inhabitants so much, that they ascribed to him even their knowledge of mining; and the 5th of March, his day, was considered as the tinners' holiday, in honour of their patron saint. His name, however, following the rule of the Cymric p for a Gaelic k, has turned into Pirin, or Perran, and is, in this form, not yet lost among the Cornish miners. His cell had a church built over it, called St. Pierans in Sabulo, or in the sand, and now Peranzabuloe. And in the sand it is, for it was absolutely choked by drifting sands, and abandoned in favour of a new one. In 1835 it was disinterred, and found to be a very curious specimen of ancient architecture. Another Ceiran was the patron of the Scots who first came from Ireland; and left his name to many a Kilkeran on the west coast. He is sometimes called St. Queran.

Cear is the soubriquet of Caoinnach I. of Scotland, who was killed in 621, after a reign of three months. The meaning of the epithet is questioned in his case, some calling it ciar, black; others, cearr, left-handed. The king himself rejoices in many varieties of name,—Caoinnach, in Irish, Coinadh; then, again, Conchad, Connadh, Kinat, and Cinead; till, finally, it has settled into the national Scottish Christian name of Kenneth in the Lowlands, Caioneach, in the Gaelic, denoting a fair and comely, or mild-tempered or peaceable man.

Caoin and Caomh are closely related, and both mean kind or fair. Caoimghin was that Irish saint who is commonly known as Kevin, and owns one of the seven churches of Glendalough, as well as the cave, whence a very modern legend, versified by Moore, shows him rejecting Kathleen’s visit by hurling her into the lake.[99]

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Footnote 99:

O'Donovan; Macpherson; Maitland, History of Scotland; Cosmo Innes; Scottish Surnames; Saturday Review; Butler; Highland Society’s Dictionary; Pugh; Crofton Croker; Irish Legends; Chalmers; Hayes, Irish Ballads.

SECTION X.—Feidlim, &c.

Feidlim was a very early Irish name, meaning the ever good, and Feidhlim Reachtmar, or the lawgiver, gained himself high reputation early in the second century, from which time Feidlim flourished in Ireland as Felimy or Felim, until a fashion arose of spelling it like a Greek word, Phelim, and then one Sir Phelim O'Neill, who was deeply implicated in the great Popish massacre of 1641, changed his name to Felix. He was seized by the English army and condemned, but was offered his life by Cromwell if he would inculpate King Charles, and on his gallant refusal, was executed. His new name caused the Irish poet M’Gee to exclaim—

“Why when that hero age you deify, Why do you pass infelix Felix by?”

A later Phelim O'Neill, in the last century, who made the same change, and called himself Felix Neele, was indignantly addressed in a Latin epigram:—-

“Poor paltry skulker from thy noble race, Infelix Felix, blush for thy disgrace.”

Felim once had a feminine Fedlimi, now either forgotten or transmuted into Felicia.

Tadhg is translated a poet, and was always a favourite in Ireland, where it has degenerated into Teague, Teige, or Thady, and then has been translated into Timothy, Thaddeus, Theodore, Theodosius, according to the fancy of the owner, though Tim is perhaps the most usual.

Mathew is in like manner the Anglicism of Mathghamhain, pronounced Mahoone, or Mahon, and meaning a bear.

Here again we meet with that universal Amal, as in the Roman Æmilii and Teutonic Amaler, and probably like them originally meaning work, though the direct meaning of Amuil in Gaelic is now, a hindrance, possibly as increasing labour. Amalgaid was a good deal in use in the elder times. The seven sons of Amalgith are said by Nennius to have been baptized by St. Patrick, and the race formed a sept called the Ui Amalghaid, who left their designation to the barony of Tir Awlay, in Ireland; while their Scottish cousins became the memorable clan Macaulay, the sons of labour. Awlay is the genuine Anglicism, not entirely disused in Scotland; but in Ireland, intercourse with the Danish conquerors led to the substitution of Amlaidh, as the Erse spelt the Danish Anlaff, ancestor’s relic, the same name as Olaf, and now this is likewise called Auley.[100]

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Footnote 100:

O'Donovan; Macpherson; Nennius; Munch; Highland Society’s Dictionary.

SECTION XI.—Names of Majesty.

Foremost among these names of greatness must stand tighearn, a king, a word of most ancient lineage, recurring in the Greek tyrannos.

Tighearnach was an Irish saint, who flourished at the end of the fifth century, and whose dish is still preserved at Rappa Castle, in Tirawley, by the name of Mior Tigearnan, or the dish of St. Tiernan. Tigearnach became common among Irish princes, and even appears in English history, when Tigearnach O'Rourke was robbed of his wife. It was long in dying out among the Erse population, and remains as a surname in the form of Tiernay.

Tigern was also used by the Cymry. Vortigern, as has already been shown, was Gwrthigern, the excelling king, and his far braver and better son was Kentigern, head chief; whence he is sometimes called Categern, in modern Welsh, Cyndeyrn.

Kentigern in the North, Cyndeyrn in Wales, was the name of an early Pictish saint, who recalled his countrymen from Pelagianism, and is regarded as the apostle and patron of Glasgow. Persecution obliged him to take refuge in Wales, where he founded the church of Llandwy, being guided, as saith the legend, to the spot by a milk-white boar, which ran before him, and on arriving at the spot began to stamp and root up the ground with his tusks. Returning to Glasgow, the saint thence sent missionaries to Iceland, who no doubt were the teachers of the few inhabitants whose descendants were long after found there by the Norse settlers, and called by them Papa, from the title of their priests, a title still lingering in many a bay and islet of the Hebrides, attesting that there the Culdee clergy had been owned as the fathers of their flocks. After a custom that does not seem to have been uncommon among the Keltic saints, Kentigern used every night to sing through the whole Book of Psalms, standing up to his neck in water. He obtained for himself the epithet, Mwyngu, or Munghu, the amiable, by which he is best known in his own city, and which has named both it and a large number of the inhabitants and of his other countrymen, one of whom, namely, Mungo Park, has made it memorable.

Wales had a feminine St. Kentigern, perhaps named after him; perhaps derived from the Irish Caintigern, or fair lady.

Cean, head, the first syllable of the saint’s name, is found in all the Keltic tongues, forming many geographical terms, generally in the form of can or ken.

Either this or cian, vast, was the Irish name Cian or Kean, hereditary in the O'Hara family, but often supposed to be short for Cornelius. So common was it once that fifty Cians were killed in the battle of Magh Rath.

Tuathal, lordly, turned into Toole and O'Toole, are his descendants, and the feminine, Tuathflaith, is entirely lost. The ladies had several of these majestic names; Uallach, the proud; So-Domina, good lady, which must have had a Latin origin; Dunflaith, lady of the fort; besides Mor, which the Scots are pleased to translate by Sarah, and the Irish by Mary and Martha, though it really means a large woman. Morrigu had been the goddess of battle among the Tuath de Danan.

Martha, Maud, and Mabel, are employed to distinguish Meadhbh, Meave, or Mab, one of the very oldest and most famous of Irish names. It would be most satisfactory to take it from meadhail, joy; but this is far from certain, and it may come from an old comparative of mor, great. But Mirth is analogous with the meaning of Ainè, the other fairy queen; and mear, or merry, has furnished another Irish name, namely, the masculine Meaghar or Meara. Meadhbh was the daughter of Eochaid Freidhleach, king of Erin, as it is said, A.M. 3922, and was so brilliant a heroine of Irish romance, that Congal Claen bids the men of Connaught, her husband’s kingdom, to “Remember Meave in the battle.” Afterwards, like other favourite Irish heroines, she became queen of the fairies; and some of the Irish settlers must have carried tidings of her to England, when Shakespeare, Drayton, and Ben Jonson made Queen Mab our own peculiar possession, if knowing how to make the best use of her establishes a claim. Meave, or Mab, has not entirely lost ground among the Irish peasantry, though generally it has an equivalent.

Toirdelvach, tall as a tower, or, more properly, tower-like, must have been taken from those riddles of Ireland, the mysterious towers, scattered throughout the island, and generally supposed to have been erected in the earliest period of Christian art, if art it may be called.

Toirdelvach was king of Connaught at the time that Dermot M'Morough carried off Devorgoil, and as supreme king of Ireland he punished the offender; nor was it till after his death that the invitation to Earl Strongbow was given. In English history, he is usually called Turlough, the later form of the name, which is still in some use, though more often turned into Terence, which has been oddly borrowed from the Latin dramatist to translate the tall Irishman.

Sealbh, cattle or possessions (for in Gaelic they are the same; just like pecus and pecunia, vieh and fee, cattel and chattels), is the origin of Sealbhach, pronounced Selvach, owned by two kings of the Scots, and of the feminine Sealbhflaith, lady of possessions, now become Sally.[101]

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Footnote 101:

Diefenbach; O'Donovan; Davies; Jones, Welsh Sketches; Rees, Welsh Saints.

SECTION XII.—Devotional Names.

The early Gadhaelic Christians were too reverent to call themselves by the same name as the objects of their devotion, whether Divine or human. They were the servants, or at most the friends, of those to whom they thus looked up. They used in this manner the prefixes, Ceile, the companion or vassal; Cear, the friend; Cailleach, the handmaid; and far more frequently Giolla and Maol.

Giolla is the very same word as the Scottish vernacular gillie, a servant; and in Ireland, the giolla eachaid, or horse servant, resulted in the term gallowglass, which is so constantly used in English narratives of Irish wars.

The primary meaning of Maol, or Mael, is bald; thus it came to mean one who has received the tonsure, or a student of theology, and was given in the sense of a disciple.

Cealleach originally meant a devotee, one living in a cell, and was once perhaps a Druidess, but she afterwards was a female disciple, or nun, and finally in Scotland has become only an old woman.

It will be endless work to go through all the list of servants and disciples, and yet some of these present some of the most whimsical facts in the history of names.

Gilla is sometimes used alone, and not only in the two Gaelic languages, for we have it Latinized as Gildas, the doleful Welsh historian who rates all the contemporary princes so soundly. Culdee, the term for the first missionaries of Scotland, is also explained as Giolla De. This was in use, with Cealleach De, the handmaid of God, but are both now extinct; but not so either the servant or disciple of JESUS. Giolla Iosa was used in both countries, but sank in Scotland into the homely surname of Gillies, whilst in Ireland it was wildly transformed, in the person of the primate of Armagh, at the time of the conquest, into the Greek Gelasius, laughter; a curious specimen of the consequences of supposing that Greek must be better than their natural tongue. Maol Ioso grew into the Scottish Christian name of Malise, by which we know the Earl of Strathern at the battle of the Standard, and again, the bearer of the Fiery Cross in the Lady of the Lake. Nor has it ever become disused in the Highlands. Giolla Christ was a Christian name in many Scottish families of the old Keltic blood. In 1174, one Gilchrist was Earl of Angus, and another, Earl of Mar; it has not, even to the present day, fallen into disuse at baptism, and is a not uncommon surname. This may perhaps have been the origin of some of the Christians, and others may once have been Cealleach Christ.

The Archangel St. Michael was the subject of much devotion: Cara Michael has now become Carmichael; but Gilliemichael was more common, and turned into Gilmichal. The influence of the great Keltic mission at Lindisfarn, on the North of England, is visible as late as the Norman Conquest; for Domesday Book shows four northern proprietors, called respectively, Ghilemicel, Ghilander, Ghillepetair, and Ghilebrid.

Votaries of the Twelve Apostles are not, however, very common. Ireland shows Ceile Petair, and also, Mail Eoin; but what is remarkable, it has no servant, male or female, to the Blessed Virgin. In Scotland only was there Gilmory and Gilmour; both masculine, and now surnames. Maolmhuire was the daughter of King Kenneth M'Alpin of Scotland, and marrying into Ireland, was the mother of many kings.

Some persons were servants of all the saints, collectively; as Giolla-na-naomh, very frequent in Irish genealogies. In the Highlands it becomes Gille-ne-ohm, and thence has occasioned the modern surnames Niven and Macniven. They are, probably, all connected with the Welsh nen, sky.

This word, in Cymric, leads us to the name of Ninius, prince of Cumberland, who there established Christianity, and of Nennius the British historian; though these are too much disguised by the Latin to be easily recognized. St. Ninidh, the pious, was one of the Twelve Apostles of Ireland, and left a hand bell, which is still preserved in the county of Fermanagh. Another bell, kept as a tenure of land, is still extant in Galloway, and is said to have belonged to St. Ninian, who is called by the Irish, Ringan, a prince of Cumbrian birth, who became a monk, in 412 built the first stone church between the Forth and Clyde, earned the title of Apostle of the Picts, and died in 432; leaving Ninian and Ringan both to be Christian names in Scotland.

The great object of Keltic veneration was, however, St. Patrick. Nobody ventured to be Patrick alone, but many were Giolla Phadraig, or Mael Phadraig, and the descendants were Mag Giolla Phadraig, whence arises the surname Fitzpatrick, translating the Mac, and omitting the Gillie. Others, again, were Killpatrick; but it is not easy to tell whether this Kil is the contraction of Gillie, or territorial, from the Cell or Church of St. Patrick. The first syllable of Cospatric, or Gospatrick, the Christian name of the Earls of Northumberland in the tenth and eleventh centuries, is less easily explained; but I believe (on Mr. Lower’s authority) it is the Gossoon, the boy of St. Patrick.

St. Patrick’s pupil, Bridget, had her votaries in large numbers, Giolla Brighde, Gilbrid, Maelbridh, all now lost but for the occasional surnames of Macbride and Kilbride, which last is sometimes the Church of Bride. Possibly, too, the Scottish Gilbert may have been taken up as an equivalent to Gilbrid.

The great St. Columba, who established the centre of his civilizing and Christianizing efforts at Iona, had many a grateful disciple, as Gillecolumb, or Maelcolum. The latter form rose to the throne of Scotland in 936, when the father, who had thus dedicated his son to the missionary saint, retired into a convent. The second Malcolm was the persecutor of Lady Macbeth’s family, the third was Duncan’s grandson, he of the Great Head, who, by the help of his sweet wife, St. Margaret, was the first to lift Scotland out of her barbarism, and begin that assimilation with the English which was in full progress at the time of the death of his great grandson, Malcolm the Maiden, and perhaps was the reason why no more kings were called by this Keltic name, so puzzling to Latinizers, that in utter oblivion of St. Columb, they call it Milcolumbus. However, the people of Scotland have kept it up, and in 1385, Sir Malcolm Drummond received 400 francs from France, and is designated in the conveyance as Matorme Dromod! Callum is considered in the Highlands as the form of Malcolm, and Cailein of Colin. Probably Kilian, one of the Keltic missionary saints, popular in Germany, is another pronunciation of the word.

Secundinus was another pupil of St. Patrick, whom the Irish first made into Seachnall, and then termed their children Mael-seachlain, as his pupils. The great Irish king, Malachy with the collar of gold, was thus rendered to suit the weak Saxon capacity.

Cailleach-Coeimlighin and Gilla Coeimghin are the votaries of St. Kevin, a very unpromising object of hero-worship, if we were to believe the legend with which Moore and other moderns have quite gratuitously favoured Glendalough. Cœimghin itself means fair offspring.

Giolla Cheallaigh was common in honour of Ceallach, a very local saint, of royal birth, who was educated by St. Kieran. On his father’s death, he was about to ascend the throne, when his tutor interfered, probably considering this an infraction of his vows, and on his persisting, laid him under a curse, after the usual fashion of Irish saints. He lost his kingdom, and became a bishop, but resigned his see for fear of his enemies, and retired to a hermitage on Lough Con, where, however, he was murdered by four ecclesiastical students, whose names all began with Maol. His corpse was hidden in a tree, where for once it did not show the incorruptibility supposed to be the property of sanctity. The murderers were all put to death on an eminence, called from them Ardna-maol, or hill of the shavelings, and his admirers have resulted in the surname O'Killy-kelly, or, for short, Kelly.

Scotland had several instances of bishop’s servant, Gillaspick in Scotland, or in Northern Ireland, Giolla Easbuig, the Keltic form of episcopus. Gillaspich Campbell, already Scotticized enough to have been christened by this Gaelic term, married Aioffe O'Duinne, the daughter of the line of Diarmid; and thenceforth Gillaspick, or Gillespie, was the hereditary Christian name in the family, till, in the twelfth century, his fourth descendant called himself Archibald, and thenceforth the heads of the house of Campbell have been Archibald to the Lowlands, to their own clan, Gillespik. It is a curious fact that Gillespie Grumach and his son, the two Covenanting Argyles, should thus have proclaimed themselves ‘Bishop’s gillies.’ Gillespie has become a frequent surname in Scotland.

Maelgwn, or Maelgwas, was his successor in Powys and Gwynned, and is desperately abused by the indignant Gildas for all manner of crimes; while even Taliessin, who praises his beauty, rebukes his licentiousness. Three centuries later, a bard alleges that he hid himself in a wood, waylaid and carried off the wife of King Arthur. In the twelfth century, Caradoc, abbot of Llancarven, adds that Arthur besieged him in his castle, and had challenged him to single combat, when the sage Gildas and the abbot of Glastonbury interposed, and obtained the lady’s restoration. Walter of Oxford adds that this Maelgwn reigned after King Arthur, and finally died of terror in a convent, having seen the Yellow Spectre, namely the plague, through the chinks of the church door. Dr. Owen Pugh further tells us, that Jack-in-the-Green, on May-day, was once a pageant representing Melva, or Melvas, king of the country now called Somersetshire, disguised in green boughs, as he lay in ambush to steal King Arthur’s wife as she went out hunting.

Maél-was, a servant boy, was translated into old Romance French as the former, by the word Ancel, or Ancelot, otherwise L'Ancelot; Villemarqué quotes a mention of the ‘fable Ancelot et Tristan,’ from the romance of Ogier, to show that in earlier days Mael, or Ancelot, was mentioned without the article, which has since become incorporated with it, so that Lancelot has grown to be the accepted name, and so universally supposed to mean a lance, that the Welsh themselves, re-importing his history, called him Palladr, a shivered lance. Ancelot and Ancelin were certainly early chivalrous names, the latter perhaps confused with the Ansir or Æsir of the Teutons. Ancilée and Anselote are feminine names in the register of Cambrai, of the dates of 1169 and 1304; and as there most of the feminines are changed from those of men, it is evident that Ancil and Anselot must once have existed there, either named from the hero of romance, or translated from some Walloon Mael; and thence no doubt the Asselin, Ascelin of our old Norman barons, and the Atscelina Fossard, mentioned in a curious old tract on female names, as having lived in the North of England. It is curious that even romance does not profess that Launcelot was the true name of the knight, thus formed from the Cambrian chieftain, though Galahad is there said to have been his proper name, afterwards given to his worthier son. Launcelot was bestowed on him by Vivian, the Lady of the Lake, who stole him in infancy from his father, King Ban, and brought him up under her crystal waves, till he was eighteen, when, as Sir Lancelot du Lac, he appeared at King Arthur’s court, and became the principal figure there, foremost in every feat of chivalry, the flower of knighthood; but in the noble severity of the English romance, he was withheld from counsels of perfection, by his guilty love for Gwenever, and lying spell-bound in a dull trance when the holy vision of the Sanc-greal past by. Finally, he broke with King Arthur, and opened the way to Mordred’s fatal rebellion by his defection, too late repenting, and after Arthur’s fall becoming a hermit and a penitent.

His story was told with deep warning in England, but in Italy it was ‘Lancilotto’ that Francesca di Rimini looked back to as the tale that had been the spark to awaken fatal passion.

He has ever since been regarded as the type of penitence for misdirected love and chivalrous prowess, and in consequence Lancelot, and its contraction Lance, have never been entirely out of use in England, though not universal.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

IV. NAMES OF CYMRIC ROMANCE

SECTION I.—The Round Table.

It is a very remarkable fact, that the grand cycle of our national romance and poetry, has been made to centre round the hero of a people whom we have subdued, and were holding in our power with difficulty, at the very time that minstrels were singing the adventures of the leader who had for the longest time kept our forces in check.

Many a patriot has fought as boldly as Arthur, many a nation has held out as bravely as the remains of the Britons; but as the “battle is not to the strong,” so renown is not to the most able; and it was to a very peculiar concatenation of circumstances that the Britons owed it that their struggles in Somerset, Cornwall, and Strathclyde should have been magnified into victories over Rome and half Europe, and themselves metamorphosed from wild Cymry, with a little Roman polish and discipline, into ideal models of chivalry.

That they did fight there can be no doubt. If the dismal groans of the Britons were ever sent at all, it was but a small number who groaned. As to the Anglo-Saxons, they had been coming even before the Romans, and Carausius and his fleet held them in check for awhile; but there can be no doubt that they came in much greater numbers, and with more intent to settle, than in former times, in the decay of the empire. Moreover, the resistance evidently became more resolute and valid, as the tide flowed westward over the diagonally arranged strata of the island; the alluvial lands to the east have no traditions of battles, but at the chalk downs, the rounded hills have names and dim legends of fights and of camps, and cities begin to claim to be the scene of Arthur’s court.

Westward again, with the sandstone hill and smiling valley, the tales multiply spots where the court was held in perplexing multitude; river upon river puts forth its old Keltic name of Cam, the crooked, and calls itself the place of the last decisive fight. And when the moorland and mountain are actually reached, and the heather stretches wide over the granite moor, with the igneous peak of stone crowning the lofty crag, there the Briton is still free, and points to his rocky summits as his hero’s home.

To those fastnesses were the Cymry finally limited, if they would enjoy their native government; and though many remained as serfs, and some as clergy, in the open country, the national spirit was confined to those who dwelt in the strongholds of the West. There did their bards sing and tell tales, and compose Triads on the past glories of their race, with a natural tendency to magnify the exploits of their most able defender. At the same time, the Armoricans on the other side of the water, some of whom had, probably, according to their tradition, migrated from Britain, told their own legends, and sung their songs on the chief who had maintained the cause of their countrymen.

When the Normans settled in Neustria, their lively fancy caught up all that was imaginative among those around them. It is from their arrival that the first dawn of French literature dates, and it seems to have been they who first listened to the Breton lays, and brought them forward in the French tongue. At the central court of France, the Norman trouvère met the Provençal troubadour, and their repertory of tales was exchanged, the one giving his native Norse myths, tinctured with Keltic heroic tales, the other the Greco-Roman and Arabic stories that had travelled to him. And there, both sets of stories were steeped in that mysterious atmosphere of chivalry, which could dream of no court that was not based on the model of feudal France, no warrior without a horse and an esquire, a cone-shaped helmet, and kite-shaped shield.

That true knights were all equal, was a maxim held, though hardly carried out, in the eleventh century, and the floating notion of a table, where all were on an equality, was ready to fix itself on the golden age of chivalry. And when the Normans themselves became the owners of Britain, and brought with them a fair sprinkling of Bretons, no wonder they decided that the heroes, who, at least, were not Saxon, should be their own property. Siegfried and Brynhild had fallen into oblivion, and the British chiefs did veritably flourish on their native soil. Geoffrey of Monmouth pretended to hunt up their history in Wales and Brittany; Marie of France more faithfully reproduced her native lays in Norman-French; and as fresh tales were discovered or invented, metrical romances spread them far and wide, and began all to place their scene at the court of Arthur. Most noted among these, was the story of the San-grail, the cup of healing and lance of wounding, that may have been a shadow of a mighty truth, but which became myth in many countries, until, in the hands of the Cymry, they assumed to be the veritable original Cup of Blessing of the Last Supper, and the lance of the soldier at the Cross.

A relic-adoring age willingly believed, that to find these treasures was the great task of the knights it had invented. Thenceforth, English imagination beheld the glorious past as a feudal court, where all the good Knights of the Round Table, now an order of chivalry, had bound themselves to seek the holy relics, that could only be revealed to the perfectly pure and worthy. Mallory’s beautiful book preserves the main line of the allegory, though it is full of episodes, and it is the veritable prose epic of the Round Table.

France and Lombardy likewise believed in the Round Table, but not with the same national faith. As was natural, their poems centered about the great Frank emperor, and what they wrote or told of the British knights rather dealt in the less creditable adventures of individuals, than in the ennobling religious drift of the main story.

However, it is these Round Table names that are the most widely known and used of all the Keltic nomenclature, with a reputation almost entirely romantic, and very seldom saintly. Among the Arthurian names there is not one that is Teutonic; all are either genuine Cymric, or else such modifications of Latin nomina as citizenship was sure to leave to the Britons.

SECTION II.—Arthur.

No Keltic name approaches in renown to that of the central figure of the Round Table; yet, in the very dazzle of his brightness, his person has been so much lost, that, as the author of Welsh Sketches observes, “Whereas Peter Schlemihl lost his shadow, Arthur has lost his substance.”

To begin with his name. He may have been a Romanized Briton named from Arctus, “Arthur’s slow wain rolling his course round the pole,” and Arcturus, the bear’s-tail, far behind him in Boötes; and Arth, perhaps from them, does indeed mean a bear in British.

Ard, the consonant softening into th in composition, means high or noble, in all the Keltic tongues but Welsh, and had been a name from time immemorial in Ireland, as Scott knew when he made the Bertram family tree bear fruit of Arths in fabulous ages. Art, a Milesian, is said to have lived B.C. 233; Art MacCormac appears in the Ossianic legends, “Art Oge MacMorne kept Dundorme;” according to Hanmer’s catalogue of Finn MacCoul’s comrades, Art and Arth recur for ever in Erse Highland pedigree; and in the end of the fourteenth century, Art MacMorough was the great hero of Ireland, who slew Roger Mortimer, and sorely puzzled Richard II., reigned in Leinster for forty years, and cost the English treasury twelve million marcs; so that when he died,

“Since Brien’s death in Erin Such a mourning had not been.”

Arthmael, bear’s servant or worshipper, was a Welsh prince, but here, as in Ireland, all the Arths are now merged in Arthur.

Ardghal, or Ardal, of high valour, is an Erse name, and was long used, though it has now been suppressed by the supposed Anglicism Arnold, eagle-power. It explains the name of Arthgallo, who, in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s legendary history, is the persecuting brother, whom Elidure’s untiring love and generosity finally won from his cruel courses to justice and mercy. Artegal and Elidure was one of the best ante-Shakesperian dramas; and Artegal was selected by Spenser as one of the best and noblest of his knights-errant, representing Arthur Lord Grey.

Ardrigh was an Erse term for the supreme monarch over their five lesser realms, and is still applied by the native Irish to the king of France,—much as the Greeks were wont to style the Persian monarch the Great King. This most probably accounts for the term Arviragus, which we picked up by the Romans, and applied to that son of Cymbeline who was really the brave Caradwg. Ardheer is another form of this same title of the highest chief, and the later critics tell us to consider this as the origin of our hero.

He is not, indeed, mentioned by Gildas, unless he be the “dragon of the island;” but his omission from that letter is only to his credit, and the individuality of Arthur stands on the testimony of Welsh bards up to his own date, and of universal tradition.

Arthur, or Arthwys, seems to have been the son of Uthyr, and Emrys, whom he succeeded, bearing the title of Pendragon in his own tongue, and of Imperator in Latin, which was the language of politics to the Britons. A Silurian like Caradwg, his spirit was the same, and his hereditary possessions would seem to have been on the Welsh border, with Caerleon on Uske for their capital; but he was born at Tintagel in Cornwall, and he was prompt in flying to the aid of the British cause in all quarters. The West Saxons were his chief enemies, and his battles, twelve in number, are almost all in the kingdom of Wessex; but he must also have been acknowledged by the northern Britons of the old province of Valentia, and have ruled over “fair Strathclyde and Reged wide” from his fortress at Carlisle. After a brave reign of forty years, he at length perished through the treachery of his nephew; but whether his last fatal battle was fought in Strathclyde, Cornwall, or in Somerset, it seems impossible to determine.

The Cymry mourned passionately. The Welsh bards made Triads, and the Armoricans sang songs.

Nennius mentions Arthur in the sixth century.

In 720, a person called Eremita Britannus, or the British hermit, is said to have written about King Arthur; the Welsh Mabinogion, or children’s tales, were all centering on him; and when, in the early part of the twelfth century, Geoffrey of Monmouth brought out his chronicle, it was translated all over Europe, even into Greek, and furnished myriads of romances, metrical and otherwise.

The outline of the Arthur of romance scarcely needs to be here traced; the prince, brought up in concealment, establishing his claim by pulling the sword out of the stone whence no one else could detach it; the Christian warrior, conquering all around, and extending his victories to Rome; the band of Knights; the vow and quest of the Holy Grail that breaks the earthly league; the fall and defection of the two most accomplished knights through unhallowed love, the death of one, and the rebellion of the other, the lover of Arthur’s own faithless wife,—all opening the way to the fatal treason of the nephew; and the last battle, when the wounded king causes his sword to be thrown into the river, as a signal to the fairies, who bear him away to their hidden isle. All this is our own peculiar insular heritage of romance, ennobled as it has been by old Mallory’s prose in the fifteenth century, and in the nineteenth by Tennyson’s poetry, the best of all the interpretations of the import of Arthur himself.

As to his name, it was not very common even in Wales. It only came forth as a matter of romance, and was given occasionally either from fancy or policy.

Constance of Brittany gave her little son this popular name, perhaps in the hope that in time British Arthur would be restored to England, and thenceforth Arzur, as the Bretons call it, was occasionally used in the duchy.

An old prophecy of Merlin was said to have declared that Richmond should come from Brittany to conquer England, and this prediction caused Henry V. to refuse all requests to allow Arthur, Comte de Richemont, son of the Duke of Brittany, to be ransomed when taken prisoner at Agincourt. His name of Arthur no doubt added to the danger, and Henry’s keen eyesight might have likewise detected in him the military skill which made him so formidable an enemy to the English on his own soil, not theirs.

When Richmond really came out of Brittany and conquered England, he named his first son Arthur, but that son never wore the British crown, nor did the infant Arthur of Scotland, so named by James V., survive to be known in history. Arthur, however, had become an occasional name; but it was reserved for the great Arthur Wellesley, whose name had perhaps more to do with the old Art of Erse times than with the king of the Round Table, to make it, as it is at present, one of the most universally popular of English names. Even the French use it, for its sound, it may be presumed, rather than for its recent distinction, and they have ceased to spell it in the old form, Artus, and adopted our own. The Italians know, but do not use, Arturo; however, the name changes so little that Madame Schopenhauer’s husband was justified in choosing it for his son as a useful name for a merchant, because it does not alter in being translated.

The English feminine Arthurine is occasionally used.

SECTION III.—Gwenever.

The staunchest supporters of Arthur’s existence give him three wives. One of them was she who was stolen by Maelwas, the origin of Lancelot, and she it is who is the dame of romance.

Gwen, the commencement of her name, is used in Welsh, in the double sense of the colour, white, and of a woman, perhaps for the same reason that ‘the fair’ so often stands for a lady in poetry. The word is closely related to the finn and ban, both meaning white in the other branch of the Keltic tongue, and, save for the fulness of interest belonging to both, all might have been treated of together. Gwen, the feminine of Gwyn, white, becomes wen in composition, and as such we have already met it at the end of words.

Gwendolen is made by the Brut, and by Geoffrey of Monmouth, the daughter of Corineus, Duke of Cornwall, and wife of Locrine, son of the original Brutus. He deserted her for the sake of Estrild, a fair German captive, and she made war upon him, in the course of which he was killed, and Estrild and her daughter Sabrina, or Avern, made prisoners; whereupon, the jealous and revengeful queen caused both to be drowned in the river, thenceforth called Sabrina or Severn; in Welsh, Hafreu, where we may hope that the damsel became the lovely nymph who “listened and saved” the lady from Comus and his crew. Estrild is Essylt (or Iseulte) in the Welsh which Geoffrey copied.

The Welsh saints give us St. Gwendolen or Gwen as the mother of Caradog Vreichfras, the excellent Sir Cradocke of the Round Table. In the Triads and the Mabinogion, Gwendolen is a beauty of Arthur’s court, and in the bardic enumeration of the thirteen wonders of Britain appears the gold chess-board of Gwendolen, on which, when the silver men were placed, they would play of themselves. Gwendolen, Gwen, and Gwyn have never been disused in Wales. The first was the daughter of the last native prince, and her name is increasingly in favour with the lovers of archaisms.

Gwenhwyfar is the swelling white wave; but the ocean names of the Britons are worth noting, when we remember that they also had Llyr, with Bronwen and Creirdydlydd, all certainly mythical.

Without consigning Queen Gwenhwyfar to the regions of Regan, it is likely that hers was a hereditary name descended from some part of the ancient faith. A Welsh couplet describes her as—

“Gwenhwyfar, daughter of Gogyrfan the Great, Bad when little, worse when great.”

And the various early tales in the Mabinogion, as well as the metrical romances, always give the same character of the beautiful queen of light conduct. In the Morte d'Arthur, guilty love for her paralyzes Lancelot’s eyes when the San-grail passes before him, the same passion drives him to his rebellion, and finally the repentant queen takes refuge in the convent at Ambresbury, where Tennyson has described the parting between her and Arthur in the most noble and beautiful of all his poetry.

Guenever was her full English name, contracted into Ganivre, or Ganore, a form that occurs in old Welsh registers. Jennifer, as they have it in Cornwall, is still frequent there; but nowhere else in our island has the name been followed. Scotland has a tradition of her crimes that calls her Queen Wanders, or Vanora, and Boece actually imprisons her in the great old fort on Barra Hill, in Perthshire; but abroad she met with more favour, as Génièvre in France, and in Italy as Ginevra, or Zinevra.

Observing that the French call Gwenhwyfar, Génièvre, we can hardly doubt that either this, or Gwenfrewi, holy calm or fair peace, must have been the origin of their own Généviève, though the German etymologists try to construe her as gan, magic, vaips, a crown. But Généviève was a Gaul, born at Nanterre in 422, and could hardly have borne anything but either a Keltic or a Roman name; and the whole family of Gwens were, as has been shown, dear to the Cymric race, whose religion was the same in Gaul and Britain. A shepherd-maid, like Joan of Arc, Généviève anticipated her deeds of patriotism, though she wore no armour and carried no sword. When Paris was besieged by the Franks, she, unarmed, and strong only in her pious confidence, walked forth as the escort of the citizens in search of provisions, and when the city was taken, her heroic holiness so impressed the heathen Franks, Hlodwig and Hilderik, that her entreaties in behalf of their prisoners were always granted. When she died, in her 90th year, she was erected into the primary patron saint of Paris, and has so continued ever since, leaving Généviève in high esteem among Parisiennes of all degrees down from Anne Généviève de Bourbon, the sister of Condé. The numerous contractions testify to the popularity of the gentle patriot. Some of the German forms may, however, be ascribed to the apocryphal Saint Genovefa, of Brabant, to whom has attached the story, of suspicious universality, of the wife who was driven by malicious accusations to the woods, there to give birth to an infant, and to be nourished by a white doe until the final discovery of her innocence. From whatever cause the name is widely used on the Continent.

┌───────────────┬───────────────┬───────────────┬───────────────┐ │ English. │ French. │ Breton. │ Italian. │ │Winifred │Généviève │Jenovefa │Genoveffa │ │Jennifer │Javotte │Fa-ik │ │ │ │Genevion │ │ │ │ │Vevette │ │ │ ├───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┼───────────────┤ │ German. │ Russian. │ Illyrian. │ │ │Genovefa │Zenevieva │Genovefa │ │ │Vevay │ │Genovefica │ │ │Vefele │ │Veva │ │ └───────────────┴───────────────┴───────────────┴───────────────┘

Gwenfrewi was the Welsh nun whose head was cut off by a furious prince called Caradoc, because she refused his addresses; whereupon, in the usual fashion of Welsh saints, she caused a well to spring up on the spot of her martyrdom. But unlike other such wells, it is intermitting, and sufficiently impregnated with mineral substances to support its high character to miraculous powers, and, in addition, the stones are marked with red veins, which represent the blood of St. Wenefred, as our Anglo-Saxon tongues have long since made her. Such undoubted wonders made Winifred a most flourishing name in Wales, and it is occasionally found in England, though usually through a Welsh connection, and so spelt as to confuse it with the true Saxon masculine Winfrith, or friend of peace. The Irish take Winny as the equivalent of Una.

In Breton, Guennolé, also called Wingallok, in Cornish, Gunwallo, was a celebrated saint, and was the counsellor who saved King Gradlon in the inundation. Guennola is the feminine, and is used, very correctly, to translate the French Candide, as is Guennéan, the white spirit, for angel, both the being and the name.

Dwynwen, or the white wave, was invoked as the patroness of lovers, and became a Welsh name. It is just possible that an echo of this, on the other side of the water, may be Damhnait, or Devnet, Latinized as Dymphna, or Dympna, though the more obvious likeness in sound is damhna, a reason. An Irish princess, so called, was obliged, about the year 600, to fly from the persecutions of her father, protected by a priest, a jester, and his wife, until near Antwerp her father overtook her and cut off her head. Hanmer adds, “the Irish in the county of Lowth do honour her; belike her father dwelt there:” and Dympna, or Demmy, is not wholly extinct as a name.

This same wen, the poetical form of a woman, or fair one, enters into the composition of two other saintly Keltic names. The first, St. Mawdwen, or Modwen, was one of St. Patrick’s Irish nuns; and another later Modwen, also Irish, came to England in 840, educated Edith, daughter of King Ethelwolf, and founded an abbey at Polsworth. She was rather a favourite saint; her name is traceable in various places; and Modwenna continued in Cornwall. Perhaps it comes from modh, manners.

Cainwen is said to be Cain, the virgin. The first half means splendid or beautiful things or jewels, and is connected with the Latin Candalus. The Welsh declare that she was of princely birth; but being determined to live a holy life, she travelled on foot beyond the Severn, and there found a solitary place where no one had ever lived, because it was infested with snakes and vipers, which she forthwith, by her prayers, turned to stone, and they may still be picked up in a petrified state in the fields. Keynsham, in Somersetshire, is, in fact, famous for ammonites, which thus have given rise to another legend like those of St. Cuthbert and St. Hilda. Camden himself saw one of these stones, and was somewhat perplexed thereby.

She afterwards repaired to St. Michael’s Mount, in Cornwall, where she met her nephew, St. Cadoc, and there her name became attached to a well, in the parish of St. Neots, arched over by four trees—oak, ash, elm, and withy, all apparently growing from one root. The water was further supposed to endow whichever of a married pair first tasted it with the mastery for life. No one can forget that best of all Southey’s humorous ballads, where the Cornishman confesses,—

“I hastened, as soon as the wedding was done, And left my wife in the porch; But, i' faith, she had been wiser than I, For she took a bottle to church.”

Cornishmen, apparently, never forgave St. Keyne for the properties of her well; for Carew, in his Survey of Cornwall, terms her “no over holy saint;” and Norden thus vituperates her: “this Kayne is sayde to be a woman saynte, of whom it (the well) taketh name; but it better resembleth Kayne, the devil, who had the shape of a man, the name of an apostle, and the qualitie of a traitor.” Gwenllian, white linen, is still sometimes used.

Gwyn also signifies blessed or happy, and this gwynnedd is an epithet of some of the favourite kings. Gwynaeth, a state of bliss, is a female name still in use, and often written Gyneth, though it gets translated into Venetia, and, in the latter form, named the lady whom Sir Kenelm Digby rendered famous.

SECTION IV.—Gwalchmai, Sir Gawain, and Sir Owen.

No knight is more distinguished, either in the Triads or in romance, than Gwalchmai, perhaps from Gwalch, a hawk, and maedd, a blow.

In Welsh pedigrees, he is Arthur’s nephew, son of his sister Ernnos and of Llew, king of Lothian and Orkney. He probably had a real existence, for the Triads celebrate him as one of the three golden-tongued knights of Britain, one of the three learned ones of Britain, and one of the three most courteous men towards strangers. In a Welsh poem, he is represented as using his courteous tongue in behalf of his friend Trystan; and in the Mabinogion, in the ‘Lady of the Fountain,’ he takes such a prominent part, that the French romance is called that of Sir Yvaine and Sir Gawaine. Walganus and Walwyn had Latinized the Hawk of Battle, and have caused it to be confounded with the Teutonic Walwine, slaughter-lover; but the Gwalchmai of Wales can be identified with the Gawain, or Wawyn, of romance by his friendship with Trystan, his relationship to Arthur, and his title in the romances of the Flower of Courtesy.

It was Sir Gawaine who in the ballad boldly adventured himself to wed the “Loathly Lady,” and was rewarded by breaking the spell, and discovering her loveliness. Gawaine was the hero of the great battle with the giant Rhyence, and, though unsuccessful, was one of the foremost in the quest of the San-grail, until warned by a dream how the enterprise was to result. Finally, Sir Gawaine took his uncle’s side first in the war with Lancelot, then with Mordred, and died of the renewal of a wound received in battle with the former, writing on his death-bed a letter that brought Lancelot to repentance.

His name, whether as Walwyn, Gawain, or Gavin, was popular in England and Scotland in the middle ages; and in the last-mentioned shape named the high-spirited bishop of Dunkeld, the one son of old Bell the Cat, who could “pen a line,” and who did so to such good purpose when “he gave rude Scotland Virgil’s page.” Nor is Gavin by any means extinct in Scotland.

Sir Gawain is coupled in English romance with his intimate friend, Sir Ywaine, as in French with Sir Yvaine; and in the Welsh story, in the Mabinogion, he is Sir Owain. He there sets forth from court in search of adventures, and falls in with a knight in black armour, whom he conquers, and thereupon is conducted to a castle, where he becomes guardian of an enchanted fountain, and husband of a lady in yellow satin, with long yellow hair, and a hundred maids always embroidering satin. Of course, when Sir Gawain came in quest of him, and he was allowed to go back to King Arthur’s court, he forgot the whole affair, until at the end of three years, he was recalled by his lady’s confidential handmaid, Luned, and proceeded to atone for his unfaithfulness by another severe course of adventures, during which he delivered a black lion from a serpent, thus binding the faithful beast to his service for ever, and after a due slaughter of giants, rejoined his wife, and lived happy ever after. The French of the thirteenth century knew him as Sir Yueins, le Chevalier du Lion; and even the Scandinavians had his story in their Ivent Saga. In the Morte d'Arthur, he is Sir Gareth, and brother to Gawain; but he must have been his cousin, as he was the son of Urien, and of Arthur’s sister, Morgwen. In the Morte d'Arthur, Luned is Linet, and in the French romances she is Lunette. Her name seems to be derivable from llun, a shape or form, and if so, would mean the shapely; but the hagiologists identify it with that Elined, the daughter of Brychan, who suffered martyrdom on the hill of Penginger, and was canonized as St. Almedha, a name still to be seen on the sign of an inn at Knaresborough.

Owain, Oen in Brittany, continued popular in Wales, though, perhaps, rather more usual at a late than an early period. The notable Owen Glendower, as Shakespeare has taught us to call him, was really Owain ap Gruffydd of Glendfrdwy, his estate in Merionethshire, where he kept a grand household.

It was he who made Owen the most common of Welsh names, in honour of the last Welshman who lived and died free of the English yoke.

Owain is so like the word oen that in Welsh stands for a sheep or lamb, that it is generally so translated; but it is most likely that this is a case of an adaptation of a derivative from an obsolete word to a familiar one, and that Owen ought to be carried much further back to the same source as the Erse Eoghan, which comes from êoghunn, youth, from og, young, and is translated, young warrior. It has the feminine Eoghania, of course turned into Eugenia.

There were many Eoghans in Ireland. One of them, a king of Connaught, when dying of his wounds, commanded himself to be buried upright, with his red javelin in his hand, and his face turned towards Ulster, as though still fighting with his foes. As long as he thus remained, Connaught prevailed and Ulster lost; but the Ultonians discovered the spell, and re-buried him in an opposite direction, thereby changing the tide of success.

Eoghan, in Scotland, is pronounced Yō-hăn, and indiscriminately translated by Evan, Ewan, and Hugh. Several of the early kings, who are all numbered together in Scotland as Eugenius, were properly Eoghan, and Evan or Ewan is certainly the right Anglicism, though Hugh is made to do duty for these as well as for Aodh.

The same Eoghan seems in ăanother form to have supplied the Welsh Evan, or Evan may be intended for John. A certain Evan of Wales, claiming the blood of the Welsh princes, who became a mercenary under Charles V. of France, made a bold descent upon Guernsey, and was killed at the siege of Mortain-sur-mer, by what Froissart calls a short Spanish dagger, but his illuminator has made to look much more like a very large arrow. Welsh history takes no cognizance of him, but he is thought to be traceable in the national songs as Jevan Dovy.

Another translation of Owain is “apt to serve.” A British prince of Strathcluyd was called Uen or Hoen.[102]

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Footnote 102:

Mabinogion; Morte d'Arthur; Tracts on Antiquities of the Northern Counties, by R. D. D.; Cambro-Briton; Jones, Welsh Sketches; Chalmers; Percy, Relics; Rees, Welsh Saints; O'Donovan; Hy Fiachrach; Owen Pugh; Highland Society’s Dictionary.

SECTION V.—Trystan and Ysolt.

The episode of Trystan is one of the most celebrated incidents of Arthur’s court, and has not failed to be treated by Davies as a magnificent emblematic myth.

The Triads begin by declaring that the three mighty swineherds of the Isle of Britain were Pryderi, Coll, and Trystan.

Another adds,—

The third swineherd was Trystan, son of Tallwch, who kept the swine of March, the son of Meirchion, while the swineherd was conveying a message to Essylt, to appoint an assignation with her.

Again, he is one of the three heralds of Britain, also one of the three diademed chiefs, also one of the three knights who had the conducting of mysteries.

Besides, the three unchaste matrons of Britain are Penarwen, Bun, and Esyllt Fingwen.

And the tale told by the Cymric race in Cambria and Armorica has resounded throughout southern Europe. There the mighty swineherd is the son of Roland and Blanchefleur, sister of Mark, king of Cornwall. Almost at the moment of his birth, she hears the tidings of his father’s death, and expires from the shock, calling her babe Tristan, or the sad. He grows up to be an accomplished knight, and after various adventures, is sent by his uncle, King Mark, to Ireland, to bring home the promised bride Ysolt the fair.

The mother of Ysolt gives her maid, Brengwain, a magic draught, which was to be administered to the pair on their bridal day, to secure their mutual affection. A storm rises on the voyage, and, intending to refresh her lady and the knight after his exertions and her alarm, Brengwain, in her confusion, gives them the fatal draught, and their passion for one another became the theme of the storytellers who preferred guilty love to high aspirations. Tristrem was married to another Ysolt called of the white hands, or of Brittany; he was dangerously wounded, and lay sick in her castle in Brittany. Nothing could cure him but the presence of Ysolt of Cornwall, and to her he sent his squire, with his ring, entreating, like the father of Theseus, that if she came to him the sails of the ship might be white, if she refused, the squire should hoist a black sail.

She came, but the wife, Ysolt of the white hands, falsely told the sick man that the sails were black; he sank back in despair and died, and Ysolt died of grief beside him.

Such is the story told by Thomas of Ercildoune, in the thirteenth century, as well as by hosts of romances.

Trust was really a Cymric name, and was called among the Picts Drust, or Drest. There is a Trust or Drust, MacTallaghi among the Pictish kings, who possibly may be the origin of Tristan, since many of the legends are common to Strath Clyde, Wales, and Cornwall. The Pictish Pendragon, who was elected at the time the Romans quitted Britain, was called by his countrymen Drust of the Hundred Battles, and many of his successors bore the same name, which means din, tumult, or loud noise, and thus may poetically be translated as a proclaimer or herald. Trwst ap Taran (tumult the son of thunder) was the poetical name of another of the line. The influence of Latin upon Welsh, however, made trist really mean sad, so that it was there accepted as suited to the melancholy circumstance of the hero’s birth; and Tristram, or sad face, became identified with the notion of sorrow; so that the child of St. Louis, born while his father was in captivity on the Nile, and his mother in danger at Damietta, was named Jean Tristan. Never would the cheerful Greeks have accepted such a name as Tristrem, Tristan, Tristano; but in Europe it regularly entered the ranks of the names of sorrow, and it was, no doubt, in allusion to it that Don Quixote accepted the soubriquet of the Knight of the Rueful Countenance. The earliest form of the name was Adsalutta, a Keltic goddess, whose name occurs in two inscriptions, one at Laybach and the other at Ratschöck in Istria. It is identified by the learned with Esyltt, and connected with Suraya, the Sungod of the Vedas.

Esyltt was the French Yseulte, or Ysoude, the Italian Isolta, and English Ysolte, Isolda, or Izolta, and in all these shapes was frequent in the families of the middle ages; recurring again and again in registers, down to the seventeenth century: indeed, within the last fifty years a person was alive who bore this romantic name in the form of Izod.

Tallwch is the torrent, and seems to have been translated into Roland, from the sound of rolling, when the Armorican bards laid claim to the great Paladin of Charlemagne’s court, on the score of his having been Warden of the Marches of Brittany, and wanted to make out that Roland was a name of their own. They had thus caused Rowland to be considered as a regular Cymric name.

King Mark himself was most probably a compromise between the Roman Marcus and the native march, which belongs to all the Kelts—nay, Pausanias tells us, meant a horse, in the dialect of the tribe who tried to take Delphi. Its fellow, mar, passed into Teutonic; named Marshalls, as Marskalk, or horse servant; and lives among us as our mare, in the feminine. Indeed, Marcus may itself be another instance of the Keltic element in Latin.

Marchell was the daughter of Tewdrig, king of North Wales, and, in 382, married Brychan, son of Cormac Mac Cairbre, one of the kings of Ireland. Her name was, no doubt, a mixture of the Keltic March and the Latin Marcella; and it was she who must have rendered the name of Marcella so common in Ireland.

The more common Gadhaelic word is, however, each, first cousin to equus, aspa, and many another word for the gallant animal.

Each was the saint who spent his life in Boyne Water, and was said to have uttered the curse that caused the battle of Magh Rath, a libel disproved by his previous death.

Each, in combination, has formed sundry names,—Eachmarchach, a sort of reduplication; Eachmilidh, horse-warrior; Eachaid, horseman, the most famous of them belonging to many kings, and rendered into Latin—Eochodius, or Equitius, the last not so incorrect. Auhy, or Atty, were the usual ways of rendering it; but these have been confounded with Arthur, and the name is lost.

Several other Eochaids were kings of Scotland, but they are grievously confused by Latinity, and, with the owners of the following name, turned into Eugenius; Eochaidbuidhe, or the fair-haired, appearing as Eugenius Flavus; and Eochoid Rinne Mhail as Eugenius Crooked Nose!

Another Eochaid has, by the capricious fancy of Scotland, been transmitted to us as Achaius. He is said to have been an ally of Charlemagne, and begun the custom of lending auxiliaries to the French, numerous Scotsmen coming to honour and dignity for their assistance in their conquest of Saxony. Achaius is also said to have married the sister of the king of the Picts, and formed an alliance with him against the Anglo-Saxons. While marching against the English forces, the cross of St. Andrew suddenly appeared in the sky giving assurance of victory, and, in consequence, was adopted as the ensign of the Picts, and afterwards of the Scots.

The “double tressure, flory and counterflory,” that surrounds the field where “the ruddy lion ramps in gold,” is also said to have been “first by Achaius worn,” though he was probably innocent of all armorial bearings, as he died in 819.

Eachan is the most usual form of the Highland name, and has for many years been, by general consent, converted into Hector.

The feminine Eacha is an old Irish name.[103]

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Footnote 103:

Chalmers; Villemarque; Mabinogion; O'Donovan; Pugh; Pitre; Chevalier; Sir W. Scott, Ed. of Sir Trestram.

SECTION VI.—Hoel and Ryence.

The romances of Arthur give him, among his many nephews, one named Hoel, Duke of Brittany, whose niece Helena was seized upon by the horrible giant Ritho, and devoured upon the top of Tombelaine.

This Hoel does not seem to have been a real character. His name Higuel, the lordly or conspicuous, was a common one in Wales and Brittany; and a prince so called seems really to have fled to Arthur for aid against the Franks, and to have returned with a fresh colony of Britons, by whose aid he became king of Armorica.

He reigned for thirty years, and died in 545, Other Hoels reigned after him, the third of whom is said to have been killed at Roncevalles.

In Wales, Hywel continued in favour, and Hywel-Dha, or the Good, who reigned in the tenth century, is famous for having gone to Rome to study law, by which he so profited as afterwards to draw up the famous code that has thrown so much light on the manners of the Cambrian mountaineers, the order of precedence in the king’s household, and even the price of animals. He signs King Athelstan’s charter as Hoel-Subregulus, or under king.

Hywel was a name in frequent use among the Welsh princes, and ‘highborn Hoel’s harp’ was frequently sounded, for various bards were so called.

Another Hoel was that unfortunate relative of Owen Glendower whom he was said to have killed and hidden in the blasted tree.

The giant Ritho is evidently a relation of Rhitta Gawr, who, in the Welsh stories, interfered to put a stop to a furious battle between two kings named Nynniaw and Peibiaw, who had quarrelled about the moon and stars. Rhitta Gawr defeated them both, and cut off their beards, and afterwards the beards of seventy-eight more kings who collected to avenge them. Of these eighty beards he made a mantle that reached from his head to his heels, for he was the largest man in Britain, and wore it as a warning to all to maintain law and order.

The romances of Arthur turned Rhitta Gawr into a fierce monarch called Rhyence, king of North Wales, an aggressor instead of a defender of justice, who, however, had his scarlet mantle purfled with the moderate number of eleven royal beards, and politely demanded that of King Arthur to complete the trimming, with what consequences no one acquainted with King Arthur can doubt.

Whence come the names of Ryence and Rhittar? They connect themselves closely with the universal words for ruler, the Gadhaelic righ, Teuton rik, Latin rex, and the rajah of India. Rhys is, in Welsh, a rushing man or warrior, and most likely comes from the same source; and Rhesus, the chieftain, slain by Ulysses and Diomed, on the night of his arrival before Troy, probably was called from some extinct word of the same origin.

At any rate Rhys has ever since been a Welsh name, sometimes spelt in English according to its pronunciation as Reece, and sometimes as Rice. It has furnished the surnames of Rice, Rees.

In Brittany we meet a saint called by the diminutive of Rhys, Riok, or Rieuk. His legend begins with one of the allegories that arose from the prophecy, that the weaned child should put his hand on the cockatrice’s den, for when he was almost an infant he was employed by the holy knight Derrien, to lead away in a scarf a terrible basilisk, whom the saint had tamed by making the sign of the cross over him. His parents were heathens, but were convinced by this miracle; and he became, in after years, a great saint, living for forty-one years on a rock on the sea-coast, eating nothing but herbs and little fish, and wearing a plain garment which when it wore out was supplied by a certain ruddy moss growing all over his body. His name has continued in use in Brittany.[104]

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Footnote 104:

Mabinogion; Pitre Chevalier, Bretagne; Mallory, Morte d'Arthur; Jones, Welsh Sketches.

SECTION VII.—Percival.

No name has had more derivations suggested for it than this. The Norman family so called came from Perche-val, the valley of the Perche; but as to the knight of romance, he was at first supposed to be Perce-val, pierce the valley, on the principle on which Percy was hatched out of Pierce-eye, and the story invented of the Piercie who thrust his spear with the keys dangling on it into the eye of Malcolm Ceanômor at Alnwick Castle. The romance of Perceforest was even named on the principle that it was as suitable to pierce the forest as the valley. Mr. Keightley derives the name from the Arabic Parse, or Parschfal, poor dummling, who appears to have been the hero of an Eastern tale of a wonderful cup, whence arose the mysterious allegory of the Holy Greal. A Provençal Troubadour, named Kyot, or Guiot, professes to have found at Toledo a book written in heathen characters by a magician, Saracen on the father’s side, but descended by his mother from Solomon. His book is lost, but two founded on it survive,—the German romance of Parzifal, by Wolfram von Eschenbach, and the Norman French, Sir Perceval, of Walter Mapes, Archdeacon of Oxford under Henry II.

Equally old, however, is a Welsh legend of Peredur, who is perhaps Pair-kedor, the warrior of the cauldron; Pair-cyfaill would then be champion of the cauldron, or bowl; Peredur was certainly a historical person, and may perhaps be the same as Perceval. Chrétien de Troyes has a long poem on the story of Perceval, and his adventures are almost identical with those of the Peredur of the Mabinogion.

The story of the orphan, stirred up to chivalry by the sight of the knight whom he took for an angel, the same as that of Mervyn les Breiz, here appears, and Perceval or Peredur shows some kindred with the dummling of Persia by his ignorance and dulness till he comes to the castle, where he sees the wounded king, the bleeding lance, and the Greal or bowl of pure gold, that are the great features in his history. Probably, the magic bowl was an Indo-European idea, but there seems to have been Druidic traditions about a magic bowl, which Bran the Blessed obtained from a great black man in Ireland, and which cured mortal wounds and raised the dead. It was one of the thirteen wonders of the Isle of Britain, and disappeared with Merddin in his glass vessel.

However, in the twelfth century, the ideas of this vessel had assumed a Christian form. It was the bowl used at the institution of the Holy Eucharist, and the lance was that of Longinus the centurion, brought to Bran by Joseph of Arimathea, and thenceforth its quest became the emblem of the Christian search for holiness through the world, only gratified by gleams here, but with full fruition hereafter. Perceval, once the companion and guard of the sacred Grail, gradually descended from his high estate, and became only a knight of the Round Table, high and pure of faith and spotless of life, but only on the same terms as the rest, and though not failing in the quest, still inferior to Galahad.

It is curious that his other name, Peredur, has by the sound been turned into Peter. One Robert de Barron tells, that from Bran, the Grail descended to Alan, and thence to Petrus his nephew; and a story of the Breton peasantry still gives the adventures of Perronik, like the original Peredur, an idiot at first, but sent to the Castle of Caerglas to fetch a diamond lance and golden cup, which would raise the dead by a touch.

The later French romances spoilt the nobleness and purity of Perceval’s character, but he is always one of the best of the knights, and succeeds in finding the Sanc-greal. But Galahad, the pure and virgin knight, son of Lancelot, and predestined to occupy the Siége Perilous at the Round Table, resist all temptation, conquer all peril, and finally obtain full fruition of the Greal, then, at his own desire, pass out of the world of sin and care, has, in England, taken the place once the right of Peredur or Perceval, though Wagner’s splendid ‘Parcifal’ has restored to him the chief place. I suspect him, as before said, to have been the separate produce of the story of Cattwg, first warrior, and afterwards hermit and saint, and that Galahad may have been an epithet from his starry purity.

In the Mabinogion, Perceval has a ladye love, whom, however, he only loves with distant chivalrous devotion, and who answers to his sister, who in Mallory’s beautiful story gave the blood from her own veins to heal a lady who could only be cured with the life-blood of a pure virgin.

In the Mabinogion her name is Angharad Law-eurag, or with the hand of gold, and Angharad, or the free from shame, the undisgraced (from angharz), was continued in Wales, but it is now generally considered as the equivalent of Anne, and thus accounts for Anna being universally called in romance the sister of Arthur, and mother of the traitor nephew Medrawd.

The Welsh Angharawd, probably the source of Ankaret, which occurs in the family of Le Strange in 1344, is generally supposed to mean an anchorite; but as it has no parallel on the Continent, it is much more likely to be the Welsh Angharad. Annan was, however, a separate name—for the three sprightly ladies of Britain are Annan, Angharad, and Perwyr.

Myfanwy is one of the unaccountable feminine Welsh names, not yet extinct among families of strong national feeling, though in general Fanny has been substituted for it. It may possibly be Mabanwy, child of the water, or else it may be My-manwy, my fine (or rare one).

The three primary bards of Britain were Plenydd, Alawn, and Gwron, whom Mr. Davies explains as light, harmony, and virtue. Plenydd, it is thought, is related to Belenus; and Alawn is erected by ardent Cymrians into the mythic Greek Olen, who is said to have been the first writer of hymns in hexameter, and whom the Delphic poetess, Boeo, calls a Hyperborean; this name is said to mean the flute-player. At any rate, I have found Alwn Aulerv in Welsh genealogies as brother of Bran the Blessed, and this must be the real origin of the Breton Alan. Elian and Hilarius were both used as its Latinisms.[105]

It is first found in early Breton history, then it came to England with Alan Fergéant, Count of Brittany, the companion of William the Conqueror, and first holder of the earldom of Richmond, in Yorkshire; and, indeed, one Alan, partly Breton, partly Norman, seems to have taken up his abode in our island before the Conquest, and four besides the count came after it. In the time of Henry I., one of these gentlemen, or his son, held Oswestry; and as these were the times when Anglo-Norman barons were fast flowing into Scotland, his son Walter married a lady, whom Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland calls Eschina, the heiress of Molla and Huntlaw, in Roxburghshire; and their son, another Alan, secured another heiress, Eva, the daughter of the Lord of Tippermuir; and, becoming high steward of Scotland, was both the progenitor of the race of Stuart, and the original of the hosts of Alans and Allens, who have ever since filled Scotland. That country has taken much more kindly to this Breton name than has England, in spite of Allen-a-dale, and of a few families where Allen has been kept up; but as a surname, spelt various ways, it is still common.

Like mare in Latin, and meer in Teuton, the Gaelic muir, Welsh môr, and Breton mor, are close kindred, and watery names derived from them abound.

King Arthur’s sister, Morgana, or Morgaine, Morgue la Fée, or La Fata Morgana, as she is variously termed in different tongues, was Morgan Maritime—the derivative from sea. From her, or from some lingering old Keltic notion in ancient Italy, the Sicilian fisherman connects the towers and palaces painted on the surface of the Mediterranean with La Fata Morgana, the lady of the sea.

Morgwn was the native name of the heresiarch, who called himself by the Greek equivalent Pelagius, and thus named the Pelagian heresy. Some writers say that sundry heretic names lingered about the Spanish Visigoths after their union with the Church, and instance both Ario, a distinguished author, and Pelayo, the Asturian Robert Bruce, as instances of names so borne. However this may be, Morgan has continued, even to the present day, to be very common in Wales.

Morvryn may be sea-king. “Morolt with the iron mace,” as romance calls him, the brother of Yseulte, who was killed by Sir Trystan, is called Morogh by his own countrymen in Ireland. It is the contraction of Muireadhach, or sea protector, a favourite Irish name, though, after degenerating into Morogh, it was usually rendered into Morgan, and so continues in modern Ireland. It is perhaps the same with Meriadek, or Meiriadwg, the title of Conan, the chieftain who is said to have colonized Brittany, and also with the Welsh Meredith, both as a Christian and a surname. In Ireland, the sons of Morogh became O'Muireadaig, and then contracted into Murray. Muredach is said to have reigned over the Scots from 733 to 736, and is transformed into Murdach, Murochat, Muirtec, Mordacus. It must have become mixed with Muircheartach, from ceart (a right), which has produced Moriertagh, Murtagh, or Morty, as a Christian name in Ireland; but it is now made into Mortimer. It is Murdoch in Scotland, once very common, and not yet extinct, and the North, adopting it with other Keltic names, calls it Kjartan.

Muirgis, once common in Ireland, is rendered by Maurice, or Morris, and Murchada has become Murphy.

And there is a name, still very common in the North of England, that I cannot help connecting with some of these, namely Marmaduke, which appeared among the chivalry of England about the thirteenth century, and has never become extinct. It is most likely a corruption of one or other of the sea names, in fact, it is not far from Muireadach; or it may be the offspring of the Scottish title, Maormar, from maor, a steward or officer, and mor, great, thus meaning the great officer of the crown, the term which prevailed before the Saxon Thegn or Danish Earl displaced it.[106]

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Footnote 105:

Villemarqué; Cambro-Britain; Mabinogion; Mallory, Morte d'Arthur.

Footnote 106:

Villemarque; Davies; Ellis; Cambro-Briton; Geoffrey of Monmouth; O'Donovan; Chalmers; Munch.

SECTION VIII.—Llew.

We find Llew, lion, naming Lleurwg ab Coel ab Cyllyn, also called Llewfer Mawr, the great light, and correctly translated by the Latin Lucius, the king who is said to have sent messengers to Rome to bring home Christianity, though some think Lucius a mere figment of Roman writers accepted by the bards.

Llew is the name given in Welsh genealogies to the king of the Orkneys, who married King Arthur’s sister, and was the father of Gwalchmai.

Llewel, lion-like, formed Llewelyn, which is not very early in Wales, unless the Sir Lionel of romance be intended to represent it. A Welsh Llewelyn seems to have come over to Ireland with Richard Strongbow, and his descendants, after passing through the stage of MacUighilins, are now the Quillinans.

The English have broken it down into Leoline. Llewelyn the Great of Wales was a contemporary of King John, and from this time the name has been much in use, partly from affection to the last native prince, Llewelyn ap Gruffyd, who perished at Piercefield. It is now usually Anglicized as Lewis for a Christian, Lewin for a family, name.

The old records of Brittany give a most graceful story of the saint who made Hervé a favourite in the duchy.

Hyvernion, a British bard, was warned by an angel in a dream to come to Armorica in quest of his wife. Near the fountain of Rivannon, he met a beautiful maiden drawing water, who, when he accosted her, sang “Though I am but a poor flower by the wayside, men call me the little queen of the fountain.” Perceiving that she was the damsel of his vision, he married her, and they had one child, who was born blind, and was named by his parents in their sorrow, Houerf, or bitter. His worm-eaten oaken cradle is still shown in the parish of Treflaouenan, as a relic, for the blind child became both monk and poet, and according to his maxim, ‘It is better to instruct a child than to gather wealth for him,’ he composed numerous simple and religious poems, which have been sung by the Breton peasantry through the twelve hundred years that have passed since the death of the blind bard; one of them, on the duties of a Christian child, is exceedingly beautiful. Arianwen, Silver woman, was another Welsh saint, whose name has continued in use.

Houerv, or Hervé, is not accepted in the Roman Calendar, but he was enthusiastically beloved in the country for which he had “made ballads,” and Hervé has been the name of peer and peasant there ever since his time. Hervé came over to us among the many adventurers who “came out of Brittany.” Two landowners so called are mentioned in Domesday Book, and the widely-spread surname of Harvey can hardly be taken from anything else, though some derive it from Heriwig, army war, a Teutonic word.

Here let us mention a Breton name, Tanneguy. There was a saint so called who founded an abbey at Finisterre, and who is claimed as a relation by the family of Du Chastel. It is curious to find Sir Tanneguy Du Chastel figuring among the heroes of Froissart, and making his old Christian name renowned.

But the local saints of the Kelts are far past enumeration, such as St. Monacella, or Melangell, whose Welsh name perhaps means honey-coloured or yellow. She was a little nun, who saved a hare hunted by Brocmael, prince of Powys, and is buried at Pennant Melangle. Also there was St. Sativola, or Sidwell, as she is called at Exeter, whose head was cut off by a mower with a scythe, and who had a well marking the spot, till the railway made away with it; but at least she appears in her own church, with her head in one hand and a scythe in the other, and she has a window in the cathedral. Once she had namesakes, but they are all gone now.

Einion is said to signify an anvil, in Welsh, though the word most like it in Dr. Owen Pugh’s dictionary is einioes, life. St. Einion was one of the early saints of the Cymry, after whom is named a spring at Llanvareth in Radnorshire. Another Einion was grandson of Howell Dha. The name is sometimes rendered by Æneas.

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I. THE TEUTON RACE

SECTION I.—Ground occupied by the Teutons.

The great mass of modern European nomenclature springs from the class of languages which it is convenient collectively to call Teutonic.

Nothing shows the identity of the entire Teutonic race more than the resemblance of the names in each of the branches. Many are found in each of the stems—Gothic, Scandinavian, and High and Low German—the same in sense, and with mere dialectic changes in sound, proving themselves to have sprung from a name, or from words, current in the original tribe before the various families parted from it. Others are found in some branches and not in others; but there are comparatively very few belonging to a single tongue, and the analyzation of one into its component words is never safe till the same name has been sought for in the cognate languages. All the more popular of these personal names have gone on a little in the rear of the spoken language of the country, undergoing changes, though somewhat more slowly. Then, perhaps, some famous character has, as it were, crystallized his name for ever in the form in which he bore it, and it has been so continued, ever after, in his own country, as well as imitated by others, who often have adopted it in addition to their own original national form of the very same.

The Teutonic names were almost all compounds of two words. Sometimes a single word was used, but this was comparatively rare. For the most part, families were distinguished by each person bearing the same first syllable, with other words added to it to mark the individual, much in the same way as we have seen was the custom of the Greeks. Some families, like the royal line of Wessex, would alternate between Æthel and Ead; others between Os and Sieg and the like. The original compounds forming names were expressive and well chosen; but it seems as if when once certain words had come into use as component parts of names, they were apt to be put together without much heed to their appropriateness or signification, sometimes with rather droll results. Their names were individual, but every man was also called the son, every woman the daughter, of the father; a custom that has not passed away from some parts of Norway, the Hebrides, or even the remoter parts of Lancashire, where, practically, the people use no surnames. A family was further collectively spoken of by the ancestor’s or father’s name, with the addition of ing, the derivative or patronymic; as, in France, the sons of Meervig were the Meerwingen; the sons of Karl, the Karlingen; not Merovingians and Carlovingians, as Latinization has barbarously made them. Remarkable features, or distinguished actions, often attached soubriquets to individuals, and these passed on, marking off families in the genealogical songs of the Scallds; and from these derivations, as well as from the fertile source of territorial terms, have most of our modern surnames arisen.

The words whence names were compounded were usually the names of deities and those of animals, together with epithets, or terms of office, generally conveying good auguries. They were usually connected with some great hero belonging to the various cycles of myth, in which the Teuton imagination revelled, and which, for the most part, under Christian influence, descended from the divine to the heroic, and then to the fairy tale.

These Teutonic centres of legend may be considered as threefold. There is the great Scandinavian mythological system, as elaborate and as poetical as that of the Greeks, and which belonged in part, at least, to the Goths, Franks, and Saxons, though their early conversion deprived it of five hundred years of development; and Louis le Debonnaire unfortunately destroyed the poetry that would have shown us what it had been among them.

Next, there is the cycle of Romance, represented in Scandinavia by the latter part of the elder Edda and by the Volsunga Saga, in Denmark by the Vilkina Saga, and in the centre of Europe by the Nibelungenlied, where old myths have become heroic tales that have hung themselves round the names of Attila the Hun and Theodoric of Verona, who in Germany is the centre of a great number of ancient legends, once doubtless of deified ancestors.

Thirdly, we have the grand poetical world, in which Charlemagne has been adopted as the sovereign, and Roland as the hero—the world of French romance, Spanish ballad, and Italian poetry, which is to continental chivalry what the Round Table is to our own.

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