History of Christian names

by Charlotte M. Yonge

On the contrary, before Latin was born, the dialects that had produced Latin names were decaying, and those who, by inheritance, bore the scanty stock that came down to them, were often at a loss for their meaning; nor in general is it so much the names actually borne by ancient Romans, as appellations formed out of the Latin language, that have been the Latin contribution to Christian nomenclature. The universal victors chiefly spread Roman names by adopting the conquered as their clients, and conferring their own nomina when they bestowed the right of citizenship.

Keltic still lives in its corners of the world, and its old names have for the most part continued in use, but usually each with a name by the side from some more fashionable tongue, supposed to translate it to the civilized ear. For instance, Tadhg, which means, in Erse, a poet, is called in English speech, Teague or Thady; and then further transformed into the Aramean Thaddeus (praise); or the Greek Timothy (honour God); with an utter loss of the true association.

The Teutonic names are taken from the elder branches of the Teuton languages, before they became commingled in different degrees with the later progeny of Latin, and with one another. We here use the word Teutonic, because it is the most convenient term by which to express the class of languages spoken by the great Germanic family, though we are aware that it is not absolutely correct as a class-appellation including the whole. Iceland and Scandinavia use their ancient tongue, but slightly altered, and there may be found the true forms and interpretations of the greater number of the appellations in common use. Modern German continues the old High German, but it is no safe guide to the meaning of names which belong to a much earlier form than that in which we now see it, and it has only created a few modern ones of its own. Anglo-Saxon explains most of its own names, but it cannot be safely trusted without comparison with the other branches. It was a language deteriorated by the Norman conquest, just as the Norse of the invaders had been previously smothered by their conquest of Neustria, and the English which grew up among them used more of the High Dutch names adopted by the Normans in France, than of its own Anglo-Saxon ones; and only after the Reformation was there an attempt, and that not a very successful one, at the fabrication of native English names. France kept Dutch names, and clipped them, while High Dutch minced Latin. Lombardy, too, used the old heroic names of the fair-haired barbarians, even while its speech was constant to the flowing Latin; and Spain has much more of the nomenclature than of the tongue of her Goths.

The Slavonic has corrupted itself, but become Christian, and has sent a few names of great leaders into the general stock of nomenclature, which has been formed by contributions from these six original branches, with a few chance additions from other quarters.

Each nation had a stock of its own at first, but as tribes became mixed, their names were interchanged, and varied by the pronunciation of those who adopted them; and when Christianity produced real union, making the saint of one country the glory and example of the entire Church, the names of the holy and the great became a universal link, and a token of the brotherhood established from land to land.

It was not at first, however, that this fusion of names commenced. The first Christians were Jews, with Hebrew, Aramean, Greek, or Latin names of their own, and their converts already bore Greek or Latin appellations, which were seldom altered. In the case of the Romans, children almost necessarily succeeded to family names, and the Greeks alone could at first exercise any choice, forming words of Christian meaning for their children, or adopting those of their revered instructors in the faith; and afterwards, persons using the Latin tongue, but not encumbered with the numerous names of a citizen, followed their example. The Teutons, when converted, were baptized by the names they already bore, and gave the like to their children; nor does it seem to have been till the older forms of the languages were expiring, that the introduction of old saintly names became by any means frequent. When names were mere appellations, not descriptions, a favourite character was sought for in the legends of the saints, and the child was dedicated to, or placed under the protection of, the patron whose name he bore. The theory was, that the festival in the calendar on which the birth took place, established the claim of the infant to the care of the patron, and thus fixed the name, an idea which still prevails in the Greek Church, but it was more usual to select a favourite patron, and instead of keeping the child’s birth-day, to feast him upon the holy day of the saint, a custom still observed in Roman Catholic countries.

The system of patron saints was greatly established by the veneration of relics. It was the presence of a supposed fragment of the body that was imagined to secure the protection of the saint to country, to city, to village, or family; and often the ‘translation’ of a relic can be traced as the cause of the nationality of a name, as the Diego of Spain, the Andreas of Flanders, the Marco of Venice, the Adrianus of Holland, the Radegonde of Poitiers, the Anne of Prague. Or the prominence of a fresh doctrine is shown in nomenclature, as by the outburst of Scripture names in all Calvinist countries; so that in French pedigrees, Huguenotism may be traced by the Isaacs and other patriarchal apparitions in the genealogy, and Puritanism has in England produced the quaint Old Testament appellations to be found in every parish register. On the other hand, the increasing devotion to the Blessed Virgin is indicated by the exaggerated use of Mary in Roman Catholic lands, the epithets coupled with it showing the peculiar phases of the homage paid to her, and almost gauging the amount of superstition in the country.

Religion has thus been in general the primary guide to individual nomenclature, and next in order must be ranked the family feeling that renders Christian names almost hereditary. In many places where primitive customs are kept up, it was an almost compulsory token of respect to call the eldest son after his paternal grandfather. This has indeed been almost universal. The ancient Greeks always did so unless the grandfather were alive, in which case the child was thought to take his place by bearing his name, and thus to bring death upon him.

In Scotland and in the north of England, the paternal grandfather and grandmother have namesakes in the eldest son and daughter, then comes the turn of the grand-parents on the mother’s side, then of the parents themselves, after which fancy may step in. In Germany the same practice prevails as regards the two eldest; and likewise in the south of France, where the child, whatever its sex, bears the grandfather’s name, thus accounting for various uncouth feminines; but though thus christened, the two eldest children are never so called, but always by the diminutive of their surname.

However, distinguished, or wealthy, or beloved godparents interfered with these regular successions, and in this manner queens have been the great conductors of female names, bestowing them on their nobility, from whom they spread to the commonalty.