History of Christian names

by Charlotte M. Yonge

This lasted till the horrors of the Revolution, and the aggressions that followed it, awoke Germany to a sense of her own powers and duties as a nation. Her poets and great men were thoroughly national in spirit; and though, after the long and destructive contest, she emerged with her grand Holy Roman Empire torn to shreds, her electoral princes turned into petty kings, her noble Hanse towns mostly crushed and absorbed in the new states, her Kaisar merely the Markgraf of Austria, enriched by the spoils of Lombardy and the Slavonic kingdoms, yet she had recovered the true loyalty to the fatherland and its institutions, cared again for her literature and her language, and had an enthusiasm for her own antiquities, a desire to develop her own powers.

German names, to a degree, reflect this. They have ceased to ape Latin or French. So far as any are literary, they come from their own national literature; but as in most of the states only ordinary names are registered, the variety is not great. More and more German names pass to England in each generation, and become naturalized there; but the same proportion of English do not seem to be returned.

Bavaria, having been always Roman Catholic, has more saintly names than most other parts of Germany, and, in particular, uses those of some of the less popular apostles, who probably have been kept under her notice by the great miracle plays.

Switzerland, once part of the empire, though free for five hundred years back, is a cluster of varying tongues, races, languages, and religions,—Kelt and Roman, Swabian and Burgundian, Romanist, Lutheran, Calvinist, German, French, Italian. Names and contractions must vary here; but only those on the German side have fallen in my way, those about Berne, which are chiefly remarkable for the Ours and Ursel, in honour of the bears, and Salome among the women; the diminutive always in li.

Section VIII.—Scandinavia.

Grand old Northmen! They had their own character, and never lost it; they had their own nomenclature, and kept it with the purity of an unconquered race.

The few influences that affected their nomenclature were, in the first place, in some pre-historic time, the Gaelic. Thence, when Albin and Lochlinn seem to have been on friendly terms, they derived Njal, Kormak, Kylan, Kjartan, Mælkoln, and, perhaps, Brigitte. Next, in Denmark, a few Wend names were picked up; and, in fact, Denmark being partly peopled by Angles, and always more exposed, first to Slavonic, and then to German influences, than the North, has been less entirely national in names.

In the great piratical days the Northmen and Danes left their names and patronymics to the northern isles, from Iceland to Man, and even in part to Neustria and Italy. Oggiero and Tancredi, in the choicest Italian poems, are specimens of the wideness of their fame. Our own population, in the north-east of England, is far more Scandinavian than Anglian, and bears the impress in dialect in manners, and in surnames, though the baptismal ones that led to them are, in general, gone out of use.

Christianity did not greatly alter the old northern names, though it introduced those of the universally honoured saints. But the clergy thought it desirable—and chiefly in Denmark—to take more ecclesiastical names to answer to their own; so Dagfinn was David; Sölmund, Solomon; Sigmund, Simon; and several ladies seem to have followed their example, so that Astrida and Griotgard both became Margarethe, and Bergliot Brigitte.

The popular nomenclature has included all the favourite saints with the individual contractions of the country. The royal lines have been influenced by the dynasties that have reigned. Gustaf grew national in Sweden after the disruption of the union of Calmar, and Denmark alternated between Christiern and Friedrich; but the main body of the people are constant to Olaf and Eirik, Ingeborg and Gudrun; and in the Norwegian valleys the old immediate patronymic of the father is still in use. Linnea as a feminine from Linnæus, the Latinism of their great natural historian’s surname is a modern invention. Linne itself means a lime tree.