[29]. Keightley’s Mythology; Cave’s Lives of the Fathers; Smith, Dictionary; Potter’s Euripides.
[30]. Smith, Dictionary; Keightley, Mythology; Montalembert.
Section X.—Heroic Names.
Not very many of the heroic names—glorious in poetry—have passed on; but we will select a few of those connected with the siege of Troy, and handed on upon that account. Mostly they were not easy of comprehension even to the Greeks themselves, and were not much copied among them, perhaps from a sense of reverence. It was only in the times of decay, and when the recollection of the fitness of things was lost, that men tried to cover their own littleness with the high-sounding names of their ancestors. Moreover, by that time, Greek associations were at a discount. Rome professed to descend from Troy, not from Greece; and, after her example, modern nations have tried to trace themselves back to the Trojan fugitives—the Britons to Brut, the French to Francus, &c.—and thus Trojan names have been more in vogue than Greek. However, be it observed that the Trojan names are Greek in origin. The Trojans were of Pelasgic blood, as well as most of their opponents; but they were enervated by residence in Asia, while the superior race of Hellenes had renovated their Greek relatives; making just the difference that the Norman Conquest did to the English Saxon in opposition to his Frisian brother.
One of these inexplicable names was borne by Ἀχιλλεύς (Achilleus), the prime glory of Homer and of the Trojan war. The late Greek traditions said that his first name had been Ligyron, or the whining, but that he was afterwards called Achilles, from Α privative and χέιλη (cheile), lip; because he was fed in his infancy on nothing but lions' hearts and bears' marrow. This legend, however, looks much as if the true meaning of the word had been forgotten, and this was a forgery to account for it. However this may be, modern Greece and France alone repeat the name, and it is much disguised by the French pronunciation of Achille. A martyr in Dauphiné was called Achilles; and an Achilla appears, as a lady, early in the Visconti pedigree.
Gallant Hector, who, perhaps, is the most endearing of all the Trojan heroes, from the perfection of his character in tenderness, devotion, and courage, and the beautiful poetry of his parting with his wife and son, bore a name that is an attribute of Zeus, Ἕκτωρ (holding fast), i. e., defending, from Ἕχω (hecho), to have or to hold—a word well-befitting the resolute mainstay of a falling cause.
Italy, where the descent from the Trojans was early credited and not, perhaps, impossible, is the only country where his name has been genuinely imitated, under the form of Ettore. The Hector of Norway is but an imitation of the old Norse Hagtar (hawk of Thor), and the very frequent Hector of Scotland is the travestie of the Gaelic Eachan (a horseman). In like manner the Gaelic Aonghas (excellent valour) and the Welsh Einiawn (the just), are both translated into Æneas; indeed it is possible that the early Welsh Saint, Einiawn, may indeed have been an Æneas; for, in compliment to the supposed descent of the Julii from Æneas, this name is very common in the latter times of the empire: it appears in the book of Acts, and belonged to several writers. Latterly, in the beginning of the classical taste of Italy, the name of Enea Silvio was given to that Piccolomini who afterwards became a pope. This form is in honour of that son of Æneas and Lavinia who was said to have been born in a wood after his father’s death. A son of the Earl of Hereford was called Æneas (temp. Ed. III).
The pious Æneas owes his modern fame to Virgil. In the time of Homer, even his goddess-mother had not raised him into anything like the first rank of the heroes who fought before Troy. His name in the original is Αἰνείας (Aineias), and probably comes from αἰυέο (aineo), to praise.
The poem that no doubt suggested the Æneid, the Homeric story of the Greek wanderer, contains some of those elements that so wonderfully show the kindred of far distant nations. We are content to call this wonderful poem by something approaching to its Greek title, though we are pleased to term the hero by the Latin travestie of his name—Ulysses, the consequence, it is supposed, of some transcriber having mistaken between the letters Δ and Λ. The Romans, likewise, sometimes called him Ulixes; the Greek σσ and ξ being, by some, considered as the same letter. Οδυσσεύς (Odysseus), his true name, is traced to the root δυς (dys), hate, the Sanscrit dvish, and from the same source as the Latin odio. Italians talked of Uliseo, and Fenelon taught the French to honour his favourite hero as le fils du grand Ulisse; but the only place where the name is now used is Ireland, probably as a classicalism for the Danish legacy of Ulick—Hugleik, or mind reward. The Irish Finnghuala (white shoulders) was not content with the gentle native softenings of her name into Fenella and Nuala, but must needs translate herself into Penelope; and it is to this that we owe the numerous Penelopes of England, down from the Irish Penelope Devereux, with whom is connected the one shade on Sidney’s character, to the Pen and Penny so frequent in many families.
The faithful queen of Ithaca was probably named Πηνελόπη, or Πηνελόπεια, from her diligence over the loom, since πήνη (pēnē) is thread on the bobbin, πηνίζομαι is to wind it off; but a later legend declared that she had been exposed as an infant, and owed her life to being fed by a kind of duck called πηνέλοψ (penelops), after which she was therefore called. This has since been made the scientific name of the turkey, and translators of Christian names have generally set Penelope down as a turkey-hen, in oblivion that this bird, the D'Inde of France, the Wälsche Hahn of Germany, always in its name attesting its foreign origin, came from America 3000 years after the queen of Ithaca wove and unwove beneath her midnight lamp.