Surnames as a Science. Robert Ferguson

Book of Llandaff)

In comparing Catualda with the British Cadwalladyr I am noting an additional point of coincidence. Catualda is not, like other Old German names, from wald, rule, but from walda, ruler. There is only one other Old German name in the same form, Cariovalda,[5] also a very ancient name, being of the first century. This then may represent the older form, though this is not what I wish at present to note, but that Catualda is the counterpart of the British Cadwalladyr, which also is not from gualed, rule, but from gualedyr, ruler.

      In suggesting that this coincidence may be confined within certain lines I mean to guard against the assumption that it would, as in the case of the language, be found to pervade the whole system, many of the formations of which may be of a more recent time. There are some other stems, considered by the Germans to be in coincidence, to only one of which I will refer at present, the Old Celtic tout, Welsh tûd = the Gothic thiuda. Hence the name Tudric, of a British king of Glamorgan, would be the counterpart of that of the Gothic king Theuderic, or Theoderic. I will take one more instance of a name presumed to be common to the Germans and to the Celts as an illustration of the manner in which—men's names being handed down from generation to generation without, even in ancient times, any thought of their meaning—a name may survive, while the word from which it was originally derived has perished out of the language, or is retained in a sense so changed as hardly to be recognised. The German name in question is that of Sigimar, the brother of Arminius, dating from the first century of our era, a name which we still have as Seymore, and in its High German form Sicumar we have as Sycamore, intermediate Anglo-Saxon names being found for both. The prefix sig is taken, with as much certainty as there can be in anything of the kind, to be from sig, victory; the ending mar, signifying famous, is a word to which I have already referred as common both to the Germans and to the Celts. Segimar was also an ancient Celtic name, but while the ending mar has a meaning to-day in Celtic speech, the prefix seg is a word of which they are hardly able to render any account. Only in the Old Irish (which seems to contain some of the most ancient elements) Gluck, finding a word seg with the meaning of the wild ox, urus, deduces from it the ancient meaning of strength (Sansc. sahas, vis, robor), and infers an original meaning akin to the German.

      It happens, perhaps yet more frequently, that a German name, which cannot be explained by anything within the range of Teutonic dialects, may find a sufficient etymon from the Celtic. That is to suppose that a word originally common to the Teutonic and the Celtic, has dropped out of the former, and been retained only in the latter. Thus there is a word arg, arch, found in many Teutonic names, and from which we have several names, as Archbold, Archbutt, Archard, Argent, Argument, for which the meaning that can be derived from the German seems very inadequate, but for which the Irish arg, hero or champion, seems to offer as good a meaning as could be desired. So also all, from which, as elsewhere shown, there are a number of names, in its Teutonic sense of omnis, does not seem to give by any means so satisfactory a result as in its Celtic sense of "great" or, "illustrious." Many other instances might be adduced on both sides to show the way in which a word has dropped out of the one language and been retained in the other.

      Before passing from this part of the subject, I may be allowed to adduce an illustration—a striking one I think, albeit that the name in this case is not that of a man but of a dog—of the way in which a name may be retained in familiar use, though the word from which it is derived has perished out of the language, though the language itself has passed out of use among us for more than a thousand years, and though the word itself is only used in a sort of poetical or sentimental sense. Who has not heard, in verse or in prose, of the "poor dog Tray"? And yet who ever heard, excepting in books, of a dog being called Tray, a word which conveys no meaning whatever to an English ear? What then is the origin, and what is the meaning, of the name? It is, I venture to think, the ancient British name for a dog, which is not to be found in any living dialect of the Celtic, and which is only revealed to us in a casual line of a Roman poet:—

      Non sibi, sed domino, venatur vertragus acer, Illæsum leporem qui tibi dente feret. Martial.

The British vertrag must have been something of the nature of a greyhound, though, from the description of his bringing back the game unmangled to his master, perhaps capable of a higher training than the greyhound generally attains to. Now the ver in vertrag is in the Celtic tongues an intensitive, and as prefixed to a word, gives the sense of preeminence. The ancient British word for a dog in general must have been trag, a word of which we find a trace in the Irish traig, foot, allied, no doubt, to Gothic thragjan, Greek τρεχειν, Sanscrit trag, to run. The ancient British name then for a dog, trag signified the "runner," and with the intensitive prefix ver, as in vertrag, the "swift runner."[6] And trag is, I take it, the word from which, g as usual in English becoming y, is formed our word Tray.

      It may be of interest, in connection with the antiquity of our names, to take a few of the oldest Teutonic names of which history gives us a record, and endeavour to show the relationship which they bear to our existing surnames. It will be seen that not only have we the representatives of these ancient names, but also in certain cases names which represent a still more ancient form of the word.

And first let us take the name, dating back to the first century of our era, of the old German hero Arminius, brought before us with such magnanimous fairness by Tacitus. The old idea, let me observe, that Armin is properly herman, leader or warrior, has long been given up by the Germans. The name, of which the most correct form is considered to be Irmin, is formed from one single word of which the root is irm, and the meaning of which is, as Grimm observes, entirely obscure. We have then as English surnames Armine, Ermine, and Harmony, the last, no doubt, a slight corruption, though, as far as the prefix of h is concerned, it is as old as Anglo-Saxon times, for we find "Harmines den," Harmine's valley, in a charter quoted by Kemble. Then we have compounded with gar, spear, and corresponding with an O.G. Irminger—Arminger, Irminger,[7] and again as a corruption, Iremonger. And, compounded with hari, warrior, and corresponding with an O.G. Irminhar, we have Arminer. And, as a Christian name of women, one at least of our old families still retains the ancient name Ermentrude, the ending trude, as found also in Gertrude, being perhaps from the name Thrud, of one of the Valkyrjur, or battle-maidens of Odin. The French also, among the many names derived from their Frankish ancestors, have Armingaud, Armandet, and Ermingcard, corresponding with the ancient names Irmingaud, Irmindeot, and Irmingard. And Irminger, as I write, comes before me in the daily papers as the name of a Danish admiral. But Irmin is not the oldest form of the name—"the older and the simple form," observes Foerstemann, "runs in the form Irm or Irim," and with this also we can claim connection in our family names. For we have the simple form as Arms and Harme; and as compounds we have Armiger, corresponding with an O.G. Ermgar; Armour, with an O.G. Ermhar; and Armgold, with an O.G. Ermegild. Lastly, I may observe that both Irm and Irmin are found also by Stark as ancient Celtic names. And certainly there is no stem more likely than this, of the origin of which all trace is lost in the darkness of the past, to be one that is older than the Arian separation.

      The name Sigimar, of the brother of Arminius, I have already shown that we have, not only in its own form as Seymore, but also in its High German form as Sycamore, the Anglo-Saxon names from which they may be taken to be more immediately derived being also found in the chapter on place-names. And I have also shown that we have the name Cariovalda (or Harwald) of a prince of the Batavi, of the first century, in our Harold.

      There was another old hero of the German race, not so fortunate as Arminius in finding an historian in a generous foe, whose name only comes before us in a line of Horace:—

      Occidit Daci