The monastery of Saint Martin of Tours at Muri is in the Canton of Aargau, in the Diocese of Basel (previously Diocese of Constance).  It was founded in 1027 by Radbot, Count of Habsburg. This is its coat of arms.
Ha! You say, clearly Muri does refer to walls in Slavic, i.e., “mury”.  That being the case the word comes from Latin (perhaps via German – Mauer = wall).  Consequently, the name of the town – by itself – proves little.

Yet what is interesting are the Acta Murensia (Acta fundationis monasterii Murensis).  These Acta are the story of the founding of the abbey.  They were written by an unknown Benedictine monk sometime about the year 1160 though they appear to be based, at least in part, on earlier sources.  They are mostly known for the description of the early history of the Hapsburgs who were the sponsors of the Abbey.  The Muri city archives contain a manuscript copy of the original Acta which copy was written about 1400.  This seems to be the only copy of the Acta.  Already Šafárik noticed that the Acta contain a curious passage which begins as  follows:

“Althuesern primitus silva fuit, sed exstirpata est ab hominibus [homines?], qui vocantur Winida“

This translates, roughly to:

“Althuesern was originally a forest but it was cut down by people called the Wends [Winidi]”

So is it the case that we had Slavs deep in Switzerland?  If so, when did they get there?

We note too that among the towns listed below the mention of the Wends are the following:

• Mure (our Muri);
• Butwil
• Wolen
• Hermenswil
• Althuesern
• Birchi

All of these look either unquestionably (Althuesern, Hermenswil) or possibly German except for Mure and Wolen.  Wolen and its variations we see all over Slavic lands.  We also see Zwolen in Slavic countries or Zwolle in the Netherlands (from Suole (that is true) which, in turn, comes supposedly from “swollen” like a “hill” (which seems rather a stretch or, if you will, a swelling of truth)).

This is the complete edition from Fridolin Kopp’s 1750 edition of the text (Vindiciae Actorum Murensium).

This was noticed already in the 19th century with such Slavic names as Khunitz, Bumplitz, Czernez, Gradetz, Krimentza, Luc, Visoye or Grona.  Ketrzynski himself argued that Constance’s original name was Kostnitz (this is far less certain).

For other Slavic names in the Swiss area see here.

Mit einer banier rôtgevar,
daß was mit wîße durch gesniten
hûte nâch wendischen siten

Copyright ©2016 jassa.org All Rights Reserved

Incidentally, Ketrzynski argued that the Saale – known earliest by the name Solava/Souava (hence Solaviane/Slaviane/Souaviane/Souavi?) – was also known by another Slavic name, i.e., Sala (presumably a shorter version of Solava).  Similar names are also present in Poland and elsewhere.  But what was the basis for this claim?

Apparently, on the following note in the Annales Reinhardsbrunnenses (Annals of the Reinhardsbrunn monastery) (2nd half of the 12th century):

“Sicque in orientalem Saxoniam provectus, super ripam fluminis, quod Slavica lingua Sale dicitur…”

“Thus, in eastern Saxony he advanced, on the bank of a river which in the Slavic language is called Sala…”

 

Here is Reinhardsbrunn – close enough to Slav lands so the monks probably knew what they were talking about :

Now our favoroute cantankerite Aleksander Brueckner, much as he did with the Rura, had an irrefutable argument against Ketrzynski’s interpretation:

“I am likewise not impressed [!] by the other citations [of Ketrynski’s], for example [the above] – what could this in the best case prove?”

With logicians like this, no wonder that Slavic studies made such great progress at the turn of the prior century.

This from Ketrzynski:

And Muellenhoff… oh Muellenhoff… we will have something to say about his “emendations” soon.

Copyright ©2016 jassa.org All Rights Reserved

Here is a map of the rivers Lippe (Lippa in the Ravenna Cosmography but earlier in Roman sources Lupia) (in the north) and Ruhr (in the south) noting Soest and Paderborn (Bor? Brn?) from our prior post plus adding in blue the location of Kamen as well as of Cracow (no longer present but see here or here for old maps).

But why add the Ruhr? The German word may have been Rohr meaning “tube”.  The Slavic word for a “pipe” is “rura” and the name of this river in Slavic is, to this day, Rura. Now, to add an overlay to this, in Latin “rus” means countryside/village – e.g., rustic.  And, of course, the word rural has the same connotation.  Consequently, it is rather difficult to tell what came from what. and how.

What is interesting however is that a 13th century history of a monastery at Waldsassen (Fundatio Monasterii Waldsassensis) says this:

“There is a stream in parts of Westphallia that is commonly called the Southern or Slavic Rura.”

“Quidam torrens est in partibus Westfalle, qui vulgariter Rura Australis seu Slavica nuncupatur.”

Now, Waldsassen Abbey is on today’s border with the Czech lands so the inhabitants would have known what a Slav is.

Moreover, the name of the river was first recorded as Rura (in 796 as per Hans Krahe – see his “Unsere ältesten Flussnamen”).  One does not need to have a doctorate to recognize that Slavic languages  typically produce an -a ending for a river.  The Germanic, on the other hand, do not.  The reason for this seems rather simple – that is in Germanic (to the extent a version of Germanic preserves articles) the name Fluss is masculine.  In Slavic, reka/rzeka is feminine.  Thus we have Wisla (but Weichsel), Odra (but Oder), Nysa (but Neisse), Lipa (but Lippe), Wezera (but Weser), Tamiza (but Thames) and so forth and so on.  And this is true for Rura (or maybe Vira as per below) (but Rohr, Roehre, Ruhr).  We know the name Rura in that form is not Germanic but maybe it’s Celtic?     (And was there a northern Rura?  In the Netherlands perhaps? Check out Dutch river names.)

But then why would it be called a Slavic Rura?  The only conceivable reason seems to be that there were Slavs somewhere in the neighborhood of the Rura.  If the river name was Celtic then it must have gotten pretty crowded there by the Rura with all the Germans and Slavs coming in…

So when the Masurians settled in the Ruhr in the 19th century, could it be said that they were just coming home? A kind of a silent “Wiedereroberung”?

Surely, there must be an explanation that makes sense?  Well, the choleric Aleksander Brueckner presented a very strong argument to dispel any notion of the Slavic nature of the river:

“I won’t even deign to guess, where this crazy combination [Slavic Rura] may have come from.”

And there you have it ladies & gents.

Copyright ©2016 jassa.org All Rights Reserved

Abu Yahya Zakariya’ ibn Muhammad al-Qazwini or Zakarya Qazvini ‎(probably dated to the 13th century) was an Arab or Persian (from Kazvin) traveler.  His reports (called the Monument of Places and History of the Servants of God  or Athar al-bilād wa-akhbar al-‘ibād) were partly printed by Georg Jacob in 1896 (see “Ein arabischer Berichterstatter aus dem 10 Jahrhundert über Fulda, Schleswig, Soest, Paderborn und andere Städte des Abendlandes”).  As the title suggests these reports are dated to the 10th century (apparently including reports from Al-Turtushi, Al-Udri, Al-Bekri).

In his Book 7 al-Qazwini describes the neighborhood of Soest, the country of Mieszko and then of Paderborn.  Here is a map showing the location of Soest and Paderborn:

And here is the text (we include Jacob’s translation):

Soest

“Schuschit [Soest] is a town in the land of the Slavs.  There lies a salty spring, while there otherwise is no salt in that area.  When the people need salt, they take water from this source, fill with it a pot and set it on a stone oven and make a great fire underneath so that it becomes thick and turbid.  Then it sits until it becomes cold and turns into hard, white salt.  In this way is salt made in all the lands of the Slavs.”

Mieszko

“Mischqo [Mieszko] is a spacious town in the land of the Slavs on the shore of a lake/sea in a deep forest, which cannot be penetrated by armies.  The name of their King is Mischqo, and it [the town] is known by his name.  She is a town that is rich in grains, honey, meat and fish.  Their King has army made up of foot soldiers because horses cannot ride in his land [because of the thicket].  Also he imposes taxes in his Kingdom, so that he can pay his army for their maintenance monthly.  And in case of need he gives them steeds, saddles, bridles, weapons and all that they need.  When someone is born, whether it be a boy or a girl, the King provides for the babe.”

“When the child becomes an adult, he marries him, if he is a man, and takes from his father bridal funds and gives it to the father of the bride and the bridal funds are very high by them [these people].  Thus, if a man has two or three daughters, he becomes rich; but if he has two or three sons he becomes poor.  The marriage/wedding occurs at the discretion of the King, not out of free will, and the King provides the pledges for the provisions and covers the costs of the wedding.  He is like a tender, caring father for his underlings.  The jealousy of their women is great in comparison to the other Turks.”

Paderborn

“Waterbrunn [Paderborn] is a town in the land of the Slavs close to the town of Schuschit [Soest].   There there is a wonderful spring called Honeyspring.*  She is to be found on a mountain in the vicinity of a forest.  Its water tastes in the beginning like honey, but then has a bile aftertaste, which had seeped into it from the trees that grow around it [the spring].”

* Methbrunnen?  So we have the Arab word for “honey” and we have the word “Meth-brunnen.”  Now the Slavic miod/med has as its counterpart in Germanic languages “mead” (e.g., OHG metu).  Both have been known to mean honey (the Slavic to this day) so no solution here seemingly.

So What Does This Mean?

Georg Jacob rushes to explain that Arabs used the term Saqaliba “frequently in a eider sense that our concept of ‘Slavs'” and often expanded it to cover the Germani.

Typically dismissive is also the faux-erudite German historian Aleksander Brueckner* who, in reference to al-Qazwini’s report, sneers (in a culturally “sensitive” statement) that “we know what to think of such imprecision of the Arabs” concluding that “[al-Qazwini]’s testimony is worthless.”  (We say “concluding” in the colloquial sense.  Since, as is typical of Brueckner, there is a lack of any analysis to back up his statements, his conclusion is probably better termed an “assertion.”)

* Brueckner rather pathetically claims that “we” [the “royal” we] would rather believe Caesar and Tacitus and melodramatically states that “no false translation will shake our [again, royal] conviction, if we are not to give up on these sources altogether.”  Of course, no one asked him to do that as neither Caesar nor Tacitus mention the Deutsche or the Slavs under either of those names.  Though the fact that Brueckner would trust Tacitus who never visited Germania before Arab travelers who actually did (and closer in time) speaks volumes about the nature of Brueckner’s “conviction.”  (Incidentally, Brueckner is perhaps the chief asshole of turn of the century Slavicists – a wart on the butt of Sclavinia that just won’t go away.  More on that later.)

There is no reason (absent preconceived notions) to question al-Qazwini’s report.  In fact:

• The compiler of this report interposes a reference to the Slavs of Soest and Paderborn with the report on Mieszko’s country showing intention of grouping these reports together.  Why do that, unless he thought that these were all in reference to the same people?  (No doubt if the Mieszko report preceded or followed the Soest/Paderborn report, Jacob and Brueckner would argue that they are separate parts of the reports).

• There is little evidence of Germans being called Slavs by Arab travelers.  The only instance of that may be in Masudi’s report.  While Otto I is in fact called King of the Slavs in two reports, that description, in his case, is accurate (if confusing) – and, to be clear, he is not called a Slav himself.  In any event, what other Arab writers knew is somewhat irrelevant.  The question is this particular writer or writers.  And in all of al-Qazwini’s reports, the authors distinguish, e.g., Slavs from Franks.

• While the reference to Slavs as Turks may be confusing, the whole report regarding Mieszko apparently comes from Ibrahim bin Yaqub’s report – the other two pieces regarding Soest and Paderborn, however, are not in bin Yaqub’s story.  And they are clear (the first one even repeating the word Slavs twice) on the Slav point.

• Soest is of uncertain origin but if Terg-este (Triest) is supposed to mean “marketplace” (Targ-jest) and Br-est is to mean a “place where there is a shoreline” (Breg-jest) then So-est could refer to Sol-jest, i.e., “place where there is salt.”  Certainly, in keeping with “al-Qazwini”‘s report.

• Separately, the town’s Latin name is Susatium/Susata and the Soestbach may have been called Sus-ata or *Sus-ila – whether that has anything to do with the Slavic Susli tribe should be, at least, asked.  That Þiðrekssaga makes Soest the capital of Attila is, of course, an added bonus.

• Further, note that Gervaise of Tillsbury says the following: “Inter Saxoniam et Wasfaliam est Albis fluvius.  Est autem Wasfalia terra, cuius gentes Suevi dicuntur.”  But who were these Suevi – were they the North Suavi?  And who were the North Suavi?  Suevi, Slavs, so difficult to distinguish after all.

• both Soest and Paderborn lie in a very interesting area of West Germany, namely between the Lippe (Lippa) and the Ruhr.  We’ve already mentioned that the former river has interesting connotations (as well as having a town called Kamen on its shores) and that not far from where the latter joins the Rhein there was once a town called Cracow… But did you know that the Ruhr itself had been called the Rura in Slavic?  Well, big deal, it still is, you say?  Except that that name was mentioned as a “Slavic Rura” for the river already in the 13th century (and it had been called the Rura in the first record of its name – in the 8th century).  But there should not have been any Slavs there, right?  So why would they have attached “Slavic” to a name of that river?

Copyright ©2016 jassa.org All Rights Reserved

Pirins

This is the Pirin mountain range in Bulgaria.

It’s quite pretty.  However, more interestingly, the good posters of Wikipedia claim (with only secondary sources to show for the claim) that the mountains are named for the Slavic God Perun/Piorun (i.e., “thunder”).  This may well be or it may be that the mountains are simply mountains of thunder.  Either way such an identification is derived from Slavic and that, in turn, raises the question about others similar names.

There is, of course, another name featuring the combination of P–R–N.  And it too is a name of a a mountain range.  And that mountain range too sits in Europe.  We are talking, of course, about the Pyrenees.

Pyrenees?

Well, we’ve already discussed rather peculiar Slavic-like names in Spain – particularly in the country of the Iacetani, rather close to the Pyrenees.  But, really?

Pyrenees

What do we find when we look at the etymology of the Pyrenees?

We find several etymologies:

First, according to the 1st century Roman consul, Silius Italicus (Punica 3.415–441), the Pyrenees were named after Pyrene, the daughter of Bebryx a king of a people who lived somewhere in the mountains’ vicinity.

The unfortunate maiden was “savaged” by a drunken Hercules (while he was on the way to steal Geryon’s cattle), ran away and was torn to shred by wild animals.  Hercules , upon returning, finds out what happened during his prior Mr. Hyde moment and cries out her name.  The surrounding mountains repeat the same forevermore.  

The same story was laughed at by Pliny the Elder (Natural History, 3,1):

“The whole of this coast was thought by Marcus Agrippa to be of Carthaginian origin; but beyond the Guadiana and facing the Atlantic Ocean is the territory of the Bastuli and Turduli. Marcus Varro records that the whole of Spain was penetrated by invasions of Hiberi, Persians, Phoenicians, Celts and Carthaginians; for he says that it was the sport (lusus) of Father Liber, or the frenzy (λύσσα) of those who revelled with him, that gave its name to Lusitania, and that Pan was the governor of the whole of it. The stories related of Hercules, Pyrene or Saturn I regard as absolutely mythical.”

Saturn?  (And Pan?  Of Pannonia?)

Second, the name comes from pyr (πῦρ) “fire” (pyros in Greek – compare pyrkać = make a noise).  This comes from Strabo and Diodorus Siculus.  E.g., in the latter’s Historical Library (Bibliotheca Historica) (Book 5, chapter 35) we have the following passage also mentioning the Phoenicians:

“And since they contain many thick and deep forests, in ancient times, we are told, certain herdsmen left a fire and the whole area of the mountains was entirely consumed; and due to this fire, since it raged continuously day after day, the surface of the earth was also burned and the mountains, because of what had taken place, were called the Pyrenees; furthermore, the surface of the burned land ran with much silver and, since the elementary substance out of which the silver is worked was melted down, there were formed many streams of pure silver. Now the natives were ignorant of the use of the silver, and the Phoenicians,* as they pursued their commercial enterprises and learned of what had taken place, purchased the silver in exchange for other wares of little if any worth. And this was the reason why the Phoenicians, as they transported this silver to Greece and Asia and to all other peoples, acquired great wealth. So far indeed did the merchants go in their greed that, in case their boats were fully laden and there still remained a great amount of silver, they would hammer the lead off the anchors and have the silver perform the service of the lead. And the result was that the Phoenicians, as in the course of many years they prospered greatly, thanks to commerce of this kind, sent forth many colonies, some to Sicily and its neighbouring islands, and others to Libya, Sardinia, and Iberia.”  

* Note that the Carthaginians had Phoenician origins so the two accounts are not necessarily in conflict.

Other theories we do not have cites for:

Third, the name does come from pyr “fire” but by way of a different path.  Apparently, Pyrene gave birth to a snake (see above) which was burned with the fire spreading to the surrounding mountains.  There were Greek merchants who lived in Ampurdan nearby and seeing the inferno named the mountains Pyrenees – mountains of fire.

Fourth, there is the theory that the name is Basque or Iberian – of the form llene es – and means “the mountains of the moon” (how that connects to Pyr is unclear).

Fifth, the name is Basque but from Biri meaning “elevation” or Bierri enact meaning “two countries”.

Sixth, the Celtic theories: the name comes from pyr, a fir tree (Welsh!) or Byrin or Bryn (mountain – similar to above Basque).

Seventh, the word is Phoenician from pura meaning “wood” (same/similar to Hebrew).

What Else?

Some other thoughts:

• First of all it is hardly difficult to connect Pyrene with mountains, fire and thunder or a God of Thunder.  Obviously, thunder (or really lightning) striking forested mountains can cause the trees to go on fire.  It may also be observed that the name Pier-run could also thus refer to “fire-signs/writing”.

• Bebryx’ name may be related to the Bebrices but ones located in the East.   Thus, we know of a tribe of Thracians bearing the same name who established themselves in Bithynia.  These Bebrices were defeated by Hercules (or maybe by the Dioscuri).  Moreover, the Bithinians came to Asia Minor from the area around the river Struma close to today’s Pirin mountains.  If Hercules were to stand for the Greeks this legend may refer to the defeat by the Greeks of the Thracians.  In that context, it is conceivable that the victors (or perhaps only combatants) would humiliate their opponents by taking their deity and making it into a young woman who gets violated by the ueber-Greek Hercules (Heracles).  In time, the motivation for that story may have been forgotten but the legend remained.  One may wonder whether the legend from the East was then transferred to the Western mountains.  If so, the name Pirin would have been ancient and either non-Slavic or Slavs would have been in Thrace earlier than most think (incidentally, the dating of Moses Khorenatsi has also seemingly become politicized – apparently for “non-Slavic” reasons).

• Pirene or Peirene (Πειρήνη), was also a nymph worshipped in Corinth who was the mother (with Poseidon) of Leches and Cenchrias (the two harbours of Corinth are named after those).  If those names seem familiar, you can read more speculations here.

• There is also this interesting mention in Herodotus‘ Histories (Book 2, chapter 33):

“For the Ister [i.e., Danube] flows from the land of the Celts and the city of Pyrene through the very middle of Europe; now the Celts live beyond the Pillars of Heracles, being neighbors of the Cynesii, who are the westernmost of all the peoples inhabiting Europe. The Ister, then, flows clean across Europe and ends its course in the Euxine sea, at Istria, which is inhabited by Milesian colonists.”

• About Diodorus Siculus‘ claim that the Celts are different from Gauls see here.

• As regards other Perunna names (in France/Belgium) see here.

Whether Piorun/Perun/Pierun/Perkunas has something to do with “purging,” “purgatories” or the Germanic Fjörgynn or Indian Parjanya is debatable.

Copyright ©2016 jassa.org All Rights Reserved