Where it all began

You know, Smith is the most common surname in the United States, Candada, and Great Britain.  Its equivalent or translation appears in the top five in almost all European countries.

I’m thinking maybe I should have saved this discussion for Wondering Wednesdays, because I sure wonder why that is, don’t you?  The name’s origin is trade-related.  Blacksmiths, goldsmiths, silversmiths, locksmiths—all were known as smiths.  And, I guess that covers a multitude of trades, but was it really so many more than cartwrights or wainwrights?  Or were smiths just naturally more prolific?  Maybe, being necessary for the creation and maintenance of weapons, they were behind the lines at most battles, so more of them survived?

I don’t know.  But I wonder, don’t you?

I suspect, actually, upon further research, that I may have hit on something with that theory of being behind the lines.  The three major smiths of mythology were all lame.  It seems likely that able-bodied men would be warriors.  The disabled, congenitally or through injury, would be smiths—and survive.

Wayland, the Norse hero smith, was hamstrung by King Niohad, and forced to forge items for him.  In revenge,  he killed the king’s sons, made goblets from their skulls, jewels from their eyes and a brooch from their teeth.  He also raped the king’s daughter.  (Maybe the moral is—don’t cross a smith?)  He is also famous for fashioning the mail shirt that Beowulf wore.

Hephaestus, the Greek god of blacksmiths, was thrown out of heaven because of a shriveled foot (or he injured it when he was thrown out for a completely different reason).  In revenge, he fashioned a throne for Hera that would not let her rise once she sat upon it.  Dionysus had to go get him, get him drunk, and bring him back to Olympus to release her.  (Don’t cross a smith.)

Vulcan, the Roman god of blacksmiths started out as a fire god.  As the Romans conquered the Greeks, they associated many of their gods with Greek equivalents and incorporated the Greek myths.  Consequently, Vulcan got thrown out of heaven, too, (by his own mother because he was so ugly) and broke his leg.  In revenge, he, too, trapped his mother Juno on a specially-fashioned throne.  The Roman version of her release, however, doesn’t involve alcohol.  Jupiter gave him Venus for a wife, and in return, Vulcan released Juno.  (Not only shouldn’t you cross a smith, but you have to buy them off when you do.)

This has all been very interesting to me.  It just goes to show that the study of mythology is rewarding.  I’m thinking this concept—don’t cross a smith—might be a useful one to adopt (always bearing in mind that “First, do no harm” is probably the best over-riding principle).