The quartane ague and the restDoth Pernel take away,And John preserves his worshippersFrom prison every day.
The quartane ague and the restDoth Pernel take away,And John preserves his worshippersFrom prison every day.
The quartane ague and the restDoth Pernel take away,And John preserves his worshippersFrom prison every day.
The quartane ague and the rest
Doth Pernel take away,
And John preserves his worshippers
From prison every day.
In the above stanza we are supplied with the common sobriquet taken from his name. As ‘Pernel’ or ‘Parnel’ it held a high place among the poorer classes. From an ill-repute, however, that attached to it in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it is now all but extinct as a Christian name, and it is only among our surnames that it is to be met with. It is curious how associations of this kind destroy the chances of popularity among names. ‘Peter’ was forced into familiarity. ‘Pernel’ lost caste through its becoming a cant term for women of a certain character. ‘Magdalen’ is another case in point. The Bible narrative describes her briefly as a penitent sinner. Legend, adding to this, portrayed her beauty, her golden tresses, her rich drapery. Art added touches of its own in the shape of dishevelled hair and swelled eyes, but all to make this centre scene of penitence the more marked. This, and the early asylums for penitents, of which she became the forced patroness, prevented her name being used as a Christian name at this time—I have never, at least, found an instance. But as a proof how early it had become a term for what I maycall mental inebriety, a connection which of course it owes to the portrayals alluded to above, I may instance the name of Thomas le Maddelyn, found in the twelfth century (H.R.), and an evident nickname given to one of a sickly sentimental character. Our present ‘Maudlins’ and ‘Maudlings’ may be descended from one so entitled, or locally from some place dedicated to the saint.
Among other female names, ‘Constance’ bid fair to become very popular. A daughter of William the Conqueror, a daughter of Stephen, and a daughter-in-law of Henry II. were all so called. Chaucer in his ‘Man of Lawes Tale’ calls his heroine by this title—
But Hermegild loved Custance as her life,And Custance hath so long sojourned thereIn orisons, with many a bitter tear,Til Jesu hath converted, through his grace,Dame Hermegild.
But Hermegild loved Custance as her life,And Custance hath so long sojourned thereIn orisons, with many a bitter tear,Til Jesu hath converted, through his grace,Dame Hermegild.
But Hermegild loved Custance as her life,And Custance hath so long sojourned thereIn orisons, with many a bitter tear,Til Jesu hath converted, through his grace,Dame Hermegild.
But Hermegild loved Custance as her life,
And Custance hath so long sojourned there
In orisons, with many a bitter tear,
Til Jesu hath converted, through his grace,
Dame Hermegild.
This must have been its favourite form in the common mouth, for we find it recorded in such names as ‘Custance Muscel,’ ‘Custance Clerk,’ ‘Robert fil. Custe,’ or ‘Cus nepta Johannis,’ with tolerable frequency. The diminutive ‘Cussot’ is also to be met with. I need hardly say that in our ‘Custances,’ ‘Custersons,’ ‘Cuss’s,’ and ‘Custs,’ not to say some of our ‘Cousens,’ as corruptions of ‘Custson,’ the remembrance of this once familiar name still survives. Of late years the name proper has again become popular. ‘Beatrice’ is another instance of a name once common sunk into comparative desuetude. The Norman ‘Beton’ was the most favoured pet form. Piers Plowman says (Passus V.):—
Beton the Brewestere bade him good-morrow,
Beton the Brewestere bade him good-morrow,
Beton the Brewestere bade him good-morrow,
Beton the Brewestere bade him good-morrow,
and a little further on,
And bade Bette cut a bough, and beat Betoun therewith.
And bade Bette cut a bough, and beat Betoun therewith.
And bade Bette cut a bough, and beat Betoun therewith.
And bade Bette cut a bough, and beat Betoun therewith.
Thus it is we frequently light upon such entries as ‘John Betyn,’ ‘Betin de Friscobald,’ ‘Robert Betonson,’ ‘John Bettenson,’ or ‘Thomas Betanson.’ These latter of course soon dropped into ‘Beatson’ and ‘Betson,’ which, with ‘Beton’ and ‘Beaton,’ are still common to our directories. ‘Emma,’ too, as a Norman name has left its mark. By a pure accident, however, as Miss Yonge points out, it had got a place previous to the Conquest among the Saxons, through the fact of the daughter of Richard I. of Normandy marrying first Ethelred, surnamed the Unready, and then Canute the Great. Thus, though it has not unfrequently been claimed as of Saxon origin, it is not so in reality. The general spelling is ‘Emme,’ and the pet ‘Emmot’ or ‘Emmet’ is found in such names as ‘Emmota Plummer’ or ‘Emmetta Catton.’ This at once guides us into the source of our ‘Emmots,’ ‘Emmetts,’[53]‘Emmes,’ ‘Emsons,’ ‘Empsons,’ and ‘Emmotsons.’[54]
Almost as equal a favourite as ‘Emma’ was ‘Cecilia.’ This was a name introduced at the Conquest in the person of Cecile, a daughter of William I., and it soon found itself a favourite among high and low as ‘Cicely,’ or still shorter as ‘Cis’ or ‘Sis,’ although the latter seems to have been the more general form. In Piers Plowman, however, is preserved the more correct initial. I have already quoted him when he speaks so familiarly of
Cesse the souteresse.
Cesse the souteresse.
Cesse the souteresse.
Cesse the souteresse.
In all the ballads of the seventeenth century, on the other hand, it is always ‘Sis,’ ‘Siss’ or ‘Sys.’
Long have I lived a bachelor’s life,And had no mind to marry;But now I would fain have a wife,Either Doll, Kate, Sis, or Mary.
Long have I lived a bachelor’s life,And had no mind to marry;But now I would fain have a wife,Either Doll, Kate, Sis, or Mary.
Long have I lived a bachelor’s life,And had no mind to marry;But now I would fain have a wife,Either Doll, Kate, Sis, or Mary.
Long have I lived a bachelor’s life,
And had no mind to marry;
But now I would fain have a wife,
Either Doll, Kate, Sis, or Mary.
Our ‘Sissons,’ ‘Sysons,’ and ‘Sisselsons’[55]are of course but the offspring of this pretty appellative, while one more instance of the popular diminutive may be met with in such a name as ‘John Sissotson’ or ‘Cissota West’ found in the ‘Testamenta Eboracensia,’ or ‘Bella Cesselot’ in the Hundred Rolls.[56]Our ‘Dowses,’ ‘Dossons,’ and ‘Dowsons’ represent the once popular ‘Douce,’ ‘Duce,’ or ‘Dulce,’ morecorrectly ‘Dulcia.’ Hence we find such entries as ‘John filius Dousæ,’ ‘Douce de Moster,’ and ‘John Dowsson.’ Diminutives are found in ‘Richard Dowkin’ (F), and in ‘Dowsett,’ ‘Doucett,’ and ‘Duckett.’ The Norman was the more familiar form, all the more so perhaps because in the baronial kitchen a course of sweets was calleddowcetts. An instance will be found in the Rutland papers, p. 97 (Cam. Soc.). This is but another form of our ‘dulcet.’ That the more literal form was not lost, such names as ‘Dulcia le Draper’ or ‘Dulcia fil. William’ will show, not to mention our still existing patronymic ‘Dulson.’ The later ‘Dulcibella’ underwent the same change and became ‘Dowsabell.’ This also attained the rank of a surname, for beside such entries as ‘Dowzable Mill’ (Z) and ‘Dussabel Caplyn’ (Z) we light upon a ‘Thomas Duszabell’ (M). Thus familiar was ‘Dulcia’ in former days. ‘Dionisia del Lee’ or ‘Dionisius Garston’ are common entries, both masculine and feminine forms being popular. ‘Dennis,’ ‘Denot,’ and ‘Dyot’ were the pet forms. Piers Plowman styles one of his characters ‘Denot.’ Hereditary forms are found in ‘Dennis,’ ‘Dennison,’ ‘Dyott,’ ‘Diotson,’[57]and ‘Dyson.’ I cannot but think that ‘Tenison’ or ‘Tennyson’ is but a corruption of ‘Dennison,’ as also ‘Tyson’ of ‘Dyson.’ That they are patronymics of Antony (Tony) is the only alternative, and this I fear is unsatisfactory. Mabel, although now somewhat out of fashion, was very popular four hundred years ago as ‘Amabilla,’ hence such entries as ‘Amabella laBlund,’ or ‘Amabil fil. Emme.’ The surnames descended from it are sufficiently numerous to testify to this. Besides ‘Mabell’ simple, we have ‘Mabson,’ ‘Mabbs,’ ‘Mabbes,’ ‘Mabbott,’ and perhaps ‘Mapleson.’[58]Catharine, always called ‘Catlin’ in the North, reminding us of the Irish ‘Kathleen,’ is the source of several surnames. Entries like ‘Eleonore Catlynson’ (W. 12) or ‘Thomas Katlynson’ (W. 11) are common, and the shorter ‘Cattlin’ is found in every Yorkshire roll.
There is a certain quaint prettiness about ‘Hilary,’ ‘Lettice,’ and ‘Joyce,’ three acceptable cognomens in mediæval times. The Normans liked their women to be, however modest, none the less lighthearted, gay, and spirited, and in the synonyms of ‘mirth,’ ‘gladness,’ and ‘sportiveness,’ they would delight in affixing on their newly-born children that which they hoped would be in the future but the index of the real character. ‘Hillary’ when not local is therefore but the fuller ‘Hilaria.’ ‘Joyce,’ sometimes the result of the mere nickname, is nothing more than ‘Jocosa,’ and ‘Lettice,’ ‘Letts,’ and ‘Letson’ are sufficiently numerous to preserve the memory of ‘Lætitia.’ Thus, in one of the Coventry Mysteries already alluded to, mention is made of
Col Crane and Davy Dry-dust,Lucy Lyer and Letyce Lytyl-trust,Miles the Miller and Colle Crake-crust.
Col Crane and Davy Dry-dust,Lucy Lyer and Letyce Lytyl-trust,Miles the Miller and Colle Crake-crust.
Col Crane and Davy Dry-dust,Lucy Lyer and Letyce Lytyl-trust,Miles the Miller and Colle Crake-crust.
Col Crane and Davy Dry-dust,
Lucy Lyer and Letyce Lytyl-trust,
Miles the Miller and Colle Crake-crust.
‘Letson’ is met in the fourteenth century as ‘Fitz-Lettice.’ ‘Theophania’ was anything but unpopular, but its length made it unavoidable but that it shouldbe mutilated, or at least put in an abbreviated or nickname form, and thus it is has arisen our ‘Tiffany,’ whence of course the surname of to-day. Thus, in the Coventry Mysteries, it is demanded that
Both Bonting the Brewster and Sybyl Slynge,Megge Mery-wedyr, and Sabyn[59]Sprynge,Tiffany Twynkeler fayle for no thynge.
Both Bonting the Brewster and Sybyl Slynge,Megge Mery-wedyr, and Sabyn[59]Sprynge,Tiffany Twynkeler fayle for no thynge.
Both Bonting the Brewster and Sybyl Slynge,Megge Mery-wedyr, and Sabyn[59]Sprynge,Tiffany Twynkeler fayle for no thynge.
Both Bonting the Brewster and Sybyl Slynge,
Megge Mery-wedyr, and Sabyn[59]Sprynge,
Tiffany Twynkeler fayle for no thynge.
Thierry in his history of the ‘Conquest of England’ quotes an old writer, who has preserved the following lines of a decidedly doggrel character:—
William de CognisbyCame out of BrittanyWith his wife Tiffany,And his maid Manfras,And his dogge Hardigras.
William de CognisbyCame out of BrittanyWith his wife Tiffany,And his maid Manfras,And his dogge Hardigras.
William de CognisbyCame out of BrittanyWith his wife Tiffany,And his maid Manfras,And his dogge Hardigras.
William de Cognisby
Came out of Brittany
With his wife Tiffany,
And his maid Manfras,
And his dogge Hardigras.
We must not forget to mention ‘Eleanor,’ or ‘Alianora,’ as it is more frequently registered, a name of suffering royalty, and therefore to a portion of the English people, at least, a popular name. Its forms are too many for enumeration, but ‘Alianor,’ ‘Annora,’ ‘Annot,’ ‘Alinot,’ ‘Leonora,’ ‘Eleanor,’ ‘Elinor,’ ‘Ellen,’ ‘Lina,’ ‘Linot,’ and ‘Nel’ were the most common. All of these were either surnames themselves, or became the roots of surnames. Thus we find among other entries such registrations as ‘Alicia Alianor,’ ‘Alianor Busche,’ ‘Annora Widow,’ ‘Annora de Aencurt,’ ‘Anota Canun,’ ‘John Annotson,’ ‘William Annotyson,’ ‘Hugh fil. Elyenore,’ ‘William Alinot,’ ‘Alnot Red,’ ‘Lyna le Archer,’ ‘Linota ate Field,’ or‘Linota Vidua.’ This list will suffice to prove the place occupied by ‘Eleanor.’ I have not mentioned such entries as ‘John fil. Nel’ or ‘Elisha Annyson,’ or ‘Richard Anyson,’ for though in these particular instances we see the origin of some of our ‘Ansons’ and ‘Nelsons,’ both are more generally referable to a different source. ‘Neal’ or ‘Neile’ was very common in this day, and ‘Neilson’ would easily be corrupted into ‘Nelson.’
‘Julian,’ the abbreviated form of ‘Juliana,’ as a Norman-introduced name became very popular, and its after history was a very curious one. Such appellations as ‘Gillian Cook,’ or ‘Gilian of the Mill,’ found in the Hundred Rolls, or that of the well-known ‘Dame Julyan Berners,’ whose work on household management I shall have occasion to quote by-and-by, only represent in fuller forms the ‘Gill’ or ‘Jill’ who is so renowned in our nursery literature as having met with such a dire disaster in the dutiful endeavour ‘to fetch a pail of water’ from the hill-side. I have already mentioned ‘Cocke Lorell’s Bote,’ where allusion is made to
Jelyan Joly at signe of the Bokeler.
Jelyan Joly at signe of the Bokeler.
Jelyan Joly at signe of the Bokeler.
Jelyan Joly at signe of the Bokeler.
The shorter and curter form is given us in Heywood’s Epigrams, where the following marital dialogue occurs:—
I am care-full to see thee carelesse, Jylle:I am wofull to see thee wytlesse, Wyll:I am anguisht to see thee an ape, Jyll:I am angry to see thee an asse, Wyll:I am dumpyshe to see thee play the drabbe, Jyll:I am knappyshe to see thee plaie the knave, Wyll.
I am care-full to see thee carelesse, Jylle:I am wofull to see thee wytlesse, Wyll:I am anguisht to see thee an ape, Jyll:I am angry to see thee an asse, Wyll:I am dumpyshe to see thee play the drabbe, Jyll:I am knappyshe to see thee plaie the knave, Wyll.
I am care-full to see thee carelesse, Jylle:I am wofull to see thee wytlesse, Wyll:I am anguisht to see thee an ape, Jyll:I am angry to see thee an asse, Wyll:I am dumpyshe to see thee play the drabbe, Jyll:I am knappyshe to see thee plaie the knave, Wyll.
I am care-full to see thee carelesse, Jylle:
I am wofull to see thee wytlesse, Wyll:
I am anguisht to see thee an ape, Jyll:
I am angry to see thee an asse, Wyll:
I am dumpyshe to see thee play the drabbe, Jyll:
I am knappyshe to see thee plaie the knave, Wyll.
But ‘Gill’ at some time or other got into evil odour,and this brought the name into all but absolute disuse. As a term for a wanton flirt or inconstant girl, it was familiarly used till the eighteenth century. It would seem as if the poet I have just quoted were referring to this characteristic when he writes:—
All shall be well, Jacke shall have Gill;Nay, nay, Gill is wedded to Wyll;[60]
All shall be well, Jacke shall have Gill;Nay, nay, Gill is wedded to Wyll;[60]
All shall be well, Jacke shall have Gill;Nay, nay, Gill is wedded to Wyll;[60]
All shall be well, Jacke shall have Gill;
Nay, nay, Gill is wedded to Wyll;[60]
or where in another place he says:—
How may I have thee, Gill, when I wish for thee?Wish not for me Jack, but when thou mayest have me.[61]
How may I have thee, Gill, when I wish for thee?Wish not for me Jack, but when thou mayest have me.[61]
How may I have thee, Gill, when I wish for thee?Wish not for me Jack, but when thou mayest have me.[61]
How may I have thee, Gill, when I wish for thee?
Wish not for me Jack, but when thou mayest have me.[61]
The diminutive ‘Gilot’ or ‘Juliet’ is used in the same way. In an old metrical sermon it is said—
Robin will GilotLeden to the nale,And sitten there togedres,And tellen their tale.
Robin will GilotLeden to the nale,And sitten there togedres,And tellen their tale.
Robin will GilotLeden to the nale,And sitten there togedres,And tellen their tale.
Robin will Gilot
Leden to the nale,
And sitten there togedres,
And tellen their tale.
This at once reminds us of the origin of our ‘jilt,’ which is nothing more than a relic of the name for inconstancy the sobriquet had obtained. In our ‘Gills,’ ‘Gilsons,’ and many of our ‘Gillots,’ a further remembrance is likely to remain for all time.[62]Such namesas these, however, offer no kind of comparison with that of ‘Margaret.’ This is the only rival that ‘Gillian’ had to fear, and had the misfortunes of Margaret of Anjou occurred two, or even one century earlier, it would easily have taken precedence, so far as our surnames are concerned. Apart from its being found in several royal lines, it had the advantage of undoubted prettiness both in sound and sense. Every one, too, knew its meaning, for ‘margarite’ and ‘pearl’ then, and until the seventeenth century even, were interchangeable terms. Every early writer so uses it. ‘Casting pearls before swine’ is with Wickliffe ‘margaritis.’[63]The pet names too were pretty, important in a day when the full name was rarely if ever used.[64]The Norman-French ‘Margot’ seems to have been quite as familiar as ‘Marjorie.’ Thus the homely ‘magpie’ was at first styled the ‘maggoty’or ‘magot-pie.’ Many will remember that Macbeth so uses it—
Blood will have blood:Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak,Augurs and understood relations haveBy magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forthThe secretest man of blood.—ii. 7.
Blood will have blood:Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak,Augurs and understood relations haveBy magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forthThe secretest man of blood.—ii. 7.
Blood will have blood:Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak,Augurs and understood relations haveBy magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forthThe secretest man of blood.—ii. 7.
Blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak,
Augurs and understood relations have
By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
The secretest man of blood.—ii. 7.
‘Madge-owlet,’ too, from its occasional use by writers of this later period, seems to prove that the still more homely owl of the barn owed an appellation to Dame Marjorie. Her issue, as we should expect, is large. We have ‘Maggs,’ ‘Maggots,’ and ‘Magotson;’ ‘Margots,’ ‘Margetts,’ and ‘Margetson;’ ‘Margison,’ ‘Margerison,’ ‘Meggs,’ and ‘Megson.’[65]It will be surprising to many that we cannot place ‘Mary’ in the first place among female names, as it is now among those of either sex, but such was far from the case. Edward I.’s daughter ‘Marie’ seems to have been the first instance we possess of its use among the higher families of the realm; and doubtless its presence at this time must be referred, as in so many other cases we have mentioned, to the Crusades. Mariolatry, we must remember, was not yet an article of Romish belief. Indeed, the name is still of the rarest for generations after this. Maid Marion, the mistress of Robin Hood, seems to have made that diminutive popular, and either from the acted plays in which she frequently afterwards figured, or the little ornamental image of the Virgin worn by women, is come ourmarionette. The one only form in which it can be said to occur in our English recordsis that of ‘Mariot,’ such names as ‘Mariot Goscelyn,’ or ‘Mariota Giffard,’ or ‘Mariota Gosebeck,’ being found as a very occasional registry. Thus our ‘Mariotts’ and ‘Maryatts’ are explained. With regard to another batch of names said to have sprung from this, I find a difficulty sets in. We have the clear statement of the author of the ‘Promptorium Parvulorum’ that ‘Malkyne’ in his day was the sobriquet of Matilda, that is, ‘Mawdkin.’ On the other hand, I find Halliwell has a single quotation from a manuscript in which Maid Marion is styled Malkyn also.[66]All modern writers, saving Mr. Lower, who has come to no decision at all, have comfortably put it down to this latter. I have no hesitation whatever myself in deciding differently, or at least in qualifying their conclusion.There can be scarcely any doubt, I think, that Malkin was originally the pet name of Matilda; then, as that favourite name gradually sunk in estimation, and Mary proportionately advanced, but this much later on, it was transferred. Thus, if I am correct, our ‘Makinsons’ and ‘Makins,’[67]our ‘Meakins’ and ‘Meekins,’ and our ‘Mawsons’[68]will be sprung from Maud, rather than Mary. In confirmation of this, I may quote ‘Malkin,’ the early cant term for a ‘slut,’ a word as old as Chaucer himself, and one that Mary could not have possibly acquired in his day, as barely familiar. ‘Mawdkin’ or ‘Malkin,’ on the other hand, would be the ordinary term for every household drudge. It is only those who have carefully studied early registers who can realize the difference of position ‘Matilda’ and ‘Mary’ relatively occupy at such a period as this. There were six ‘Matildas’ of royal lineage between William I. and Henry II. alone. It greets one at every turn; the present popularity of the latter is entirely the growth of a later and more superstitious age.[69]
Speaking of Mary, we must not forget Elizabeth, known, generations ere Queen Bess made itso popular, as Isabella. It was in this form it came into England with that princess of Angoulême who married John Lackland. But it was not a favourite; pretty as it was, its connexion with our most despicable monarch spoiled all chance of popularity, and while on the Continent it gained friends on every hand, it was only with the higher nobility of our own land it got any place worth speaking of. Still it has left its mark. As Elizabeth[70]at a later stage became ‘Lib’ and ‘Libby,’ so Isabel was fondled into ‘Ib’ and ‘Ibby.’ Thus we come across such entries as ‘Henry Ebison,’ ‘Thomas Ibson,’ or ‘John Ibson.’ But a foreign name without the foreign desinence would be impossible. With the introduction of Isabel came in the diminutive ‘Ibbot’ or ‘Ibbet.’ Registrations like ‘Ibbota fil. Adam,’ ‘Ibote Babyngton,’ or ‘Ebote Gylle,’ and as surnames ‘Walter Ibbot,’ ‘Robert fil. Ibote,’ ‘Francis Ibbitson,’ or ‘Alice Ebotson’ are of common occurrence.[71]Another form of the same diminutive was ‘Isot,’ hence ‘Isotte Symes,’ ‘Izott Barn,’ or ‘EzotaHall.’[72]But even with this we have not completed our list. One more pet form, and one still common amongst us, that of ‘Bell,’ left its mark in ‘Bellot,’ ‘Bellet,’ and ‘Bellson,’ all of which are still to be found in our directories.
The preceding pages will be sufficient proof that our metronymics are a considerable class. Many have not hesitated to affirm them to be wholly of illegitimate descent. We cannot doubt that in some instances this is the case. Nevertheless, we must not be led astray. ‘Polson’ is Paul’s son, ‘Nelson’ is Neil’s son, Neil or Nigel being at one time a familiar name with us. And even when the name is unquestionably feminine, as in Mollison, Margerison, Marriot, Emmett, or Annotson, illegitimacy is anything but established as a matter of fact. Adoption of children by women, posthumous birth, and other peculiar circumstances would often cause a boy or girl to be known in the community by a metronymic. Especially, too, would a child be thus styled in a family where the mother was notoriously, and in an emphatic sense, the better half, in a family where the husband was content to sit in the chimney nook, and let the bustling Margery, or Siss, or Emmot take, whether in or out of doors, the lead in all that concerned the domestic relationship. Thus, I doubt not, a large mass of them have arisen.
We have incidentally referred to several Bible names, such as John, Mary, or Elizabeth. We shall find a certain characteristic appertaining to these. Itis only those personages who prominently figured in the Scripture narrative who made any mark upon our nomenclature. The others, I doubt not, were unknown. It is even uncertain whether the clergy themselves had any but the faintest knowledge of the Bible. Indeed, such names even as were in use bear no testimony to the fact that they were given as the direct result of familiarity with the sacred pages. If from the New Testament, they were names that figured in the calendar as saints and martyrs, names to whom shrines and chapels had been dedicated. If from the Old, they were just those like ‘Adam,’ or ‘Isaac,’ or ‘Joseph,’ or ‘Samson,’ or ‘Daniel,’ or ‘Absolom,’ whose stories, told in the monkish performances or miracle-plays, were thus forced into the acquaintance of the popular mind. In a word, there is not a trace of anything beyond a mere superficial knowledge of the very outlines of the sacred narrative. Thus was it with ‘Adam,’ already mentioned. That he and Eve should be remembered at the font was inevitable. The Hundred Rolls give us an ‘Adam fil. Eve.’ Mr. Lower has been tempted to refer our ‘Atkins’ and ‘Atkinsons’ to Arthur, but there can be little doubt, I imagine, that these are but sharper forms of ‘Adkins’ and ‘Adkinson.’ The record alluded to above registers the same person twice as ‘Adam le Fullere’ and ‘Adekin le Fuller.’ With them therefore we must ally our ‘Addisons,’ ‘Adcocks,’[73]and ‘Adamsons.’ Eve left us ‘Eveson’ as a metronymic, and ‘Evetts’ and ‘Evitts,’ as the diminutives, are firmly set amongst us.[74]‘Abel’was equally popular. The Norman desinence is found in such entries as ‘Abalotta de la Forde,’ or Richard Abelot, whose descendants now figure as ‘Ablett’ and ‘Ablott.’ As will be seen, these may be feminine in origin. The reverence of the despised Jew for Abraham prevented this from becoming acceptable to Christians, but Isaac’s sacrifice was too popular a story not to leave an impression. It would be frequently represented by the monks. I have already quoted Langland where he speaks of
Hikke the hackney-manAnd Hugh the nedlere—
Hikke the hackney-manAnd Hugh the nedlere—
Hikke the hackney-manAnd Hugh the nedlere—
Hikke the hackney-man
And Hugh the nedlere—
an abbreviation now more generally known and spelt as ‘Ike.’ Gower also has it—
Wattevocat, cuiThomavenit, nequeSymmeretardat,Bat-queGibbesimul,Hykkevenire jubent.
Wattevocat, cuiThomavenit, nequeSymmeretardat,Bat-queGibbesimul,Hykkevenire jubent.
Wattevocat, cuiThomavenit, nequeSymmeretardat,Bat-queGibbesimul,Hykkevenire jubent.
Wattevocat, cuiThomavenit, nequeSymmeretardat,
Bat-queGibbesimul,Hykkevenire jubent.
From him then have arisen our ‘Isaacs’ and ‘Isaacsons,’ our ‘Hicks’ and ‘Hicksons,’ our ‘Higgs’ and ‘Higsons,’ and with the Norman-French diminutives appended, our ‘Higgins,’ ‘Higginsons,’ ‘Higgotts,’[75]and ‘Higgetts.’ ‘Sarah,’ in the dress of ‘Sarra,’ had a fair number of admirers. ‘Sarra le Commongere,’ ‘William fil. Sarra,’ ‘Nicholas fil. Sarre,’ is the usual entry. The origin of our ‘Sarsons’ would thus be certain, were itnot that this name, as will be shown elsewhere, has got confused with ‘Saracen.’ Moses also failed to be accepted among Christians, nor was Aaron much more fortunate, such registration as ‘Aaron le Blund’ or ‘Aron Judde’ being rare. ‘Samson’ or ‘Sampson,’ as it is more generally recorded, was of course popular enough, and many of our ‘Sampsons’ are rather the simple ‘Samson’ than the patronymic of ‘Samuel.’ ‘Samms,’ ‘Samuels’ and ‘Samuelson’ are generally of Jewish descent. ‘David,’ with its ‘Davies,’ its ‘Davidsons,’ its ‘Dawes’ and ‘Dawsons,’ its ‘Dawkes’ and ‘Dawkins,’ or ‘Dawkinsons,’ its ‘Dayes,’ ‘Daysons,’ and ‘Dakins’ (when not ‘Deakin’), would be equally sure of remembrance; though doubtless, as the patron saint of the Principality, and as a favourite among Scottish kings, it owes much to these outer chances. Here, too, we are reminded of Piers Plowman, with his—
Dawe the dykereAnd a dozen othere.
Dawe the dykereAnd a dozen othere.
Dawe the dykereAnd a dozen othere.
Dawe the dykere
And a dozen othere.
This nickname seems to have had a long reign in the popular mouth, for we find, towards the close of the sixteenth century, Haywood writing the following epigram:—
To a justice a juggler did complaine,Of one that dispraised his legerdemain.What’s thy name? sayd the Justice: Dawson, sayd hee:Is thy father alive? Nay, dead, sir, pardee:Then thou shalt no more be Dau’s son, a clere case,Thou art Daw thyself now in thy father’s place.[76]
To a justice a juggler did complaine,Of one that dispraised his legerdemain.What’s thy name? sayd the Justice: Dawson, sayd hee:Is thy father alive? Nay, dead, sir, pardee:Then thou shalt no more be Dau’s son, a clere case,Thou art Daw thyself now in thy father’s place.[76]
To a justice a juggler did complaine,Of one that dispraised his legerdemain.What’s thy name? sayd the Justice: Dawson, sayd hee:Is thy father alive? Nay, dead, sir, pardee:Then thou shalt no more be Dau’s son, a clere case,Thou art Daw thyself now in thy father’s place.[76]
To a justice a juggler did complaine,
Of one that dispraised his legerdemain.
What’s thy name? sayd the Justice: Dawson, sayd hee:
Is thy father alive? Nay, dead, sir, pardee:
Then thou shalt no more be Dau’s son, a clere case,
Thou art Daw thyself now in thy father’s place.[76]
Passing by ‘Absolom,’ ‘Solomon,’ or ‘Salamon,’ ‘Job’ and ‘Jobson,’ the story of Daniel would of course be common. This has bequeathed us itself inpropria persona,and ‘Dancock,’ ‘Dankin,’ ‘Danett,’ and ‘Dannett.’ With regard to ‘Dans,’ ‘Dance,’ ‘Danse,’ and ‘Danson,’ there is a little difficulty. We have to remember that ‘Dan,’ like ‘Dame,’[77]figured prominently in early days as a simple title of respect. They were but the ‘Don’ and ‘Donna’ which, in one form or another, still exist in Italy, France, and Spain. ‘Dame,’ from domina, meant ‘mistress.’ ‘Don,’ from dominus, meant ‘master.’ To rank and age the two terms were equally applied. A ‘dame’s school’ still preserves this connexion of ideas. ‘As with the mistress so with the maid,’ is in early Bibles ‘As with the dame so with the maid.’ Thus there seems to be little doubt that our ‘Dames’ and ‘Damsons’ are so sprung. Why then should not ‘Dans’ and ‘Danse’ and ‘Danson’ be the masculine form? Chaucer, in his Canterbury Tales, represents the host as asking the Monk—
But, by my trothe, I cannot tell your name:Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John,Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?
But, by my trothe, I cannot tell your name:Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John,Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?
But, by my trothe, I cannot tell your name:Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John,Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?
But, by my trothe, I cannot tell your name:
Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John,
Or Dan Thomas, or elles Dan Albon?
Thus he speaks also of ‘Dan Constantine,’ and jestingly of the ass as ‘Dan Burnell.’ Thus, Lord Surrey in one of his poems speaks of ‘Dan Homer;’ Spenser of ‘Dan Geoffrey;’ Thomson of ‘Dan Abraham.’ The best way will be, as in many another case,to divide the honours between the two; and leaving it thus undecided, I pass on.
Nor is the New Testament without its instances. Let us look at the Apostles first. We have already spoken at some length about ‘John,’ but we purposely kept for the present opportunity the explanation of its popularity in England. There can be little doubt that it owes much to its religious aspect. It was the name not merely of the beloved disciple, but of the Baptist. New and close associations with the latter were just coming into being. We must remember this was the time of the Crusades. It was the custom of all pilgrims who visited the Holy Land to bring back a bottle of water from the Jordan for baptismal purposes. A leathern bottle was an inseparable adjunct to the palmer’s dress. We all remember Walter Scott’s description—
His sandals were with travel tore,Staff, budget,bottle, scrip he wore:The faded palm-branch in his handShowed pilgrim from the Holy Land.
His sandals were with travel tore,Staff, budget,bottle, scrip he wore:The faded palm-branch in his handShowed pilgrim from the Holy Land.
His sandals were with travel tore,Staff, budget,bottle, scrip he wore:The faded palm-branch in his handShowed pilgrim from the Holy Land.
His sandals were with travel tore,
Staff, budget,bottle, scrip he wore:
The faded palm-branch in his hand
Showed pilgrim from the Holy Land.
Early scenes with regard to the river in which the Baptist specially figured would thus be vividly brought to their notice, and in the ceremony of baptism at home nothing could be more natural than to give to the infant the name of the baptizer of the Holy Child Jesus. This is strongly confirmed by the fact of the name taking precedence at this very period. It was thus ‘Jordan’ itself as a surname has arisen. I need not remind students of early records how common is ‘Jordan’ as a Christian name, such cognomens as ‘Jordan de Abingdon’ or ‘Jordan le Clerc’ being of the most familiar occurrence. The baptismal soon becamesurnominal, and now ‘Jordan,’[78]‘Jordanson,’ ‘Jordson,’ ‘Jurdan,’ ‘Judd,’ and ‘Judson’[79]are with us to remind us of this peculiar and interesting epoch.[80]We have a remarkable confirmation of what I am asserting in the fact of the Baptist’s other name of ‘Elias’ springing into a sudden notoriety at this time. If ‘John’ became thus so popular, it was inevitable ‘Elias’ should be the same; and so it was. Indeed, there was a time when it bid fair to be one of the most familiar sobriquets in England. For it was not merely the second Elias and the Jordan that had this effect. As the armies lay before Acre, remembrance of Elijah and the prophet of Carmel must have oft recurred to their minds. Out of many forms to be found in every early roll, those of ‘Ellis,’ ‘Elys,’ ‘Elice,’ ‘Ellice,’ ‘Elyas,’ ‘Helyas,’ and the diminutive ‘Eliot’ or ‘Elliot,’ seem to have been the most familiar. Numberless are the surnames sprung from it. It is thus we get our ‘Ellises’ and ‘Ellices,’ our ‘Ellsons’ and ‘Ellisons,’ our ‘Elkins’ and ‘Elkinsons,’ our‘Elcocks’ and ‘Ellcocks,’ and our ‘Ellicots,’[81]‘Elliots,’ and ‘Elliotsons.’ In the north ‘Alis’ seems to have gained the supremacy. Thus it is we have our many ‘Allisons’ or ‘Alisons,’[82]‘Allkins’ or ‘Alkins,’ ‘Allcocks’ or ‘Alcocks,’ and ‘Allots.’ ‘Alecot,’ as a synonym with ‘Elicot,’ I do not find to be at present existing, but as a Christian name it occurs at the same period with the above.[83]‘Fitzellis,’ as the more aristocratic Norman form, is notyet, I believe, extinct. Thus the prophet at Carmel and the forerunner at the Jordan have made their mark upon our English nomenclature.
Peter claims our attention next. When we consider how important has been the position claimed for him it is remarkable that in an age when, so far as England was concerned, this respect was more fully exacted than any other, his name should be so rarely found, rarely when we reflect what an influence the ecclesiastics of the day themselves must have had in the choice of the baptismal name, and what an interest they had in making it popular. It is to them, doubtless, we must refer the fact of its having made any mark at all, for ‘Peter’ was odious to English ears. It reminded them of a tax which was the one of all least liked, as they saw none of its fruits. It is to country records we must look for the ‘Peters’ of the time. The freer towns would none of it. Among the rude peasantry ecclesiastic control was well-nigh absolute; in the boroughs it was proportionately less. I have already quoted an instance of 133 London names where Peter is discovered but once to 35 Johns. In the Norwich Guild already mentioned, the proportion, or rather disproportion, is the same. To 128 Johns, 47 Williams, 41 Thomases, 33 Roberts, and 21 Richards, there are but 4 Peters. On the other hand, in Wiltshire, out of 588 names, we find 16 Peters to 92 Johns. This wide difference of ratio I find to be fully borne out in all other groups of early names. Thanks then to the ecclesiastics it did exist, and its relics at any rate are numerous enough. It is hence we get the shorter ‘Parr,’ ‘Piers,’ ‘Pierce,’ ‘Pears,’ ‘Pearse,’ and ‘Peers.’ It is hence with the patronymicadded we get our ‘Parsons,’ ‘Pearsons,’ ‘Piersons,’ and the fuller ‘Peterson.’ It is hence once more with the pet desinences attached we get our ‘Perrins’ and ‘Perrens,’ our ‘Perrets,’ ‘Perretts,’ ‘Parrots,’ and ‘Parrets,’[84]our ‘Peterkins,’ ‘Perkins,’ ‘Parkins,’ and ‘Parkinsons,’ besides our ‘Perks’ and ‘Perkes’ innumerable.
‘Simon,’ or ‘Simeon,’ is represented by at least sixteen different personages in the Scriptures, so we may well expect to find that it has also impressed itself upon our own registers. The usual forms of the name in mediæval rolls is ‘Sim,’ ‘Simkin,’ and ‘Simonet.’ Thus we find such entries as ‘Simon fil. Sim,’ ‘Simkin Cock,’ ‘Symkyn Edward,’ ‘Simonettus Mercator,’ or ‘Symonet Vaillain.’ The French diminutive does not seem to have been so popular as that which the Flemings made so common, for I find no ‘Simnets’ in our directories, while a whole column has to be set aside for our ‘Simpkins’ and ‘Simpkinsons.’ ‘Simcock’ must have existed also, as our ‘Simcocks’ and ‘Simcoxes’ can testify. Other forms are found in ‘Sims,’ ‘Simms,’ ‘Simpson,’ ‘Simmons,’ ‘Simonds,’ ‘Symonds,’ ‘Simmonds,’ and ‘Symondsons.’ This latter is met with in the Rolls of Parliament in the guise of ‘Symondesson.’ ‘Philip,’ as another of the Apostles of Jesus, was also popular.As with ‘Simon,’ most of the nursery forms are still found as the chief components of its surnames. Skelton, the poet-laureate—in lieu of a better—of Henry VIII., reminds us of its chief contraction, ‘Philp,’ or ‘Phip,’ in his lines on a dead sparrow, named Philip:—
Many times and oft,Upon my finger aloft,I played with him, tittle-tattle,And fed him with my spattle,With his bill between my lips.It was my pretty Phips.
Many times and oft,Upon my finger aloft,I played with him, tittle-tattle,And fed him with my spattle,With his bill between my lips.It was my pretty Phips.
Many times and oft,Upon my finger aloft,I played with him, tittle-tattle,And fed him with my spattle,With his bill between my lips.It was my pretty Phips.
Many times and oft,
Upon my finger aloft,
I played with him, tittle-tattle,
And fed him with my spattle,
With his bill between my lips.
It was my pretty Phips.
Thus we derive our ‘Phelps,’ ‘Philps,’ ‘Phipps,’ and ‘Phipson.’ Adding to these our ‘Philips,’ ‘Philipsons,’ ‘Philcoxes,’ ‘Philpotts,’ and ‘Phillots,’ we see that we are not likely soon to be quit of Philip. He is now, however, out of fashion as a Christian name. ‘Philpot,’[85]I need scarcely say, was very popular as the representative of the Norman-French ‘Philipot,’ found in such entries as ‘Thomas Phylypotte,’ or ‘John Philipot;’ but endeavours to deduce his origin as well in spelling as in sound from the characteristics displayed by the renowned Toby Phillpot are not wanting, for I see him figuring in the ‘London Directory’ as ‘Fillpot.’ Archbishop Trench quotes from one of Careless’s letters to Philpot the following passage, which serves to show that three hundred years ago at least the name had been played upon in similar fashion: ‘Oh, good Master Philpot (he says), which art a principalpotindeed,filledwith much precious liquor—oh, potmost happy! of the High Potter ordained to honour.’ Some years ago, when a Philpott was appointed to the episcopal chair of Worcester, Dr. Philpotts being yet at Exeter, the following lines got abroad:—
‘A good appointment?’ ‘No, it’s not,’Said old beer-drinking Peter Watts;‘At Worcester one but hears “Phil-pott;”At generous Exeter, “Phil-potts.”’
‘A good appointment?’ ‘No, it’s not,’Said old beer-drinking Peter Watts;‘At Worcester one but hears “Phil-pott;”At generous Exeter, “Phil-potts.”’
‘A good appointment?’ ‘No, it’s not,’Said old beer-drinking Peter Watts;‘At Worcester one but hears “Phil-pott;”At generous Exeter, “Phil-potts.”’
‘A good appointment?’ ‘No, it’s not,’
Said old beer-drinking Peter Watts;
‘At Worcester one but hears “Phil-pott;”
At generous Exeter, “Phil-potts.”’
‘Fillpot’ as well as ‘Fillip’ are both found in mediæval registers in the cases of ‘Roger Fylpot’ and ‘Walter Felip.’ An old song, quoted in ‘Political Poems’ (i. 60), says of the defeated soldiers at Halidon Hill:—
On Filip Valas fast cri they,There for to dwell, and him avaunce.
On Filip Valas fast cri they,There for to dwell, and him avaunce.
On Filip Valas fast cri they,There for to dwell, and him avaunce.
On Filip Valas fast cri they,
There for to dwell, and him avaunce.
The ‘Fillpots’ of our present directories may therefore have thus spelt their names for four or five hundred years. Anyhow they have precedent for the form.
‘Matthew the Publican’ seems to have been a favourite alike in England and France. ‘Matt’ was the homely appellative, and thus besides ‘Mathews’ and ‘Mathewson,’ we meet with ‘Matts,’ ‘Matson,’ ‘Mattison,’ and ‘Mattinson.’ Our ‘Mayhews’ represent the foreign dress, and can refer their origin to such personages as ‘Adam fil. Maheu,’ or ‘Mayeu de Basingbourne.’ ‘Bartholomew,’ for what reason I can scarcely say, was a prime favourite with our forefathers, and has left innumerable proofs of the same. ‘Batt’ or ‘Bett’ seems to have been the favourite curtailment. The author of ‘Piers Plowman’ speaks of ‘Bette the Bocher’ (Butcher), ‘Bette the Bedel,’ and makes Reason bid
Bette kutteA bough outher tweye,And bete Beton therewith.
Bette kutteA bough outher tweye,And bete Beton therewith.
Bette kutteA bough outher tweye,And bete Beton therewith.
Bette kutte
A bough outher tweye,
And bete Beton therewith.
‘Batty,’ ‘Bates,’ ‘Batson,’ ‘Batcock,’ ‘Badcock,’ ‘Batkins,’ ‘Badkins,’ ‘Betson,’ ‘Bedson,’ and ‘Betty’ are relics of this. ‘Bartle,’ and the Norman-French ‘Bartelot,’ found in such entries as ‘Bartel Frobisher,’ ‘John fil. Bertol,’ ‘Bartelot Govi,’ or ‘Edward Barttlette,’ at once bespeak the origin of our ‘Bartles’ and ‘Bartletts.’[86]Nor was this all. Another favourite sobriquet for this same name was ‘Toly’ or ‘Tholy,’ hence such registrations as ‘Tholy Oldcorn,’ or ‘Robert Toly,’ or ‘William fil. Tholy.’ Our ‘Tolleys,’ ‘Tollys’ and ‘Tolsons’[87]are thus explained. None of these could have been the offspring of any old ‘Ladye Betty,’ as Mr. Lower seems to imagine, since that name, as I have shown, did not exist in England at this time, nor in fact can it be said to have been known till rendered fashionable by Elizabeth Woodville, the bride of Edward IV. What an influence a single individual may wield over our personal nomenclature may be thus seen, when we remember the enormous preponderance of this latter name during the two centuries that followed the reign of the imperious but ‘good Queen Bess,’ and the glorious scattering of the Spanish Armada. This, too, escaping the withering influences of the Puritan era, continued through all, and now holds the fourth place in English esteem.
In the poem I have just quoted, Reason
Called Caton his knaveCurteis of speche,And also Tomme Trewe-tonge.
Called Caton his knaveCurteis of speche,And also Tomme Trewe-tonge.
Called Caton his knaveCurteis of speche,And also Tomme Trewe-tonge.
Called Caton his knave
Curteis of speche,
And also Tomme Trewe-tonge.
Thus we see that ‘Tom,’ as the popular form of ‘Thomas,’ has been in vogue for many centuries. ‘Thomas,’ like some of the above names, received an increased impulse from the Crusades. But another circumstance also befriended it. In its numerous progeny may be read again the story of the feud that arose between the haughty Archbishop and Henry II., a feud that terminated so fatally for the former, and made the spot where he fell hallowed for centuries by the pilgrimages of shrine-worshippers. Piers, in Langland’s poem, says,