Chapter VI · ‘Nicknames.’ (continued 2)

A col fox full of sleigh iniquity.

‘Clenehog’ (‘William Clenehog,’ A.) or ‘Clenegrise’ (‘Roger Clenegrise,’ A.) would seem to be a sarcasm upon the dirty habits of its early owner, while ‘Piggesflesh’ (‘Reyner Piggesflesh,’ M.) or Hoggesflesh’ (‘Margery Hoggesflesh,’ Z.)^[603] is as obviously intended to be a reflection upon the general appearance. ‘Herring’ (‘Robert Heryng,’ A.), already mentioned, is not objectionable, but ‘Goodherring’ 500(‘Adam Godharing,’ A.) and ‘Redherring’^[604] (‘William Redhering,’ M.) are. ‘Fish’ one would not for a moment find fault with, but few young ladies, I imagine, would be found to face at the matrimonial altar a ‘John Pourfishe’ (M.). Objection, too, if not by the fair inamorata, yet by her parents, would be raised, I suspect, to an alliance with a ‘Roger Feldog,’ or ‘Thomas Catsnose,’ or ‘William Cocksbrain,’ or ‘Robert Calvesmaw,’ or ‘Peter Buckeskyn,’ or ‘Arnulph Dogmaw,’ or ‘Henry Crowfoot,’ or ‘Matthew Goosebeak,’ or ‘John Bullhead.’^[605] Talking of the last, however, it is interesting to notice how much the bull has entered into compounds of this kind. Thus we light upon such names as ‘Walter Oyl-de-beof’ or ‘William Oldbeof,’ that is, bull-eyed; ‘Ralph Front-de-bœuf,’ that is, bull-faced; ‘John Cors-de-bœuf’ or ‘Thomas Cordebeofe,’ that is, bull-bodied; ‘John Queer-de-bœf,’ that is, bull-hearted, or ‘Amice le Wildebœf’ or ‘Nicholas Waldebeof,’ seemingly like ‘Wild-bore,’ referring to some wild untutored characteristics of the bearer. In all these the genius of the age is quite apparent, and probably not one was looked upon as otherwise than complimentary. ‘William Scorchebouef’ was evidently some unlucky young kitchener who had mismanaged his duties as spit-turner, but it betrays the process by which the term ‘bœuf’ has come into its present position of verbal usefulness. In this light ‘Cors-de-bœuf’ also is further interesting as reminding us that there was a time when ‘corpse’ 501did not necessarily imply the inanimate frame. ‘Behold, they were all dead corpses,’ found in our Authorized Version, was no tautology, it would appear, even in the seventeenth century. Thus do changes creep over the lives of words as well as men.

We might fill a book with these descriptive compounds—surnames so whimsical, so absurdly humorous that they manifestly could not live. For instance, we meet in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries with such a sobriquet as ‘William Hondeshakere,’ which no doubt spoke for the hearty goodwill of its easy possessor. ‘Geoffry Chese-and-brede’ seems to refer to the peculiar taste of its owner, while ‘Arnold Scutelmouth’ would be a sarcasm on personal capacity for such things. ‘Alan Swet-in-bedde’ would not be an acceptable cognomen, nor ‘William Badneighbour,’ nor ‘Thomas Two-year-olde,’ nor ‘Geoffrey Dringkedregges,’ nor ‘Anna Hellicate’ (hell-cat).^[606] ‘Alice Gude-ale-house’ was evidently a homely landlady, who kept her tavern in good repute by assiduous attention and good-humoured ways. ‘William Kepegest’ would seem to bespeak the kindly cheer of more private hospitality, while ‘John Drybread,’ if not stingy, was doubtless crusty. ‘John Ratelle-bagge,’ or ‘John Leve-to-day,’ or ‘Serle Go-to-Kirk,’ or ‘Thomas Horsenail,’ or ‘John Lightharness,’ or ‘Richard Myldew,’ or ‘John Buckleboots,’ or ‘Edward Tortoise-shell,’^[607] or ‘John Hornbuckle,’ 502while conveying no slight upon the character, would be obnoxious enough as surnames. Our ‘Doolittles,’ ‘Lovejoys,’ ‘Scattergoods,’ ‘Makepeaces,’ and ‘Hatewrongs’ belong to this same category. A large and varied assortment of this class will be found in the notes to this chapter, and to them I refer the reader. They are of a class which were especially popular at the time of which we are writing. Many of them are used as expletives in the railing poets and writers of the period. For instance, the author of ‘Cocke Lorelle’s Bote’ speaks of—

‘Slingthrift Fleshmonger,’

Also ‘Fabian Flatterer,’ and ‘Cicely Claterer,’

With ‘Adam Averus,’ flail-swinger,

And ‘Francis Flaproach,’ ...

With ‘Giles Unreste,’ mayor of Newgate,

And ‘Lewis Unlusty, the leesing-monger.’

Here is ‘Will Wily,’ the mill-pecker (thief),

And ‘Patrick Peevish,’ hairbeater,

With ‘Davy Drawlatch’^[608] of Rockingham.

Also ‘Hick Crookneck,’ the rope-maker,

And ‘Steven Measellmouth,’ mussell-taker,

With ‘Gogle-eyed Thompson,’ shepster of Lynn.

The above selection of fancy names will give us a fair idea of the kind of sobriquet which went down with the lower orders during the Angevine and Plantagenet dynasties.

But the largest branch of descriptive compounds is yet to be mentioned. We find not a few instances where names of simple relationship or occupation or office, or even, we may add, of patronymic character, having become compounded with adjectives expressive of the feeling of those with whom the nominee had to deal, naturally place themselves under this 503same category. These, so far as they have come down to us, are generally of a favourable, or at least harmless, description. Thus, to notice Christian names first, this has especially been the case with ‘John.’ Probably as this sobriquet grew into favour the practice became the means of distinguishing between several of the same title. Thus, as I hinted in my previous chapter, if John were doughty, he became ‘Prujean,’^[609] that is, preux-jean; if fat, ‘Grosjean;’ if young, ‘Youngjohn;’^[610] if clownish, ‘Hobjohn;’ if big, ‘Micklejohn;’ if small, ‘Littlejohn,’^[611] or ‘Petitjean;’^[612] if of a sunburnt countenance, ‘Brownjohn;’^[613] and if comely or well proportioned, ‘Properjohn;’ thus preserving a once familiar sense of ‘proper,’ which we may meet with in such an olden phrase as a ‘proper knight,’ or in our present Authorized Scripture Version, where our translators make St. Paul speak of 504Moses in his infancy as a ‘proper child.’^[614] Lastly, we have the estimable ‘Bonjohn,’ the origin, I doubt not, of ‘Bunyon’ and ‘Bunyan,’ the familiar bearer of the latter form of which we shall all doubtless admit to be well worthy his name. It is happy chance that when we speak, as we often do, of ‘good John Bunyan,’ we simply give him a reduplication of that very title which none more richly merits than he. In 1310 there was a ‘Jon Bonjon’ in London, and still earlier than this a ‘Durand le Bon Johan’ figures in the Hundred Rolls.^[615] Several others we may mention, more Saxon in their character, and all long obsolete, save one. Indeed, I doubt not they died with their original possessors. These are ‘Robert Good-robert’ (P.) and ‘Richard White-richard’ (J.), ‘William Holy-peter’ (A.) ‘William Jolif-will’ (A.) (i.e. ‘Jolly-Will’),^[616] and ‘William Prout-pierre’ (M.). ‘William Goodhugh’ (M.), however, has contrived to hold his own, unless, as Mr. Lower thinks, it belongs not to this category, but one I have already surveyed, that regarding complexion. Its early form of ‘Godhewe’ would seem perhaps to favour his notion. Names of this class, however, are rare. When we come to occupation 505the instances are much more common. Thus if we have ‘Husband,’ who doubtless owes his origin to his economical rather than his marital position, we have, besides, ‘Younghusband’—in his day, I dare say, a somewhat precocious youth—the now obsolete ‘Goodhusband;’ if ‘Skinner,’ then ‘Langskinner;’ if ‘Wright,’ then ‘Longwright’ or ‘Longus-Faber,’ as it is Latinized in our rolls; if ‘Smith,’ then ‘Gros-smith,’ that is ‘big-smith,’ or ‘Wild-smith’ or ‘Youngsmith;’ or if ‘Groom,’ then ‘Good-groom’^[617] and ‘Old-groom.’ If we have ‘Swain,’ we had also ‘Goodswain,’ or ‘Brownswain,’ or ‘Madswain,’ or ‘Summerswain,’ or ‘Cuteswain,’ or ‘Colswain’ (that is, deceitful swain, or ‘Littleswain;’ if ‘King,’^[618] then ‘Littleking,’ ‘Coyking,’ ‘Brownking,’ ‘Whiteking,’ and ‘Redking;’ if ‘Hine,’ or ‘Hyne,’ or ‘Hind,’ a peasant somewhat similar to Swain, then also ‘Goodhyne;’ if ‘Bond,’ then ‘Youngbond;’ if ‘Knave’ or servant, then ‘Smartknave,’ ‘Whiteknave,’ ‘Brownknave,’ and ‘Goodknave,’ the latter a strange compound to modern ears;^[619] if ‘Clerk,’ then ‘Bonclerk,’ ‘Beauclerk,’ ‘Goodclerk,’ ‘Mauclerk,’^[620] and 506‘Redclerk;’^[621] if ‘Page,’ then ‘Littlepage’^[622] and ‘Smallpage,’ and to put it here for convenience, ‘Lawpage;’ if ‘Wayt,’ a ‘watchman,’ then ‘Smartwayt,’ ‘Stertwait’ (active, on the alert), and ‘Goodwayt;’ if ‘Man’ or ‘Mann,’ a relic of the old ‘le Man’ or menial, then also ‘Goodman,’ a term, however, which became early used of any honest householder.^[623] ‘Le Mayster’ or ‘Master’ was common enough, but I am sorry to say I have not lighted upon a ‘Goodmayster’ as yet. Thus ‘Fellowe’ also, or ‘Fellowes,’ as we now have it, is met by ‘Goodfellow’ and ‘Longfellow;’ ‘Child’ by ‘Goodchild’ and the obsolete ‘Evilchild;’ ‘Son’ by ‘Littleson’ and ‘Fairson;’ ‘Sire’ by ‘Littlesire’ and ‘Fairsire;’ ‘Nurse’ by ‘Goodnurse,’ and ‘Fowl’ by ‘Goodfowl.’ Norman equivalents for these, however, were not wanting. ‘Goodfellow’ had its mate in ‘Boncompagnon,’ ‘Goodbody’ in ‘Bonecors,’ ‘Goodwait’ in ‘Bonserjeant,’ ‘Goodclerk’^[624] in ‘Bonclerk,’ 507and ‘Goodman’^[625] in ‘Bonhomme’ (our present ‘Bonham’)^[626] and ‘Prudhomme’ or ‘Pridham.’ ‘Evilchild’ found itself face to face with ‘Malenfant,’ ‘Littlesire’ with ‘Petitsire,’ ‘Goodchild’ with ‘Bonyfant,’ ‘Bonenfant,’ or ‘Bullivant,’ as we now have it, and ‘Godson’ or ‘Goodson,’ it may be, with ‘Bonfils’ or ‘Boffill.’ We have still ‘Clerk,’ but ‘Bonclerke,’ if not ‘Beauclerk,’ is obsolete; ‘Squier,’ but ‘Bonsquier’ has disappeared; ‘Chevalier’ also thrives, while ‘Bonchevalier’ is extinct. In some cases the simple and the compound forms are both wanting. It is so with our former ‘Vadlets’ and ‘Bonvalets,’ our ‘Vileins,’ ‘Beauvileyns,’ and ‘Mangevileyns’ (scabby), our ‘Queynts’ and ‘Bonqueynts,’ and our ‘Aventures’ and ‘Bonaventures,’ the latter sobriquet evidently given to one who had acquitted himself well in some mediæval joust or tournament. It is found in several records. Piers Plowman uses the term simple, when he speaks of Faith crying—

As dooth an heraud of armes,

When aventrous cometh to justes.

‘Christian,’ which may be but the proper name, still lives, though ‘Bonchristien’ is gone; and ‘Count,’ too, lingers, ‘Boncount’ being obsolete. Sometimes, strangely enough, the French idiomatic compounds got literally translated into Saxon, resulting in terms of utterly different meaning. Thus, as I have already shown, ‘Beaupere’ met face to face with ‘Fairsire,’ 508‘Beaufiz’^[627] with ‘Fairchild,’ and ‘Beaufrere’ with ‘Fairbrother.’ But this bare and naked translation into the vernacular seems to have been a general practice. The Norman ‘Petyclerk,’ for instance, was speedily met by ‘Smalwritere,’ ‘Blauncpayne’ by ‘Whitbred,’ and ‘Handsomebody,’ over which much obscurity has lingered, is, I have no hesitation in asserting, a directly Saxonised form of ‘Gentilcors,’ a name not unfrequently met with at this date.

Many of the names I have mentioned above, however, are, strange to say, being reproduced in the present day after a curious fashion. The multiplication of forenames has been the primary cause of this.^[628] In many cases these, by becoming as it were adjectives to the surname, form sobriquets no less ludicrous and striking than those which for that very reason so soon became obsolete. Thus such a combination as ‘Choice Pickrell’ is exactly equivalent to ‘Goodherring’ just alluded to. ‘Arch Bishop’ restores the archiepiscopal name which fell into abeyance in the twelfth century; while such other names as ‘Perfect Sparrow,’ ‘Savage Bear,’^[629] ‘Royal King,’ ‘Sing Song,’ 509‘Ivory Mallet,’^[630] ‘More Fortune,’^[631] ‘Christmas Day,’ ‘Paschal Lamb,’ ‘River Jordan,’^[632] or ‘Pine Coffin,’^[633] may be met by designations equally absurd, if less travestied. These, of course, must be attributed to mere eccentricity on the part of parents, rather than to accident. Combinations of this kind, however, have arisen of late years through another circumstance. It not unfrequently occurs that through certain circumstances two family names are united. Thus we have such conjunctions as ‘Burdett-Coutts’ or ‘Sclater-Booth.’ Speaking of these reminds me of a story I have heard anent a combination of this kind. A certain gentleman, it is said, of the name of Colley, in bequeathing in his will a considerable estate to a friend of the name of ‘Mellon,’ made it the condition of his acceptance that the legatee added his benefactor’s name to his own. His friend had no objection to the property, but when he found that his acquiescence in the terms imposed would make him ‘Mellon-Colley’ to the end of his days, he considered the matter afresh and declined the offer.

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(3) Nicknames from Oaths, Exclamations, Street-cries, and Mottoes.

(a) Oaths.—A remarkable, though not a very large, batch of surnames is to be referred to perhaps the most peculiar characteristic of all—that of the use of profane, or at least idle oaths. The prevalence of imprecations in mediæval times was simply extraordinary.^[634] If the writings of that period bear but the faintest comparison to the talk of men, their conversation must have been strangely seasoned. For instance, in the ‘Canterbury Tales’ we find introduced without the slightest ceremony such oaths as ‘for Cristes passion,’ ‘by Goddes saule,’ ‘for Cristes saule,’ ‘by Goddes dignitee,’ ‘Goddes banes,’^[635] ‘Cristes pein,’ ‘Goddes love,’ ‘Goddes hate,’ ‘Cristes foot,’ ‘God me save,’ and the more simple ‘By-God,’ or ‘Parde’ or ‘Pardieu.’ That they are mostly meaningless is their chief characteristic. ‘John Pardieu’ in the Rolls of Parliament will represent our many ‘Pardews,’ ‘Pardows,’ ‘Pardoes,’ and ‘Pardies;’ and although I have given a different origin in my second chapter,^[636] I may mention ‘Alina le Bigod’ (J.), or ‘John le Bygot’ (M.). ‘Barbara Godselve’^[637] (F.F.), ‘Richard Godesname’ (X.), 511‘Richard Godbeare’ (Z.), (now ‘Godbeer,’ ‘Godbehere,’ and ‘Goodbeer’), ‘Roger Godblod’ (E.) (God’s blood), ‘Alicia Godbodi’ (A.) (God’s body), seem all to be representative of familiar imprecations.

(b) Mottoes.—In many cases we can scarcely doubt that ensigncy has had something to do with the origin of our surnames. Edward III. at a tournament had his trappings embroidered with the couplet—

Hay, hay, the white swan,

By God’s soule I am thy man.

‘Godsol’ and ‘Godsoule’ formerly existed, and may have so risen. Among other names of this class may be mentioned ‘Janett God-send-us’^[638] (W. 13), ‘Roger Deus-salvet-dominas,’^[639] ‘John God-me-fetch,’ ‘John Dieu-te-ayde,’ ‘John Flourdieu,’ ‘Henry Grace-dieu,’^[640] ‘Henry Warde-dieu,’ ‘John Depart-dieu,’ and ‘John Angel-dieu.’^[641] From the escutcheons of their wearers these would easily pass on to the men themselves who first bore them as surnames.

(c) Exclamations.—‘Peter Damegod’ (M.) and ‘John Domegode’ (O.), meaning literally ‘Lord God,’ represent a once favourite expletive.^[642] We are here 512reminded that there was a time when ‘Dame,’ from dominus and domina alike, was applied to either sex. One or two exclamations of less objectionable import are also to be met with. ‘William Godthanke’ (A.) seems but a reversal of our ‘Thank God,’ while ‘Ralph Godisped’ (A.), fossilised in our ‘Goodspeeds,’ may represent ‘God-speed-thee.’^[643] ‘Richard Farewel’ (A.), ‘Simon Welfare’ (A.), ‘John Welcome’ (Z.Z.), ‘William Adieu’ (M.), would possess affixes readily given for their kindly and oft utterance. Our ‘Rummelows,’ ‘Rummileys,’ and ‘Rumbelows,’ without dispute, represent but the old well-known cry of ‘Rombylow’ or ‘Rummylow,’ the sailor’s ‘Heave-ho’ of later days. In the ‘Squire of Low Degree’ it is said—

Your mariners shall synge arow,

Hey how, and rumbylow.

The ancestor of those who bear the name was doubtless a sailor at some period of his career.^[644]

(d) Street-cries.—The calls of hawkers could not of course escape the good-humoured raillery of our forefathers. We find ‘Robert Freshfissh’ (X.) to have been a fishmonger, and ‘John Freshfisch’ is set down in the Rolls of Parliament. About the same time ‘Margaret Fressheharyng’ dwelt in the Metropolis. ‘Agnes Godefouele’ (A.) and ‘Basilia Godfowele’ (A.) were manifestly poultry-women, for even the most respectable occupations were then, as I have already shown, itinerant. But perhaps the most curious thing of all is to notice the price-calls that have 513found themselves inscribed in our registers. The larger sums will have a different origin, but I place them here for convenience sake. The Writs of Parliament give us a ‘Robert Peny;’ the ‘Wills and Inventories’ (Surt. Soc.), a ‘Thomas Fourpeni;’ the Hundred Rolls, a ‘John Fivepeni;’ the ‘Cal. Rot. Originalium,’ a ‘Thomas Sexpenne;’ the ‘Yorkshire Wills and Inventories’ (Surt. Soc.), a ‘John Ninepennies;’ and the Hundred Rolls, a ‘Fulco Twelpenes.’^[645] ‘James Fyppound’ (Fivepound) is mentioned in ‘Materials for History of Henry VII.’ So early as 1342 we find ‘John Twenti-mark’ to have been Rector of Risingham (Norfolk, 1, 64); while ‘William Hunderpound’ was Mayor of Lynn Regis in 1417 (do. viii. 532). This latter may be a translation of a Norman sobriquet, for ‘Grace Centlivre’ and ‘Joseph Centlivre’ are set down in a Surrey register of the same date. (‘Hist. and Ant. Survey,’ Index.) In both cases, I doubt not, the nickname was acquired from the peculiarity of the source whence the income was derived. ‘Centlivre’ existed in the eighteenth century at least, for it was Mrs. Centlivre who wrote the ‘Platonic Lady,’ which was issued in 1707. ‘Thomas Thousandpound,’ the last of this class, appears in the ‘Wardrobe Accounts’ (Edward I.), and concludes a list as strange as the most ardent ‘lover of the curious’ could desire.^[646]

514Looking back, however, upon these earlier names, how many varied and conflicting qualities of the human heart do they all reflect, some honourable, some harmlessly innocent, the greater part, I fear, discreditable. Of all how much might be said, but I refrain, lest I be liable to a charge of acting contrary to the spirit of the kindly old adage, ‘de mortuis nil nisi bonum’—‘speak no evil of the dead.’ Thus telltale, however, are our surnames, and if it be no pleasant task to expose the weaknesses and the frailties of them whose bones have so long ere this crumbled into decay, still we may comfort ourselves with the remembrance that their names, with many others I could have adduced had space permitted, offer no kind of reflection upon their present possessors. It is not unseldom we see the bearer of a worthy name dragging the same through the dust and mire of an ignoble life. It is amongst these names of somewhat unsavoury origin we oftentimes meet with the best, and the truest, and the noblest of our fellows.

515The Alphabetical Letters appended to the Names furnished in the Index refer to the Documents in the List here cited.

Hundred Rolls. A.

Calendarium Inquisitionum Post Mortem. B.

Calendarium Rotulorum Patentium in Turri Londinensi. C.

Calendarium Rotulorum Chartarum. D.

Rotuli Litterarum Clausarum in Turri Londonensi. E.

Valor Ecclesiasticus. F.

Calendarium Rotulorum Originalium. G.

Rolls of Parliament. H.

Placitorum in Dom. Cap. Westminster. J.

Testa de Neville, sive Liber Feodorum. K.

Calendarium Genealogicum. L.

Writs of Parliament. M.

Munimenta Gildhallæ Londoniensis. N.

Issues of the Exchequer. O.

Issue Roll. P.

History and Antiquities of York (Pub. 1785). Q.

Placita de Quo Warranto. R.

Guild of St. George, Norwich. S.

Excerpta e Rotulis Finium in Turri Londinensi. T.

V. Camden Society Publications.

V. 1. Bury St. Edmunds Wills.

V. 2. Dingley’s History from Marble.

V. 3. Trevelyan Papers.

V. 4. Camden Miscellany.

V. 5. Smith’s Obituary.

V. 6. Diary of John Rous.

V. 7. Liber Famelicus—Sir James Whitelock.

V. 8. Chronicon Petroburgense.

V. 9. Proceedings against Dame Alice Kyteler.

V. 10. Autobiography of Sir John Bramston.

V. 11. Doomsday Book of St. Paul’s.

V. 12. Ricart’s Kalendar.

V. 13. Proceedings in Kent.

V. 14. Rutland Papers.

W. Surtees’ Society Publications.

W. 1. Coldingham Priory.

W. 2. Testamenta Ebor.

W. 3. Durham Household Book.

516W. 4. Kirkby Inquest.

W. 5. Knight’s Fees.

W. 6. Nom. Villarum.

W. 7. Illustrative Documents.

W. 8. Priory of Finchdale.

W. 9. Fabric Rolls of York Minister, and Wills and Inventories.

W. 10. Hexham Priory.

W. 11. Corpus Christi Guild.

W. 12. Hist. Dunelm.

W. 13. Barnes’ Eccles. Proceedings.

W. 14. Visitation of Yorkshire.

W. 15. Feodarum Prior. Dunelm.

W. 16. Depositions from York Castle.

W. 17. Memorials of Fountains Abbey.

W. 18. Depositions and Eccles. Proceedings.

W. 19. Liber Vitæ.

W. 20. Remains of Dean Granville.

Memorials of London (Riley). X.

Proceedings and Ordinances: Privy Council. Y.

Calendar of Proceedings in Chancery (Elizabeth). Z.

The Publications of the Chetham Society. A A.

Wills and Inventories (Lancashire). A A. 1.

Three Lancashire Documents. A A. 2.

Lancashire Chauntries. A A. 3.

Birch Chapel. A A. 4.

Rotuli Normanniæ in Turri Londinensi. B B.

Documents Illustrative of English History. D D.

Index to ‘Originalia et Memoranda.’ E E.

History of Norfolk (Blomefield). F F.

Fines (Richard I.). G G.

History of Hertfordshire (Clutterbuck). H H.

Rotuli Curiæ Regis. M M.

Calendar and Inventories of the Treasury. N N.

History of Leicestershire (Nicholl’s). P P.

Register—St. James, Piccadilly. Q Q.

State Paper office. R R.

Patent Rolls. R R. 1.

Compoti. R R. 2.

Issue Rolls. R R. 3.

History of Durham (Surtees). S S.

State Papers (Domestic). T T.

Materials for History of Reign of Henry VII. X X. 1.

Registrum Abbatiæ Johannis Whethamstede. X X. 2.

Letters from Northern Registers. X X. 3.

Calendar to Pleadings (Elizabeth). Z Z.

517