Читать книгу The Romance of Names - Ernest Weekley - Страница 4

"My name is Walter Whitmore.

How now! Why start'st thou? What! doth death affright?

Suffolk. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.

A cunning man did calculate my birth,

And told me that by water I should die."

(2 Henry VI, iv.1)

Hence the name Waters, which has not usually any connection with water; while Waterman, though sometimes occupative, is also formed from Walter, like Hickman from Hick (Chapter VI). Collins is from Colin, a French diminutive of Col, i.e. Nicol or Nicolas.

Tebbitt is a diminutive of Theobald, a favourite medieval name which had the shortened forms Teb, Tib, Tub, whence a number of derivatives. But names in Teb- and Tib- may also come from Isabel (Chapter X). Osborne is the Anglo-Saxon name Osbeorn.

Of course, each of these personal names has a meaning, e.g. Amabel, ultimately Latin, means lovable, and Walter, a Germanic name, means "rule army" (Modern Ger. walten and Heer), but the discussion of such meanings lies outside our subject. It is, in fact, sometimes difficult to distinguish between the personal name and the nickname. Thus Pagan, whence Payn, with its diminutives Pannell, Pennell, etc., Gold, Good, German, whence Jermyn, Jarman, and many other apparent nicknames, occur as personal names in the earliest records. Their etymological origin is in any case the same as if they were nicknames.

To return to our football team, Poulton, Lacey, Hall, and Manton are local. There are several villages in Cheshire and Lancashire named Poulton, i.e. the town or homestead (Chapter XIII) by the pool. Lacey occurs in Domesday Book as de Laci, from some small spot in Normandy, probably the hamlet of Lassy (Calvados). Hall is due to residence near the great house of the neighbourhood. If Hall's ancestor's name had chanced to be put down in Anglo-French as de la sale, he might now be known as Sale, or even as Saul. Manton is the name of places in Lincolnshire and Northamptonshire, so that this player, at any rate, has an ancestral qualification for the East Midlands.

The only true occupative name in the list is Cook, for Earl is a nickname. Cook was perhaps the last occupative title to hold its own against the inherited name. Justice Shallow, welcoming Sir John Falstaff, says—

"Some pigeons, Davy; a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and

any pretty little tiny kickshaws. Tell William Cook" (2 Henry IV, v. i.).

And students of the Ingoldsby Legends will remember that

"Ellen Bean ruled his cuisine.—He called her Nelly Cook."

(Nell Cook, 1. 32.)

There are probably a goodly number of housewives of the present day who would be at a loss if suddenly asked for "cook's" name in full. It may be noted that Lequeux means exactly the same, and is of identical origin, archaic Fr. le queux, Lat. coquus, while Kew is sometimes for Anglo-Fr. le keu, where keu is the accusative of queux (Alternative Origins, Chapter I).

NICKNAMES

The nicknames are Earl, Bull, and Muddiman. Nicknames such as Earl may have been acquired in various ways (Chapter XV). Bull and Muddiman are singularly appropriate for Rugby scrummagers, though the first may be from an inn or shop sign, rather than from physique or character. It is equivalent to Thoreau, Old Fr. toreau (taureau). Muddiman is for Moodyman, where moody has its older meaning of valiant; cf. its German cognate mutig. The weather on the day in question gave a certain fitness both to the original meaning and the later form.

The above names are, with the exception of Hancock, Hudson, and Muddiman, easy to solve; but it must not be concluded that every list is as simple, or that the obvious is always right. The first page of Bards Dictionary of Surnames might well serve as a danger-signal to cocksure writers on this subject. The names Abbey and Abbott would naturally seem to go back to an ancestor who lived in or near an and to another who had been nicknamed the abbot.

But Abbey is more often from the Anglo-French entry le abbé, the abbot, and Abbott may be a diminutive of Ab, standing for Abel, or Abraham, the first of which was a common medieval font-name. Francis Holyoak describes himself on the title-page of his Latin Dictionary (1612) as Franciscus de Sacra Quercu, but his name also represents the holly oak, or holm oak (Tree Names, Chapter XII). On the other hand, Holliman always occurs in early rolls as hali or holi man, i.e. holy man.

MYTHICAL ETYMOLOGIES

It may be stated here, once for all, that etymologies of names which are based on medieval latinizations, family mottoes, etc., are always to be regarded with suspicion, as they involve the reversing of chronology, or the explanation of a name by a pun which has been made from it. We find Lilburne latinized as de insula tontis, as though it were the impossible hybrid de l'isle burn, and Beautoy sometimes as de bella fide, whereas foy is the Old French for beech, from Lat. fagus. Napier of Merchiston had the motto n'a pier, "has no equal," and described himself on title-pages as the Nonpareil, but his ancestor was a servant who looked after the napery. With Holyoak's rendering of his own name we may compare Parkinson's "latinization" of his name in his famous book on gardening(1629), which bears the title Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris, i.e. the Earthly Paradise of "Park in Sun."

Many noble names have an anecdotic "explanation." I learnt at school that Percy came from "pierce-eye," in allusion to a treacherous exploit at Alnwick. The Lesleys claim descent from a hero who overthrew a Hungarian champion

"Between the less lee and the mair He slew the knight and left him there."

(Quentin Durward, ch. xxxvii.)

Similarly, the great name of Courtenay, Courtney, of French local origin, is derived in an Old French epic from court nez, short nose, an epithet conferred on the famous Guillaume d'Orange, who, when the sword of a Saracen giant removed this important feature, exclaimed undauntedly—

"Mais que mon nés ai un poi acorcié,

Bien sai mes nons en sera alongié."

(Li Coronemenz Looïs, 1. 1159.)

[Footnote: "Though I have my nose a little shortened, I know well that my name will be thereby lengthened."]

I read lately in some newspaper that the original Lockhart took the "heart" of the Bruce to the Holy Land in a "locked" casket. Practically every famous Scottish name has a yarn connected with it, the gem perhaps being that which accounts for Guthrie. A Scottish king, it is said, landed weary and hungry as the sole survivor of a shipwreck. He approached a woman who was gutting fish, and asked her to prepare one for him. The kindly fishwife at once replied, "I'll gut three." Whereupon the king, dropping into rime with a readiness worthy of Mr. Wegg, said—

"Then gut three, Your name shall be,"

[Footnote added by scanner, who has not read much of Dickens: Silas Wegg was a ready-witted character in "Our Mutual Friend."]

and conferred a suitable estate on his benefactress.

After all, truth is stranger than fiction. There is quite enough legitimate cause for wonderment in the fact that Tyas is letter for letter the same name as Douch, or that Strangeways, from a district in Manchester which, lying between the Irwell and the Irk, formerly subject to floods, is etymologically strong-wash. The Joannes Acutus whose tomb stands in Florence is the great free-lance captain Sir John Hawkwood, "omitting the h in Latin as frivolous, and the k and w as unusual" (Verstegan, Restitution of Decayed Intelligence, ch. ix), which makes him almost as unrecognizable as that Peter Gower, the supposed founder of freemasonry, who turned out to be Pythagoras.

ALTERNATIVE ORIGINS

Many names are susceptible of two, three, or more explanations. This is especially true of some of our commonest monosyllabic surnames. Bell may be from Anglo-Fr. le bel (beau), or from a shop sign, or from residence near the church or town bell. It may even have been applied to the man who pulled the bell. Finally, the ancestor may have been a lady called Isabel, a supposition which does not necessarily imply illegitimacy (Chapter X). Ball is sometimes the shortened form of the once favourite Baldwin. It is also from a shop sign, and perhaps most frequently of all is for bald. The latter word is properly balled, i.e., marked with a ball, or white streak, a word of Celtic origin; cf. "piebald," i.e., balled like a (mag)pie, and the "bald-faced stag." [Footnote: Halliwell notes that the nickname Ball is the name of a horse in Chaucer and in Tusser, of a sheep in the Promptorium Parvulorum, and of a dog in the Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VIII. In each case the name alludes to a white mark, or what horsy people call a star. A cow thus marked is called in Scotland a boasand cow, and from the same word comes the obsolete bawson, badger.] From the same word we get the augmentative Ballard, used, according to Wyclif, by the little boys who unwisely called to an irritable prophet—

"Stey up ballard" (2 Kings ii. 23).

The name may also be personal, Anglo-Sax. Beal-heard. Rowe may be local, from residence in a row (cf. Fr. Delarue), or it may be an accidental spelling of the nickname Roe, which also survives in the Mid. English form Ray (Beasts, Chapter XXIII).

But Row was also the shortened form of Rowland, or Roland. Cobb is an Anglo-Saxon name, as in the local Cobham, but it is also from the first syllable of Cobbold (for either Cuthbeald or Godbeald) and the second of Jacob. From Jacob come the diminutives Cobbin and Coppin.

Or, to take some less common names, House not only represents the medieval de la house, but also stands for Howes, which, in its turn, may be the plural of how, a hill (Chapter XII), or the genitive of How, one of the numerous medieval forms of Hugh (Chapter VI). Hind may be for Hine, a farm servant (Chapter III), or for Mid. Eng. hende, courteous (cf. for the vowel change Ind, Chapter XIII), and is perhaps sometimes also an animal nickname (Beasts, Chapter XXIII). Rouse is generally Fr. roux, i.e. the red, but it may also be the nominative form of Rou, i.e. of Rolf, or Rollo, the sea-king who conquered Normandy. [Footnote: Old French had a declension in two cases. The nominative, which has now almost disappeared, was usually distinguished by -s. This survives in a few words, e.g. fils, and proper names such as Charles, Jules, etc] Was Holman the holy man, the man who lived near a holm, i.e. holly (Chapter XII), on a holm, or river island (Chapter XII), or in a hole, or hollow? All these origins have equal claims.

As a rule, when an apparent nickname is also susceptible of another solution, baptismal, local, or occupative, the alternative explanation is to be preferred, as the popular tendency has always been towards twisting names into significant words. Thus, to take an example of each class, Diamond is sometimes for an old name Daymond (Daegmund), Portwine is a corruption of Poitevin, the man from Poitou (Chapter XI), and Tipler, which now suggests alcoholic excess, was, as late as the seventeenth century, the regular name for an alehouse keeper.

In a very large number of cases there is a considerable choice for the modern bearer of a name. Any Boon or Bone who wishes to assert that

Of Hereford's high blood he came,

A race renown'd for knightly fame

(Lord of the Isles, vi. 15),

can claim descent from de Bohun. While, if he holds that kind hearts are more than coronets, he has an alternative descent from some medieval le bon. This adjective, used as a personal name, gave also Bunn and Bunce; for the spelling of the latter name cf. Dance for Dans, and Pearce for Piers, the nominative of Pierre (Alternative Origins, Chapter I), which also survives in Pears and Pearson. Swain may go back to the father of Canute, or to some hoary-headed swain who, possibly, tended the swine. Not all the Seymours are St. Maurs. Some of them were once Seamers, i.e. tailors. Gosling is rather trivial, but it represents the romantic Jocelyn, in Normandy Gosselin, a diminutive of the once very popular personal name Josse. Goss is usually for goose, but any Goss, or Gossett, unwilling to trace his family back to John Goose, "my lord of Yorkes fole," [Footnote: Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York (1502).] may likewise choose the French Josse or Gosse. Goss may also be a dialect pronunciation of gorse, the older form of which has given the name Gorst. Coward, though humble, cow-herd, is no more timid than Craven, the name of a district in the West Riding of Yorkshire.

NAMES DESIRABLE OR UNDESIRABLE

Mr. Chucks, when in good society, "seldom bowed, Sir, to anything under three syllables" (Peter Simple, ch. xvii.). But the length of a name is not necessarily an index of a noble meaning. As will be seen (pp. 74, 5), a great number of our monosyllabic names belong to, the oldest stratum of all. The boatswain's own name, from Norman-Fr. chouque, a tree-stump, is identical with the rather aristocratic Zouch or Such, from the usual French form souche. Stubbs, which has the same meaning, may be compared with Curson, Curzon, Fr. courson, a stump, a derivative of court, short. [Footnote: Curson is also a dialect variant of Christian.] Pomeroy has a lordly ring, but is the Old French for Applegarth or Appleyard (Tree Names, Chapter XIV), and Camoys means flat-nosed, Fr. Camus—

"This wenche thikke and wel y-growen was,

With kamuse nose, and eyen greye as glas."

(A, 3973.)

Kingsley, speaking of the name assumed by John Briggs, says—

"Vavasour was a very pretty name, and one of those which is [sic] supposed by novelists and young ladies to be aristocratic; why so is a puzzle; as its plain meaning is a tenant farmer and nothing more or less" (Two Years Ago, ch. xi.).

The word is said to represent a Vulgar Lat. vassus vassorum, vassal of vassals.

On the other hand, many a homely name has a complimentary meaning. Mr. Wegg did not like the name Boffin, but its oldest form is bon-fin, good and fine. In 1273 Mr. Bumble's name was spelt bon-bel, good and beautiful. With these we may group Bunker, of which the oldest form is bon-quer (bon coeur), and Boffey, which corresponds to the common French name Bonnefoy, good faith; while the much more assertive Beaufoy means simply fine beech (Chapter I).

With Bunker we may compare Goodhart and Cordeaux, the oldest form of the latter being the French name Courdoux. Momerie and Mummery are identical with Mowbray, from Monbrai in Normandy. Molyneux impresses more than Mullins, of which it is merely the dim., Fr. moulins, mills. The Yorkshire name Tankard is identical with Tancred. Stiggins goes back to the illustrious Anglo-Saxon name Stigand, as Wiggins does to wigand, a champion. Cadman represents Caedmon, the name of the poet-monk of Whitby. Segar is an imitative form of the Anglo-Sax. Saegaer, of which the normal modern representative is Sayers. Giblett is not a name one would covet, but it stands in the same relationship to Gilbert as Hamlet does to Hamo.

A small difference in spelling makes a great difference in the look of a name. The aristocratic Coke is an archaic spelling of Cook, the still more lordly Herries sometimes disguises Harris, while the modern Brassey is the same as de Bracy in Ivanhoe. The rather grisly Nightgall is a variant of Nightingale. The accidental retention of particles and articles is also effective, e.g. Delmar, Delamere, Delapole, impress more than Mears and Pool, and Larpent (Fr. I'arpent), Lemaitre, and Lestrange more than Acres, Masters, and Strange. There are few names of less heroic sound than Spark and Codlin, yet the former is sometimes a contraction of the picturesque Sparrow-hawk, used as a personal name by the Anglo-Saxons, while the latter can be traced back via the earlier forms Quodling (still found), Querdling, Querdelyoun to Coeur de Lion.