VI.— Metronymics

We have already mentioned Joan as having bequeathed several surnames. We did not then allude to the somewhat difficult subject of metronymics; we shall first prove by examples that there are a large number of such. We shall then briefly unfold their origin from our point of view. The feminine of Peter, ‘Petronilla,’ was a name in familiar use at this time. St. Petronilla, once much besought as a help against fevers, would no doubt add to its popularity. Barnyby Googe says:—

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 may call 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 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,

and a little further on,

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,’ ‘Emmes,’ ‘Emsons,’ ‘Empsons,’ and ‘Emmotsons.’

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.

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.

Our ‘Sissons,’ ‘Sysons,’ and ‘Sisselsons’ 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. Our ‘Dowses,’ ‘Dossons,’ and ‘Dowsons’ represent the once popular ‘Douce,’ ‘Duce,’ or ‘Dulce,’ more correctly ‘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 called dowcetts. 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,’ 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 la Blund,’ 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.’ 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.

‘Letson’ is met in the fourteenth century as ‘Fitz-Lettice.’ ‘Theophania’ was anything but unpopular, but its length made it unavoidable but that it should be 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 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 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.

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.

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;

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.

The diminutive ‘Gilot’ or ‘Juliet’ is used in the same way. In an old metrical sermon it is said—

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. Such names as 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.’ The pet names too were pretty, important in a day when the full name was rarely if ever used. 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 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.’ 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 our marionette. The one only form in which it can be said to occur in our English records is 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. 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,’ our ‘Meakins’ and ‘Meekins,’ and our ‘Mawsons’ 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.

Speaking of Mary, we must not forget Elizabeth, known, generations ere Queen Bess made it so 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 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. Another form of the same diminutive was ‘Isot,’ hence ‘Isotte Symes,’ ‘Izott Barn,’ or ‘Ezota Hall.’ 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.