We are not without traces of this special kind of sobriquets even in the early days before the Norman Conquest was dreamt or thought of. I have already instanced the Venerable Bede as speaking of two missionaries who, both bearing the name of Hewald, were distinguished by the surnames of ‘White’ and ‘Black,’ on account of their hair partaking of those respective hues. In the ninth century, too, Ethelred, Earl of the Gaini, was styled the ‘Mucel’ or ‘Mickle’—‘eo quod erat corpore magnus et prudentiâ grandis.’ With the incoming of the Normans, however, came a great change. The burlesque was part of their nature. A vein for the ludicrous was speedily acquired. It spread in every rank and grade of society. The Saxon himself was touched with the contagion, ere yet the southern blood was infused into his veins. Equally among the high and the low did such sobriquets as ‘le Bastard,’ ‘le Rouse,’ ‘le Beauclerk,’ ‘le Grisegonel’ (Greycloke), ‘Plantagenet,’ ‘Sansterre,’ and ‘Cœur de lion’ find favour. But it did not stay here; the more ridiculous and absurd characteristics became the butt of attack. In a day when buffoonery had become a profession, when every roughly-sketched drawing was a caricature, every story a record of licentious adventure, it could not be otherwise. The only wonderment is the tame acquiescence on the part of the stigmatized bearer. To us now-a-days, to be termed amongst our fellows ‘Richard the Crookbacked,’ ‘William Blackinthemouth,’ ‘Thomas the Pennyfather’ (that is, the Miser), or ‘Thomas Wrangeservice’ (the opposite of Walter Scott’s ‘Andrew Fairservice’), would be looked upon as mere wanton insult. But it was then far different. The times, as I have said, were rougher and coarser, and the delicacy of feeling which would have shrunk from so addressing those with whom we had to deal, or from making them the object of our banter, would have been perfectly misunderstood. Apart from this, too, the bearer, after all, had little to do with the question. He did not give himself the nickname he received it; pleasant or unpleasant, as he had no voice in the acquisition, so had he none in its retention. There was nothing for it but good-tempered acquiescence. We know to this very day how difficult was the task of getting rid of our school nicknames, how they clung to us from the unhappy hour in which some sharp-witted, quick, discerning youngster found out our weak part, and dubbed us by a sobriquet, which, while it perhaps exaggerated the characteristic to which it had reference, had the effect which a hundred admonitions from paternal or magisterial head-quarters had not, to make us see our folly and mend our ways. None the less, however, did the affix remain, and this was our punishment. How often, when in after years we come accidentally across some quondam schoolfellow, each staring strangely at the other’s grizzly beard or beetled brow, the old sobriquet will crop up to the lips, and in the very naturalness with which the expression is uttered all the separation of years of thought and feeling is forgotten, and we are instantly back to the old days and the old haunts, and pell-mell in the thick of old boyish scrapes again. Yet perchance these names were offensive. But they have wholly lost their force. We had ceased to feel hurt by them long before we parted in early days. See how this, too, is illustrated in the present day in the names of certain sects and parties. We talk calmly of ‘Capuchins,’ ‘Quakers,’ ‘Ranters,’ ‘Whigs’ and ‘Tories,’ and yet some of these taken literally are offensive enough, especially the political ones. But, as we know, all that attached to them of odium has long ago become clouded, obscured, and forgotten, and now they are the accepted, nay, proudly owned, titles of the party they represent. Were it not for this we might be puzzled to conceive why in these early times such a name as ‘le Bonde,’ significant of nothing but personal servitude and galling oppression, was allowed to remain. That ‘le Free’ and ‘le Freman’ and ‘le Franch-homme’ should survive the ravages of time is natural enough. But with ‘Bond’ it is different. It bespoke slavery. Yet it is one of our most familiar names of to-day. How is this? The explanation is easy. The term was used to denote personality, not position; the notion of condition was lost in that of identity. It was just the same with sobriquets of a more humorous and broad character, with nicknames in fact. The roughest humour of those rough days is oftentimes found in these early records, and the surnames which, putting complimentary and objectionable and neutral together, belong to this day to this class, form still well-nigh the largest proportion of our national nomenclature. There is something indescribably odd, when we reflect about it, that the turn of a toe, the twist of a leg, the length of a limb, the colour of a lock of hair, a conceited look, a spiteful glance, a miserly habit of some in other respects unknown and long-forgotten ancestor, should still five or six centuries afterwards be unblushingly proclaimed to the world by the immediate descendants therefrom. And yet so it is with our ‘Cruickshanks’ or ‘Whiteheads’ or ‘Meeks’ or ‘Proudmans;’ thus it is with our ‘Longmans’ and ‘Shortmans,’ our ‘Biggs’ and ‘Littles,’ and the endless others we shall speedily mention. Still these represent a better class of surnames. As time wore on, and the nation became more refined, there was an attempt made, successful in many instances, to throw off the more objectionable of these names. Some were so utterly gross and ribald as even in that day to sink into almost instant oblivion. Some, I doubt not, never became hereditary at all.
In glancing briefly over a portion of these names we must endeavour to affect some order. We might divide them into two classes merely, physical and moral or mental peculiarities; but this would scarcely suffice for distinction, as each would still be so large as to make us feel ourselves to be in a labyrinth that had no outlet. Nor would these two classes be sufficiently comprehensive? There would still be left a large mass of sobriquets which could scarcely be placed with fitness in either category: nicknames from Nature, nicknames from oaths, or street-cries, or mottoes, or nicknames again in the shape of descriptive compounds. Names from the animal kingdom, of course, could be set under either a moral or physical head, as, in all cases, saving when they have arisen from inn-signs or ensigns, they would be affixed on the owner for some supposed affinity he bore in mind or body to the creature in question. Still it will be easier to place them, as well as some others, under a third and more miscellaneous category. These three divisions I would again subdivide in the following fashion:—
I.—Physical and External Peculiarities.
(1) Nicknames from peculiarities of relationship, condition, age, size, shape, and capacity.
(2) Nicknames from peculiarities of complexion.
(3) Nicknames from peculiarities of dress and its accoutrements.
II.—Mental and Moral Peculiarities.
(1) Nicknames from peculiarities of disposition—complimentary.
(2) Nicknames from peculiarities of disposition—objectionable.
III.—Miscellaneous.