The ‘Promp. Par.’ defines a cozen to be an ‘emys son,’ and it is from him, no doubt, our many ‘Cousens,’ ‘Cousins,’ ‘Couzens,’ and ‘Cozens’ have sprung, descended as they are from ‘Richard le Cusyn’ (A.), or ‘John le Cosyn’ (G.), or ‘Thomas le Cozun’ (E.). ‘Kinsman’ (‘John Kynnesman,’ Z.Z.) may be of the same degree. ‘Widowson’ (‘William le Wedweson,’ R., ‘Simon fil. Vidue,’ A.[[440]]) is apparently the same as the once existing ‘Faderless’ (‘John Faderless,’ M.),[[441]] while ‘Brotherson’ and ‘Sisterson’ (‘Jacob Systerson,’ W. 3) seem to be but old-fashioned phrases for a nephew, in which case they are but synonymous with the Norman ‘Nephew,’ ‘Neve,’ ‘Neave,’ or ‘Neaves;’ all these forms being familiar to our directories, and descendants of ‘Reyner le Neve’ (A.), or ‘Richard le Nevu’ (E.), or ‘Robert le Neave’ (Z.). Capgrave, giving the descent of Eber, says: ‘In this yere (anno 2509) Sala begat Heber; and of this Eber, as auctouris say, came the people Hebrak, for Heber was neve unto Sem.’ Thus again, the Saxon ‘Arnold le Fader’ was met by the Norman ‘John Parent,’ and the still more foreign ‘Ralph le Padre,’ while ‘William le Brother’ found his counterpart in ‘Geoffrey le Freer,’ or ‘Frere;’ but as in so many cases this latter must be a relic of the old freere or friar, we had better refer it, perhaps, to that more spiritual relationship.[[442]]
(b) Condition.—We have still traces in our midst of sobriquets relating to the poverty or wealth of the original bearer. Our ‘Poores,’ often found as ‘Powers,’ are descended from the ‘Roger le Poveres,’ or ‘Robert le Poors,’ of the thirteenth century, while our ‘Riches’ are set down at the same period as ‘Swanus le Riche’ or ‘Gervase le Riche.’ Of several kindred surnames we may mention a ‘John le Nedyman,’ now obsolete, and an ‘Elyas le Diveys,’ which, in the more Biblical form of Dives, still exists in the metropolis. It is somewhat remarkable that we should have the Jewish ‘Lazarus’ also, and that this too should have arisen in not a few instances from the fact that its first possessor was a leper. ‘Nicholas le Lepere’ and ‘Walter le Lepper’ speak for themselves. With the above we may ally our early ‘Robert le Ragiddes’ and ‘Thomas le Raggedes,’ which remind us that our vagabonds, if not our ‘Raggs’ and ‘Raggetts,’ are of no modern extraction, but come of a very old family indeed! ‘Half-naked,’ I unhesitatingly at first set down as one of this class, but it is local.[[443]]
(c) Age, Size, Shape, Capacity.—This class is very large, and embraces every possible, and well-nigh impossible feature of human life. A glance over our old records, and we can almost at once find ‘Lusty’ and ‘Strong,’ ‘Long’ and ‘Short,’ ‘Bigg’[[444]] and ‘Little,’ ‘High’ and ‘Lowe’ (both perchance local), ‘Large’ and ‘Small,’ ‘Thick’ and ‘Thin,’ ‘Slight’ and ‘Round,’ ‘Lean’ and ‘Fatt,’ ‘Megre’ and ‘Stout,’[[445]] ‘Ould’ and ‘Young,’ and ‘Light’ and ‘Heavy.’ Was this not sufficient? Were there several in the same community who could boast similarity in respect to one or other of these varieties? Then we got ‘Stronger,’ ‘Shorter,’ ‘Younger,’[[446]] ‘Littler,’ ‘Least,’[[447]] ‘Senior,’ ‘Junior,’ and in some cases ‘Elder.’ Some of these are of course Norman; but when Saxon occur we can all but invariably find the Norman equivalent. Thus, if ‘Large’ be Saxon, ‘Gros’ (now ‘Grose’ and ‘Gross’) is Norman; if ‘Bigge’ be Saxon, ‘Graunt’ or ‘Grant’ or ‘Grand’ is Norman;[[448]] if ‘Small’ be Saxon, ‘Pettitt’ or ‘Pettye’ or ‘Petty’ or ‘Peat’ is Norman. Thus again, ‘Lowe’ meets face to face with ‘Bas’ or ‘Bass,’ ‘Short’ with ‘Curt,’ ‘Fatte’ with ‘Gras’ or ‘Grass’ or ‘Grace,’[[449]] ‘Strong’ with ‘Fort,’ ‘Ould’ with ‘Viele,’ ‘Twist’ with ‘Tort,’ and ‘Young’ or ‘Yonge’ with ‘Jeune.’ Sometimes the termination ‘man’ is added, as in ‘Strongman,’ ‘Longman,’ ‘Smallman,’ ‘Oldman,’ and ‘Youngman,’ or if a woman, dame, as in such a case as ‘Matilda Lenedame,’ which as a surname died probably with its owner. Sometimes, again, we have the older and more antique form, as in ‘Smale’ and ‘Smaleman,’ that is, small; ‘Yonge’ and ‘Yongeman,’ that is, young; and ‘Lyte’ and ‘Lyteman,’ that is, little; ‘Wight’ and ‘Wightman,’ now obsolete in our general vocabulary, referred to personal strength and activity. In the ‘Vision of Piers Plowman,’ one of the sons of ‘Sire Inwit’ is described as being—
A wight man of strength.
‘Manikin,’ found at the same period, needs no explanation.[[450]]
Of the less general we have well-nigh numberless illustrations. It is only when we come to look at our nomenclature we find out how many separate limbs, joints, and muscles we individually possess, and by what a variety of terms they severally went in earlier days. No treatise of anatomy can be more precise in regard to this than our directories. Some prominence or other peculiarity about the head or face has given us our ‘Chins,’ ‘Chekes,’ or ‘Cheeks,’ and ‘Jowles,’ or ‘Joules.’ We are all familiar with the protruding fangs of our friend ‘Jowler’ of the canine community. Thus even here also we must place ‘cheek by jowl.’ ‘Glossycheek’ (‘Bertholomew Gloscheke,’ A.) once existed, but is obsolete now. The same is true in respect of ‘Duredent’ (‘Walter Duredent,’ E.), or ‘Dent-de-fer,’ i.e., ‘Irontoothed’ (‘Robert Dent-de-fer,’ E.), which spoke well no doubt for the masticatory powers of its owner. ‘Merrymouth’ (‘Richard Merymouth,’ X.) would be a standing testimony to its possessor’s good humour. It is decidedly more acceptable than ‘Dogmow’[[451]] (‘Arnulph Dogmow,’ A.) or ‘Calvesmawe’ (‘Robert Calvesmaghe,’ M.), recorded at the same period. Sweetmouth’ (‘Robert Swetemouth,’ D.) also speaks for the sentiment of the times. In modern days, at least, the eye is supposed to be one of the chief points of personal identity. I only find one or two instances, however, where this feature has given the sobriquet in our mediæval rolls. In the ‘Calendarium Genealogicum’ a ‘Robertus Niger-oculus,’ or ‘Robert Blackeye,’ is set down as having been ‘pro felonia suspensus.’ We are reminded in his name of the ‘Blackeyed Susan’ of later days, but whether Nature had given him the said hue or some pugilistic encounter I cannot say. Judging by his antecedents, so far as the above Latin sentence betrays them, the latter would seem to be the more likely origin.[[452]] ‘William le Blynd,’ or ‘Ralph le Blinde,’ speak for themselves.[[453]] The ‘Saxon Head,’ in some cases local, doubtless, is still familiar to us. Its more Norman ‘Tait’ fitly sits at present upon the archiepiscopal throne of Canterbury. Grostete, one of which name was a distinguished bishop of Lincoln in the fourteenth century, is now represented by ‘Greathead’ and ‘Broadhead’ only. Butler, in his ‘Hudibras,’ records it in the more colloquial form of Grosted—
None a deeper knowledge boasted,
Since Hodge Bacon, and Bob Grosted.
The equally foreign ‘Belteste’ (‘John Beleteste,’ A.) is content, likewise, to allow ‘Fairhead’ (‘Richard Faireheved,’ H.) to transmit to posterity the claims of its early possessor to capital grace. ‘Blackhead’[[454]] existed in the seventeenth, and ‘Hardhead’ in the fifteenth century. These are all preferable, however, to ‘Lambshead’ (‘Agnes Lambesheved,’ A.), found some generations earlier, and still firmly settled in our midst, as the ‘London Directory’ can vouch.[[455]] So much for the head. ‘Neck’ and ‘Swire’ are both synonymous. Chaucer describes Envy as ready to ‘scratch her face,’ or ‘rend her clothes,’ or ‘tear her swire,’[[456]] in respect of which latter feat we should now more generally say ‘tear her hair.’ Either operation, however, would be unpleasant enough, and it is just as well that for all practical purposes it only occurs in poetry. Some characteristic of strength, or beauty, or deformity (let us assume one of the former) has given us our ‘Hands,’ ‘Armes,’ and ‘Brass’s,’ from the old ‘Braz.’ ‘Finger,’ once existing (‘Matilda Finger,’ H.), is now obsolete. Whether this sobriquet was given on the same grounds as that bestowed on the redoubtable ‘Tom Thumb,’ I cannot say. ‘Brazdifer’ (‘Simon Braz-de-fer,’ E., ‘Michael Bras-de-fer,’ B.B.), arm of iron, once a renowned nom-de-plume, still dwells, though obsolete in itself, in our ‘Strongithams’ and ‘Armstrongs.’[[457]] A common form of this North-country name was ‘Armstrang’ or ‘Armestrang’ (‘Adam le Armstrang,’ G.), reminding us that our ‘Strangs’ are but the fellows of our more southern ‘Strongs’ (‘John le Strang,’ E., ‘Joscelin le Strong,’ H.). ‘Lang’[[458]] and ‘Long’ represent a similar difference of pronunciation. The ‘Armstrongs’ were a great Border clan. Mr. Lower reminds me of the following lines:—
Ye need not go to Liddisdale,