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 same 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 Moses 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 the 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 ‘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,’ and ‘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,’ ‘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,’ ‘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.