And Gryfin the Walshe.
In these, of course, we at once discern the progenitors of our ‘Welshs’ and ‘Wallaces.’ ‘Walshman’ is also found as ‘Walseman.’ ‘Langlois’ seems to be firmly established in our present midst as an importation from France. It was evidently returned to us all but contemporaneously with its rise there, for as ‘L’Angleys’ or ‘Lengleyse,’ it is found on English soil in the thirteenth century. It is quite possible that our ‘Langleys’ are in some instances but a corruption of this name. Thus the different quarters of the British Empire are well personified so far as our directories are concerned.
We have not quite done with the home country, however. Our modern ‘Norris’s’ are of a somewhat comprehensive nature. In the first place there can be little doubt they have become confounded by lapse of time with the once not unfamiliar ‘la Noryce,’ or nurse. Apart from this, too, the term ‘le Noreys’ was ever applied in early times to the Norwegians, and to this sense mainly it is that we owe the rise of the name. And yet it has another origin. It was used in the mere sense of ‘northern,’ one from the North-country. Thus in the Hundred Rolls we meet with the two names of ‘Thomas le Noreys’ and ‘Geoffrey le Northern,’ and there is no reason why these should not both have had the same rise. A proof in favour of this view lies in the fact that we have their counterparts in such entries as ‘Thomas le Surreys’ and ‘Thomas le Southern,’ the latter now found in the other forms of ‘Sothern’ and ‘Sotheran.’ Nor are the other points of the compass wanting. A ‘Richard le Westrys’ and a ‘Richard le Estrys’ both occur in the registers of the thirteenth century, but neither, I believe, now exists. ‘North’ found as ‘de North’ needs no explanation, and the same can be said for our ‘Souths,’ ‘Easts,’ and ‘Wests.’
The distance from Dover to Calais is not great; but were it otherwise, we should still feel bound in our notice of names of foreign introduction first of all to mention Normandy. For not merely has this country supplied us with many of our best family names, but it enjoys the distinction of having been the first to establish an hereditary surname. This it did in the case of the barons and their feudary settlements. The close of the eleventh century we may safely say saw as yet but one class of sobriquets, which, together with their other property, fathers were in the habit of handing down to their sons. This class was local, and was attached only to those followers of the Conqueror who had been presented by their leader with landed estates in the country they had but recently subdued. As a rule each of these feudatories took as his surname the place whence he had set forth in his Norman home. Thus arose so many of our sobriquets of which ‘Burke’s Peerage’ is the best directory, and of which therefore I have little to say here. Thus arose the ‘de Mortimers’ (the prefix was retained for many generations by all), the ‘de Colevilles,’ the ‘de Corbets,’ the ‘de Ferrers,’ the ‘de Beauchamps,’ the ‘de Courcys,’ the ‘de Lucys,’ and the ‘de Granvilles.’ Thus have sprung our ‘Harcourts,’ our Tankervilles,’ our ‘Nevilles,’ our ‘Bovilles,’ our Baskervilles,’ our ‘Lascelles,’ our ‘Beaumonts,’ our ‘Villiers,’ our ‘Mohuns,’ and our ‘Percys.’ Apropos of Granville, a story is told of a former Lord Lyttelton contesting with the head of that stock priority of family, and clenching his argument by asserting his to be necessarily the most ancient, inasmuch as the littletown must have existed before the grand-ville. A similar dispute is said to have occurred at Venice between the families ‘Ponti’ and ‘Canali’—the one asserting that the ‘Bridges’ were above the ‘Canals,’ the other that the ‘Canals’ were in existence before the ‘Bridges.’ So hot waxed the quarrel that the Senate was compelled to remind the disputants that it had power alike to stop up Canals and pull down Bridges if they became over troublesome. But to return: the number of these Norman names was great. The muster-roll of William’s army comprised but an item of the foreign incomers. As the tide of after-immigration set in, there was no town, however insignificant, in Normandy, or in the Duchies of Anjou and Maine, which was not soon represented in the nomenclature of the land. From giving even a partial list of these I must refrain, however tempted, but see what the chapelries alone did for us. St. Denys gave us our ‘Sidneys,’ St. Clair, or Clare, our ‘Sinclairs,’ vilely corrupted at times into ‘Sinkler;’ St. Paul, our ‘Semples,’ ‘Samples,’ ‘Sempills,’ ‘Simpoles,’ and sometimes ‘Simples;’ St. Lowe, or Loe, our ‘Sallows;’ St. Amand, our ‘Sandemans’ and ‘Samands;’ St. Lis, our ‘Senlis’ and ‘Senleys;’ St. Saviour, our ‘Sissivers;’ St. Maur, our ‘Seymours;’ St. Barbe, our ‘Symbarbes;’ St. Hillary, our ‘Sillerys;’ St. Pierre, our ‘Sempers’ and ‘Simpers;’ St. Austin, our ‘Sustins;’ St. Omer, our ‘Somers;’ St. Leger, our ‘Sellingers,’ once more literally enrolled as ‘Steleger,’ and so on with our less corrupted ‘St. Johns,’ ‘St. Georges,’ and others. I do not say, however, that all these were later comers. Some of them must undoubtedly be set among the earlier comrades in arms of the Conqueror. Indeed it is impossible in every case to separate the warlike from the peaceful invasion. Looking back from this distant period, and with but scanty and imperfect memorials for guidance, it cannot but be so.
With respect to another class of these Norman names, however, we are more certain. Their very formation seems to imply beyond a doubt that they had a settlement as surnames in their own arrondissements before their arrival on English soil. We may, therefore, with tolerable certainty set them down as later comers. The distinguishing marks of these are the prefixes ‘de la,’ or ‘del,’ or ‘du’ attached to them. Thus from some local peculiarity with respect to their early homes would arise such names as ‘Delamere,’ ‘Dupont,’ ‘Delisle,’ ‘Delarue,’ ‘Dubois,’ ‘Ducatel,’ ‘Defontaine,’ ‘Decroix,’ or ‘Deville’ or ‘Deyville.’ This latter is now found also in the somewhat unpleasant form of ‘Devil.’ They say the devil is the source of every evil. Whether this extends beyond the moral world may be open to doubt, but our ‘Evils,’ ‘Evills,’ and ‘Eyvilles,’ from the fact of their once being written with the prefix ‘de,’ seem to favour the suspicion of there being a somewhat dangerous relationship between them.[[134]] These names, though commonly met with in mediæval records, are, nevertheless, I say, not to be put down as coeval with the Conquest, but as after-introductions when England was securely won. There befell Norman names of this class, however, what I have shown still more commonly to have befallen those of a similar, but more Saxon, category. If these prefixes ‘de la,’ ‘del,’ and ‘du’ are sometimes found retained, they are as often conspicuous by their absence. Thus while at an early date after the Conquest we find the Saxon ‘Atwood’ met by the Norman ‘Dubois,’ it is equally true that they had already to battle with simple ‘Wood’ and ‘Boys’ or ‘Boyce.’ Thus it was we find so early the Saxon ‘Beech’ faced by the Norman ‘Fail’ or ‘Fayle,’ ‘Ash’ by ‘Freen,’ ‘Frean,’ or ‘Freyne,’ ‘Hasell’ by ‘Coudray,’ ‘Alder’ by ‘Aunay,’ and, let us say, for want of a ‘Walnut,’ ‘Nut’ by ‘Noyes.’ In the same way our ‘Halls’ or ‘Hales’ were matched by ‘Meynell’ (mesnil), ‘Hill’ by ‘Montaigne,’ now also ‘Mountain,’ ‘Mead’ or ‘Medd,’ or ‘Field,’ by ‘Prall’ or ‘Prail,’ relics of the old ‘prayell,’ a little meadow. I have just set ‘Wood’ by our ‘Boys’ and ‘Boyces.’ To these we must add our ‘Busks,’ ‘Bushes,’ ‘Busses,’ all from ‘bois’ or ‘bosc.’ The ‘taillis,’ or underwood, too, gives us ‘Tallis,’ and the union of both in ‘Taillebois’ or ‘Talboys,’ as we now have it, combines the names of two of our best church musicians—‘Tallis’ and ‘Boyce.’ This comparison of early introduced Norman with names of a Saxon local character we might carry on to any extent, but this must suffice—illustrations and not categories are all we can pretend to attempt.
But these were not our only foreign introduced names. Coeval with the arrival of these later Norman designations a remarkable peculiarity began to make itself apparent in the vast number of names that poured in from various and more distant parts of the Continent. That they came for purposes of trade, and to settle down into positions that the Saxons themselves should have occupied, is undoubted. The lethargy of the Saxon population at this period would be extraordinary, if it were not so easily to be accounted for. There was no heart in the nation. The Saxons had become a conquered people, and, although the spirit of Hereward the Wake was quenched, there had come that settled sullen humour which, finding no outlet for active enmity, fed in spirit upon itself, and increased with the pampering. To punish open disaffection is easy; to eradicate by the stern arm of power such a feeling as this is impossible. Time alone can do it, and that but slowly. More than a century after this we find Robin Hood the idol of popular sympathy; no national hero has ever eclipsed him, and yet, putting sentiment aside, he was naught but a robber, an outlawed knave. He was but a vent for the still lingering current of a people’s feelings. It was but the Saxon and Norman over again.
We can easily imagine, then, if the spirit of the people was so lethargic as this, at how low an ebb would be the commercial enterprise of this period. No country was there whose resources for self-aggrandisement were greater than our own—none which had more disregarded them up to the reign of the third Edward. Till then she was the mere mine from which other countries might draw forth riches, the carcase for the eagles of many nations to feed upon. Saving the exportation of wool in its raw unmanufactured state, she did nothing for her national prosperity. The Dutch cured the fish they themselves caught on our coasts, and the looms of Flanders and Brabant manufactured the weft and warp we sent them into the cloth we wore. If our kings and barons were clad in scarlet and purple, little had England actively to do with that; her share in such superior tints was nought, save the production of the dye, for in conjunction with the Eastern indigo it was our woad the Netherlands used. That other nations were advancing, and that ours was not, is a statement, commercially speaking, I need not enlarge upon; it is a mere matter of history which no one disputes.
Not, however, that there was no trade. Far from it. Long before Edward III. had established a surer basis of order and industry, London had become a mart of no small Continental importance. This outlying city, as with other towns of growing industry abroad, had come under the beneficial influence of the Crusades. So far as the redemption of the Holy City was concerned, that strong, but noble madness which had set Christendom ablaze was a failure. But it effected much in another way. From the first moment when on the waters of the Levant were assembled a host as diverse in nation as they were one in purpose; when in their high-decked galleons and oar-banked pinnances men met each other face to face of whose national existence they had been previously all but unaware—one result, at least, was sure to follow—an intercommunion of nations was inevitable, and, in the wake of this, other and not less beneficial consequences. Healthy comparisons were drawn, jealousies were allayed, navigation was improved, better ships were built, harbours hitherto avoided as dangerous were rendered safe, and new havens were discovered. This influence was felt everywhere. It reached so far as England—London felt it.
But it was a minor influence—minor in comparison with our wonderful appliances—minor in comparison with the commercial spirit developing such Republics as Genoa and Venice, or the Easterling countries that border the Baltic and German Seas—a minor influence, too, especially because the Saxons had so little share in it. So far as they were concerned, this internationality was all one-sided. Denizens of all lands visited our shores, but their visits were unreturned. What an infinitesimal part of our Continental surnames in the present day are traceable to English sources. On the other hand, there was no town however small, no hamlet however insignificant, in Normandy, in the Duchies of Anjou and Maine, or protected by the cities of the Hanseatic League, that is unrepresented in the nomenclature of our land. Nay, it was this very lack of reciprocity of commerce that held out such inducements to the dwellers in other lands to visit our shores. It was to step into possession of those very advantages we slighted they came: we became but a colony of foreign artisans. Truly our metropolis in those early days of her industry was a motley community. Numerous names of foreign locality have died out in the lapse of centuries between; a large proportion have become so Anglicized that we cannot detect their Continental birth, but there is still a formidable array left in our midst whose lineage is manifest, and whose nationality is not to be doubted. We dare not enumerate them all. Let us, however, take a short tour over Europe and the East. We will begin with Normandy, and advance westerly, and then southerly. The provinces that border upon Normandy and Bretagne, especially to the south and eastwards, large or small, have, as we should expect, supplied us with many names. We have besides ‘Norman,’ which, like ‘le Northern,’ is of doubtful locality, ‘Bret,’ ‘Brett,’ ‘Britt,’ ‘Britten,’ ‘Briton,’ and ‘Brittain,’ from ‘Bretagne,’ and represented in our olden rolls by such men as ‘Hamo le Bret,’ or ‘Roger le Breton,’ or ‘Thomas le Brit,’ or ‘Ivo le Briton.’ Our ‘Angers’ are not necessarily so irascible as they look, for they are but corruptions, as are ‘Angwin’ and ‘Aungier,’ of the ‘Angevine of Anjou.’ Like our ‘Maines’ and ‘Maynes’ from the neighbouring duchy, they would be likely visitors to our shores from the intimate relationship which for a while endured between the two countries through royal alliances. Our ‘Arters’ and ‘Artis,’ once registered ‘de Artoys,’ came from ‘Artois;’ our ‘Gaskins,’ and more correct ‘Gascoignes,’ from ‘Gascony;’ and our ‘Burgons’ and ‘Burgoynes’ from Burgundy.[[135]] To Champagne it is we are indebted for our ‘Champneys’ and ‘Champness’s,’ descendants as they are from such old incomers as ‘Robert le Champeneis,’ or ‘Roger le Chaumpeneys,’ while the more strictly local form appears in our ‘Champagnes,’ not to say some of our ‘Champions’ and ‘Campions.’[[136]] Speaking of Champagne, it is curious that next in topographical order come our ‘Port-wines,’ sprung from the Poictevine of Poictou. So early as the thirteenth century, this name had become corrupted into ‘Potewyne,’ a ‘Pretiosa Potewyne’ occurring in the Hundred Rolls of that period. More correct representatives are found in such entries as ‘Henry le Poytevin,’ and ‘Peter le Pettevin.’ Pickardy has given us our ‘Pickards’ and ‘Pycards,’ Provence our ‘Provinces,’ and Lorraine our ‘Loraynes,’ ‘Lorraines,’ and ‘Lorings.’ ‘Peter le Loring’ and ‘John le Loring’ are instances of the latter form. More general terms for the countrymen of these various provinces are found in such registered names as ‘Gilbert le Fraunceis,’ or ‘Henry le Franceis,’ or ‘Peter le Frensh,’ or ‘Gyllaume Freynsman.’
I have mentioned ‘Norman’—one of the commonest of early sobriquets is ‘le Bigod’ and ‘le Bigot.’ Well-nigh every record has its ‘Roger le Bygod,’ or its ‘William le Bygot,’ or ‘Hugh le Bigot,’ or ‘Alina le Bigod.’ Amid the varying opinions of so many high authorities, I dare not speak in anywise with confidence; but, judging from these very entries which are found at an early period, I cannot but think Dean Trench and Mr. Wedgwood wrong in their conjecture that the word arose from the ‘beguines’—i.e. the Franciscans. With Mr. Taylor[[137]] I am firmly convinced it is ethnic, and that as such it was familiarly applied to the Normans I am equally satisfied. In proof of its national character, Mr. Taylor quotes a passage from the romance of Gerard of Roussillon—