(Bleak House, ch. iv.)
Bardsley first drew attention to the very large number of surnames derived from an ancestress. His views have been subjected to much ignorant criticism by writers who, taking upon themselves the task of defending medieval virtue, have been unwilling to accept this terrible picture of the moral condition of England, etc. This anxiety is misplaced. There are many reasons, besides illegitimacy, for the adoption of the mother's name. In medieval times the children of a widow, especially posthumous children, would often assume the mother's name. Widdowson itself is sufficiently common. In the case of second marriages the two families might sometimes be distinguished by their mothers' names. Orphans would be adopted by female relatives, and a medieval Mrs. Joe Gargery would probably have impressed her own name rather than that of her husband on a medieval Pip. In a village which counted two Johns or Williams, and few villages did not, the children of one might assume, or rather would be given by the public voice, the mother's name. Finally, metronymics can be collected in hundreds by anyone who cares to work through a few early registers.
Thus, in the Lancashire Inquests 205-1307 occur plenty of people described as the sons of Alice, Beatrice, Christiana, Eda, Eva, Mariot, Matilda, Quenilda, [Footnote: An Anglo-Saxon name, Cynehild, whence Quennell.] Sibilla, Ysolt. Even if illegitimacy were the only reason, that would not concern the philologist.
Female names undergo the same course of treatment as male names. Mary gave the diminutives Marion and Mariot, whence Marriott. It was popularly shortened into Mal (cf. Hal for Harry), which had the diminutive Mally. From these we have Mawson and Malleson, the former also belonging to Maud. Mal and Mally became Mol and Molly, hence Mollison. The rimed forms Pol, Polly are later, and names in Pol- usually belong to Paul (Chapter IX). The name Morris has three other origins (the font-name Maurice, the nickname Moorish, and the local marsh), but both Morris and Morrison are sometimes to be referred to Mary. Similarly Margaret, popularly Mar-get, became Mag, Meg, Mog, whence Meggitt, Moxon, etc. The rarity of Maggot is easily understood, but Poll Maggot was one of Jack Sheppard's accomplices and Shakespeare uses maggot-pie for magpie (Macbeth, iii, 4). Meg was rimed into Peg, whence Peggs, Mog into Pog, whence Pogson, and Madge into Padge, whence Padgett, when this is not for Patchett (Chapter IX), or for the Fr. Paget, usually explained as Smallpage. The royal name Matilda appears in the contracted Maud, Mould, Moule, Mott, Mahood (Old Fr. Maheut). Its middle syllable Till gave Tilly, Tillson and the dim. Tillet, Tillot, whence Tillotson. From Beatrice we have Bee, Beaton and Betts, and the northern Beattie, which are not connected with the great name Elizabeth. This is in medieval rolls represented by its cognate Isabel, of which the shortened form was Bell (Chapter I), or Ib, the latter giving Ibbot, Ibbotson, and the rimed forms Tib-, Nib-, Bib-, Lib-. Here also belong Ebbs and Epps rather than to the Anglo-Sax. Ebba (Chapter VII).
Many names which would now sound somewhat ambitious were common among the medieval peasantry and are still found in the outlying parts of England, especially Devon and Cornwall. Among the characters in Mr. Eden Phillpotts's Widecombe Fair are two sisters named Sibley and Petronell. From Sibilla, now Sibyl, come most names in Sib-, though this was used also as a dim. of Sebastian (see also Chapter VII), while Petronilla, has given Parnell, Purnell. As a female name it suffered the eclipse to which certain names are accidentally subject, and became equivalent to wench. References to a "prattling Parnel" are common in old writers, and the same fate overtook it in French—
"Taisez-vous, péronnelle" (Tartufe, i. 1).
Mention has already been made of the survival of Guinevere (Chapter VIII). From Cassandra we have Cash, Cass, Case, and Casson, from Idonia, Ide, Iddins, Iddison; these were no doubt confused with the derivatives of Ida. William filius Idae is in the Fine Rolls of John's reign, and John Idonyesone occurs there, temp. Edward I. Pim, as a female font-name, may be from Euphemia, and Siddons appears to belong to Sidonia, while the pretty name Avice appears as Avis and Haweis. From Lettice, Lat. laetitia, joy, we have Letts, Lettson, while the corresponding Joyce, Lat. jocosa, merry, has become confused with Fr. Josse (Chapter I). Anstey, Antis, is from Anastasia, Precious from Preciosa, and Royce from Rohesia.
It is often difficult to separate patronymics from metronymics. We have already seen (Chapter VI) that names in Ed- may be from Eda or from Edward, while names in Gil- must be shared between Julian, Juliana, Guillaume, Gilbert, and Giles. There are many other cases like Julian and Juliana, e.g. Custance is for Constance, but Cust may also represent the masculine Constant, while among the derivatives of Philip we must not forget the warlike Philippa. Or, to take pairs which are unrelated, Kitson may be from Christopher or from Catherine, and Mattison from Matthew or from Martha, which became Matty and Patty, the derivatives of the latter coalescing with those of Patrick (Chapter VI). It is obvious that the derivatives of Alice would be confused with those of Allen, while names in El- may represent Elias or Eleanor. Also names in Al- and El- are sometimes themselves confused, e.g. the Anglo-Saxon AElfgod appears both as Allgood and Elgood. More Nelsons are derived from Neil, i.e. Nigel, than from Nell, the rimed dim. of Ellen. Emmett is a dim. of Emma, but Empson may be a shortened Emerson from Emery (Chapter VIII). The rather commonplace Tibbles stands for both Theobald and Isabella, and the same is true of all names in Tib- and some in Teb-. Lastly, the coalescence of John, the commonest English font-name, with Joan, the earlier form of Jane, was inevitable, while the French forms Jean and Jeanne would be undistinguishable in their derivatives. These names between them have given an immense number of surnames, the masculine or feminine interpretation of which must be left to the reader's imagination.