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Archive for the ‘Medieval Names’ Category

The Story of an English Manor

Posted in Baby Names, Historical Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Medieval Names, Names, Popularity, Fashion and Style, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 19, 2012 | 4 Comments »

On our holiday last week we stayed at historic Gurney Manor — sometimes called Gurney Street Manor — in Cannington, Somerset.

It is a very special place.

Rescued by the Landmark Trust in the 1980s, much of the fabric dates to before 1400, with substantial additions in the mid-to-late fifteenth century.

Because it largely came down in the world after the seventeenth century, many of its ancient features, including the fifteenth century covered passage across the inner courtyard linking the old kitchen to the hall, have survived.

Unsurprisingly, it proved quite a good hunting ground for names, which are almost text-book examples of the typical names through the centuries, demonstrating fluctuations in fashion both generally, and across the social spectrum.

The original owners — and the family who gave their name to the manor — were a branch of the baronial family of Gurney, the founder of which came to England with William the Conqueror. Only a few names are known from this earliest period, emerging from the fog of remote history; a RICHARD de Gurney, flourished in 1243, when he put in a claim on the mill, then in possession of his “kinsman” WILLIAM, son of PHILIP.

Richard had a son called ROBERT.

By the end of the thirteenth century, the property appears to have been owned by JOHN de Gurney, who was alive in 1327.

The last of the line at Gurney Manor, and probably the one responsible for much of the parts of the hall dating to the late fourteenth and early fifteenth century, was HUGH, who succeeded to the estate in 1358. Either he, or a son of the same name, was there in 1401, with a wife called BEATRICE.

He had no son, and so the manor passed to his daughter JANE — an unusual name at the time, when the usually feminine form of John was Joan. She married ROGER Dodesham.

Responsible for most of the fifteenth century additions was their son, another WILLIAM, who was a lawyer as well as a landowner.

William had sisters called JOAN and ELEANOR, and on his death in 1480, the Gurney Street Manor passed in trust to Joan’s daughter, AGNES, wife of WALTER Michell, who died in 1487. Agnes and Walter had three sons, who each succeeded in turn, WILLIAM, JOHN, and THOMAS.

Thomas, whose wife was called MARGARET, died in 1503, when the manor passed to his son, another THOMAS. He also had a daughter called ISABEL.

Thomas made a number of improvements and refinements to the house, adding fine windows and new chimneys — but it all came to an abrupt end on December 13, 1539, when he murdered his wife JOAN and sister-in-law ELEANOR, seemingly at Gurney Manor, before killing himself.

He had two known children, another JANE, and another RICHARD.

Richard, who married an ELIZABETH, died in 1563, leaving the manor to his son, TRISTRAM.

Tristram, meanwhile, died in 1574, when the manor passed to his brother, Sir BARTHOLOMEW.

On Bartholomew’s death in 1616, his lands were split between his daughters, JANE and FRANCES. Gurney passed to Jane, wife of WILLIAM Hockmore.

William had considerable property elsewhere, and Gurney’s owners no longer lived there; the house and its acres was let to tenants, so that by the late nineteenth century, it was regarded as just a (large) farmhouse.

The names of most of these tenants is lost, but we still know the names of the house’s owners, and their families.

Jane and William Hockmore, for instance, had six children, SUSANNAH, GREGORY, CHARLES, WILLIAM, FRANCES and RICHARD, not all of whom lived to adulthood.

Gregory, married to MARY, inherited in 1626, dying in 1653, when the estate passed to his son, also called GREGORY (he also had a daughter called JANE).

Gregory II, married to HONOR, also had two children, a son WILLIAM, and, quelle surprise, yet another JANE.

William, who inherted sometime between 1676 and 1680, married another MARY, and had three daughters, MARY, JANE and HONORA; only Honora survived to adulthood, becoming William’s heiress on his death in 1707-08.

She married DAVIDGE Gould (his mother’s maiden name was Davidge) around 1713, and had five children who survived to adulthood: Sir HENRY (d.1794), RICHARD (d.1793), HONORA (d.1802), WILLIAM (d.1799) and THOMAS (d.1808).

Henry, married ELIZABETH, and had two daughters, another ELIZABETH, and HONORA MARGARETTA. Elizabeth married TEMPLE Luttrell; Honora Margaretta, who died in 1813, married General RICHARD Lambart, 7th Earl of Cavan.

And Gurney passed through her to the Earls of Cavan.

(Temple Luttrell was an interesting character; an MP, he was reputedly also a smuggler, and built a folly, called Luttrell’s Tower, at Eaglehurst near Southampton. On his death in Paris in 1803, Luttrell’s Tower passed to the Earl of Cavan too. By pure coincidence, Luttrell’s Tower is also now owned by the Landmark Trust.)

Richard and Honora Margaretta had five children:

  • RICHARD HENRY ROBERT GILBERT (1783-85)
  • HONORA ELIZABETH HESTER (1784-1856)
  • ALICIA MARGARETTA HOCKMORE (1785-1818)
  • SOPHIA AUGUSTA (1787-98)
  • RICHARD HENRY (b. and d. 1788)
  • GEORGE FREDERICK AUGUSTUS (1789-1828)
  • EDWARD HENRY WENTWORTH VILLIERS (1791-1812)

George, who died before his father, married the simply named SARAH, and had five children:

  • HENRIETTA AUGUSTA (d. 1874)
  • ALICIA (d.1913)
  • JULIA (d.1897)
  • FREDERICK JOHN WILLIAM (1815-87)
  • OLIVER GEORGE (1822-98)

Frederick John William’s wife was CAROLINE AUGUSTA, and they also had five children:

  • MARY HYACINTHE (d.1933)
  • SARAH SOPHIA (d.1914)
  • FREDERICK EDWARD GOULD (1839-1900)
  • OCTAVIUS HENRY (1855-1919)
  • ARTHUR (1858-1937)

Frederick Edward Gould’s wife was MARY SNEADE (Sneade was her middle name — her surname was Olive), and their children:

  • FREDERICK RUDOLPH (1865-1946)
  • ELLEN OLIVE (1867-1945)
  • MAUD EDITH GUNDREDA (1869-1940)
  • LIONEL JOHN OLIVE (1873-1940)
  • HORACE EDWARD SAMUEL SNEADE (1878-1950).

Frederick Rudolph had no children by his first wife CAROLINE INEZ; by his second wife, HESTER JOAN, he had two daughters; the first, ELIZABETH MARY was born in 1924.

The following year, Gurney was sold to its tenants of more than thirty years, the Bucknells, and with it an unbroken line of descent, if not of inhabitation, of at least eight hundred years, was finally severed.

The Bucknells were a thoroughly English Victorian middle class family; the father, a classic “gentleman farmer” was a solid and respectable JAMES, his wife an equally establishment MARY ANN. One daughter was ELIZA HARRIS, the other, OLIVE MARY (possibly named in honor of the Countess of Cavan), and they also had a son, BENJAMIN JOHN.

In 1901, there were also three servants living with them at the manor: FRANK, EMILY and MABEL.

Gurney’s time once more owned by its inhabitants was short-lived; the Bucknells sold in 1934, and by the 1940s it had been subdivided into flats. By the 1980s, it was in a sorry, neglected state, with most of the flats empty, but then the Landmark Trust bought it, and the rest is (more!) history…

No-one lives there for more than three weeks at a time anymore, but it has been fully restored to its medieval glory and I think the place rather likes the variety of ever changing faces coming and going, and basks in their rapt admiration.

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Surnames as First Names: English Surnames — E

Posted in Alternative Names, Baby Names, Druid Names, Heathen Names, Historical Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Magical Names, Medieval Names, Names, New Age Names, Pagan Names, Pagan-friendly, Surnames as First Names, Unisex Names, Unusual Names, Wiccan Names, Witch Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 16, 2011 | 6 Comments »

Esgar

More gems among the surnames of English, Anglo-Norman and Norse origin, which have so far seen little use as given names. Today is E.

  • Ede — from the Old English girl’s name Eda from ēad ‘rich’, a name in its own right in the early Anglo-Saxon period, although later it was used more as a short form of Edith.
  • Eaglen — from the Norman-French Egelina, the feminine of Egil, an ancient Germanic name of uncertain meaning.
  • Eames — from Old English ēam ‘uncle’.
  • Easterby — from the Old Norse áustr í bý meaning ‘east of the village’.
  • Eastley – from Old English ēast ‘east’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Edbrough — from the Old English girl’s name Edburg; ēad ‘rich’ + burh ‘fortified place’.
  • Edis – from the Old English girl’s name Edusa, a name of uncertain meaning, but probably a short form of Eadgifu or Edith. Var: Eddis.
  • Edney, Edoney — from the Old Norse name Idhunna ‘love-work’, the name of the Goddess of Youth. Var: Idony.
  • Effemy — from Euphemia, a Greek name meaning ‘auspicious speech’. Also Effeny and Effeney.
  • Elberry — from Elberry, Devon. Probably Old English elle(n) ‘elder’ + burh ‘fortified place’.
  • Elion — from Helléan in Brittany, a place of uncertain meaning, possibly connected with Breton huel ‘high’ or Middle Breton haelon ‘brows’.
  • Ellerby — from Ellerby. Old English personal name  Ælfweard ‘elf-guard’ + Old Norse bý ‘farmstead’, ‘village’ and ‘settlement’. Var: Ellaby.
  • Ellery — from the personal names Hilary (originally a male name). Latin hilaris ‘cheerful’ and Eularia, a form of Eulalia, a Greek name meaning ‘sweetly-speaking’.
  • Elmley — from one of the places of the name. Old English elm ‘elm’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Elver — from the Old English personal name  Ælfhere – ælf ‘elf’ + here ‘army’.
  • Elvery — from the Old English personal name Æthelfrið — æthel ‘noble’ + frið ‘peace’.
  • Elvey, Elvy – from the Old English girl’s name Ælfgifu ‘elf-gift’.
  • Embra — probably from Emborough, Somerset. Old English emm ‘flat-topped’ + beorg ‘mound’ and ‘hill’. It may also be a variant of Amery.
  • Emeney, Emmony — from Ismenia, a medieval name of uncertain origins.
  • Emley — from Emley, Yorkshire. Old English personal name Em(m)a (probably here a male name) + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Ensor — from Edensor, Derbyshire (home to the famous Chatsworth House). Old English personal name Eadin (from ēad ‘rich’) + ofer ‘sloping bank’ and ‘ridge’.
  • Esgar, Esger — from the Old Norse name Ásgeirr ‘(a) God-spear’.
  • Eveleigh – from a lost village called Eveleigh in Devon. Old English male personal name Eafa or Eofa + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’. Eafa/Eofa are short forms of names beginning with eofor ‘boar’.
  • Everley — from Everley, Yorkshire. Old English eofor ‘boar’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Eversley — from Eversley, Kent. Old English eofor ‘boar’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.

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Nook of Names Pick of the Week — Una

Posted in Alternative Names, Ancient Paganism, Baby Names, Celtic Names, Christianity, Druid Names, Heathen Names, Historical Names, Irish Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Magical Names, Medieval Names, Names, New Age Names, Pagan Names, Pagan-friendly, Paganism, Unusual Names, Wiccan Names, Witch Names, tagged , , , , , , , on August 14, 2011 | 5 Comments »

‘Number names’ seem to be a bit of an in thing at the moment, what with the recent celebrity arrivals, Harper Seven Beckham and Aleph Portman-Millepied. So this weeks Nook of Names Pick of the Week is a variation on the theme… or is it?

There is no denying that una is the feminine form of the Latin unus ‘one’ — both unus and one derive from the same Proto-Indo-European source, along with the German ein(e), Greek enas, Old Irish óen and Welsh un.

Unus also means ‘a single’ and ‘alone’.

As a name, this Una (traditionally pronounced ‘YOO-nuh’) first appears in Edmund Spenser’s epic allegorical masterpiece The Faerie Queene — written in the late 16th Century in praise of Queen Elizabeth I.

Una — essentially ‘the One and Only’ — stands for the Protestant Church of Queen Elizabeth I.  This is, of course — as far as Spenser is concerned — Good and True (in stark contrast with Elizabeth’s predecessor Queen Mary, and her Catholic Church, represented by the character of Duessa).

The Faerie Queene, even though it was never finished, was extremely influential, and bona fide examples of Una as a genuine given name in England date from the early 17th Century.

But this Latin Una is not the only Una of the British Isles. There is another, with an even older pedigree, over the Celtic Sea — Irish Úna.

This Una — pronounced ‘OO-nuh’, and sometimes Anglicized as Oona or Oonagh — is a name from Irish mythology. One Una was, ironically enough, a fairy queen — the wife of Finnbarr.

The best known, however, was a wife of Finn McCool. It was she who saved the day with her cunning when the Scottish giant Bennandonner crossed the Giant’s Causeway (which Finn had built) to fight Finn.

Una concocted a plan to trick Bennandonner into thinking Finn was far bigger, stronger and ‘more giant’ than Bennandonner. She dressed Finn up to look like a baby — and told Bennandonner that this enormous baby was Finn’s child.

This spooked Bennandonner enough, but while he waited for Finn to come home, Una gave him and the ‘baby’ an enormous steak to eat. The scary baby managed fine — but Bennandonner couldn’t eat a mouthful — the reason? The ‘baby’ had a real steak, but Una gave Bennandonner a rock painted to look like one.

This was all too much for Bennandonner, and he hot-footed it back to Scotland, tearing up the Causeway as he went.

In Modern Irish, úna actually means ‘famine’, but Úna is generally thought to have derived from the Old Irish uan ‘lamb’, and as well as appearing in myth, Úna was used as a genuine given name in medieval Ireland.

After the 17th Century, Irish names were usually ‘translated’ into English names — chosen sometimes by meaning, and sometimes by resemblance.

Thus Úna was turned into the English Agnes, due to the shared ‘lamb’ theme — for although Agnes does not derive from the Latin agnus ‘lamb’, its similarity meant that it was strongly associated with the fluffy creatures.

Others used were Winnie and Juno, because of their similarity in appearance and sound.

Although it is difficult to tell whether the Latin or Irish Una is being used, Una, Oona and Oonagh are all found in the 19th Century — and not just in Ireland.

None is seeing much use at the moment. In the UK, Una was nowhere near the top 1000 in 2010, while Oona and Oonagh languished below the 2000s.

Una is similarly scarce in the US, where in 2010, the Latin Una was found more frequently spelled phonetically as Yuna. There were also a few examples of Yoona.

Oona is extremely rare, and Oonagh doesn’t feature at all.

Una also has some interesting meanings in other languages. In Italian and Spanish, una is the feminine indefinite pronoun – i.e. ‘a’ – as well as ‘one’, just like in Latin.

In the South American language Tupi, una means ‘black’, and features in the name of the mythical South American snake the boyuna ‘black snake’, while in Old Norse, una means ‘to dwell contentedly’, ‘to enjoy’, ‘to rejoice’ and ‘to be content with (one’s lot)’.

There are various rivers and towns around the world called Una too, such as the Una River in Croatia, and Una in Gujurat, India. There’s even a genus of butterfly called Una.

So if you’re thinking Luna, but worried it’s too Harry Potter, why not consider the lovely, lonely Una instead?

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Sneak Peek Week II — Oliver

Posted in Baby Names, Druid Names, Fiction, Fruit, Heathen Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Medieval Names, Nature, Pagan Names, Pagan-friendly, Plants and Trees, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 8, 2011 | 6 Comments »

The paladin Oliver features in the French medieval epic the Song of Roland

Beginning Sneak Peek II is Oliver — the most popular boy’s name in the UK  for the 2nd year running in 2010, but only 88th in the US (though climbing quickly).

Oliver ♂

Oliver is usually derived from the Old French: olivier < Latin: olivarus ‘an olive tree’, but it is quite likely that its real ‘roots’ lie with OLAF. It was the name of one of the paladins (chief warriors) of Charlemagne, and was popular in medieval France and England. Diminutives: Ollie, Olly; Noll (historical). Bearers: Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), Lord Protector of Britain during the Commonwealth; Oliver Goldsmith (1730-74), the Anglo-Irish playwright; Oliver Reed (1938-99), the British actor; Oliver Stone (b.1945), the US film director; Oliver Twist, eponymous hero Dickens’ novel of 1838; Oliver Haddo in Somerset Maugham’s The Magician (1908) – the character was modeled on Aleister Crowley, and Crowley himself used it as a pseudonym in a piece accusing Maugham of plagiarism.

Olaf ♂

The modern form of the Old Norse: Óleifr and Anleifr – ano ‘ancestor’ + leifr ‘relics’. It was a very popular Norse name, borne by six kings of Norway. Scots Gaelic: Amhladh – Anglicized as AULAY; Irish Gaelic: Amhlaoibh – Anglicized as Auliffe.

Olive ♀

The olive has been cultivated for thousands of years for its fruit and the oil produced from it, which has been used for cooking, lighting and the cleansing of the skin since ancient times. According to Greek mythology, the olive was the gift of Athene to Athens, sprouting from her staff which she plunged into the Earth on the Acropolis. The olive was also associated with Olympia, where the victors’ crowns in its famous games were woven of olive leaves. Brides in Greece wore a chaplet of olive leaves – as such it was a symbol of both chastity and fertility. It has also long been a symbol of peace. It is ruled by the Sun and Fire. Latin: oliva ‘olive’, ‘olive tree’ and ‘olive branch’. Oliva was the name of an early and obscure Roman saint, and was adopted as a girl’s name in the Middle Ages. This became Oliff and Olive in the vernacular. It was re-embraced enthusiastically in the late 19th Century, along with other names of flowers and shrubs. Bearers: Olive Shreiner (1855-1920), the South African feminist, pacifist and writer, best known for The Story of an African Farm (1883). Olive (1850) was a novel by Dinah Craik.

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Nook of Names Pick of the Week — Guinevere

Posted in Pagan Names, Wiccan Names, Druid Names, Heathen Names, Witch Names, Magical Names, Unusual Names, Celtic Names, Welsh Names, Irish Names, Cornish Names, Ancient Paganism, Alternative Names, New Age Names, Names, Baby Names, Medieval Names, Historical Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 31, 2011 | 7 Comments »


There are few names more evocative of medieval romance than Guinevere, the Celtic queen, caught up in probably the most famous love triangle of all time — Guinevere, King Arthur, and Sir Lancelot.

The enduringly popular story of King Arthur and Guinevere has been retold countless times for a thousand years or more, most recently in the TV series Camelot.

What the truth is behind the legends is a question which has occupied historians, archaeologists and folklorists alike for hundreds of years.

Guinevere is the now classic form of the legendary queen’s name, as used by Alfred, Lord Tennyson in the Idylls of the King, but there are many others.

Probably the next most seen is Guenevere,  used in a number of versions, including Rosalind Miles’ Guenevere, Queen of the Summer Country (1999) and the musical Camelot (1960).

In Mallory’s 15th Century Le Mort d’Arthur she is Gwenyvere.

The original Welsh form of her name is Gwenhwyfar.

This is really ancient!

For while Gwen features in a great many Welsh names of all periods, its Common Celtic predecessor  *uindo- ‘white, bright’ is attested in Celtic names in Roman Britain.

Hwyfar, however, is not recorded anywhere, except in Gwenhwyfar’s name.

There has been a lot of speculation over the years as to its meaning; the Victorians conjectured that it must carry some soft, feminine sort of sense, and interpreted it as ‘soft’ and ‘smooth’, linking it to the rare (and obsolete) Welsh word gwyf.

But this doesn’t actually even mean ‘smooth’!

It means ‘that which extends’.

And the sort of torture it must endure to turn it into hwyfar really brings tears to the eyes.

But there is a better explanation, provided by historical linguistics — the Common Celtic *sŒbro- ‘specter’.

In Old Irish, this became síabar – ‘fairy’ and ghost’ — a word which almost certainly features in the name of another tragic figure of mythology, the Irish Fionnabhair. This make it exactly cognate with Guinevere.

This begs the question whether Guinevere and Fionnabhair are linked at a level deeper than just their names, and whether rather than ever being real historical figures, they belong to the pantheon of the Pagan Celtic Gods.

Given the role they both play, a convincing argument could be put forward that they both represent Goddesses of sovereignty, like Rhiannon and Medb (it is probably no coincidence that in the myth, Fionnabhair’s mother is Medb of Connacht).

Even today, in North Wales, the legend persists of an apparation — ‘the Grey Lady’ who haunts the Celtic hill-fort of Moel Arthur, and is now said to protect the grave and treasure of King Arthur.

Alternatively, they may be the bride aspect of the Goddess — the May Queen. There are certainly strong parallels in the tale of Arthur and Guinevere with that of Lleu and Blodeuwedd.

Perhaps they are both.

Guinevere is found as a genuine given name from at least the 14th Century — largely as a result of the popularity of the Arthurian Cycles. In Wales and the Marches, it survived  in forms such as Gaenor, Gaynor, Gwennor and Gwenifer.

In Cornwall, it became Jenifer. George Bernard Shaw introduced it to the rest of the ESW in his play The Doctor’s Dilemma (1905), which features a character called Jennifer Dubedat.

In Scotland, it became Vanora. Vanora’s Grave in Meigle, Scotland is a grass-covered mound in front of which two carved Pictish stones are known to have once stood, though Vanora isn’t found as a given name itself before the 19th Century.

Another variant is the Italian Ginevra — made better known by Ginevra ‘Ginny’ Weasley in Harry Potter.

But Guinevere itself has always been uncommon. It has never featured in the top 1000 names in the US. And even in England and Wales, there were less than 250 girls given the name Guinevere as a first or second name between 1847 and 1915. 57 baby girls were called Guinevere in the USA in 2010, but only 4 in England and Wales.

This is a great shame, and Guinevere is crying out to be re-embraced. It makes a fantastic alternative to its love-child Jennifer, which is now tumbling out of favor after so long as a firm favorite. It shortens nicely to Guin or Guinny (or Gwin, Gwyn, Gwinny, Gwen and Gwenny, etc) — even Ginny or Jenny.

There are the Welsh pet-forms  of Gwen- names too: Gwenno, Gwennan and Gwenog.

You could even use Vere or Vera, Nev or Neve — or Never!

Why not?

And why not Guinevere? A magnificent name for Pagans and non-Pagans alike!

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Surnames as First Names: English Surnames — A

Posted in Alternative Names, Baby Names, Druid Names, Heathen Names, Historical Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Magical Names, Medieval Names, Names, New Age Names, Pagan Names, Pagan-friendly, Surnames as First Names, Unisex Names, Unusual Names, Wiccan Names, Witch Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2011 | 9 Comments »

Appleby

Following on from my post yesterday about using surnames as first names, I thought I’d take a look at some less used surnames which would make fantastic first names, especially for those with Pagan-leanings. None of them feature in the top 1000 names of the US or UK.

This list, by and large, excludes surnames which are identical to existing first names or ordinary vocabulary words — these all deserves articles to themselves.

And as this is such rich name territory, I plan a whole series of articles on the subject, starting with an A-Z of surnames of Old English, Anglo-French or Norse origin. Today’s are names beginning with A.

  • Abra, Abrey — uncertain origin, possibly a variant of Aubrey, or from Alburgh ‘old mound’, or Avebury ‘Afa’s Burgh’.
  • Acton — from one of the places of the name. Old English āc ‘oak’ + tūn ‘enclosure’, ‘farmstead’, ‘village’, ‘manor’ and ‘estate’. Acton Bell was the pen-name of Anne Bronte.
  • Aldren — Old English alor ‘alder’. Used of someone who lived among alders.
  • Allman — from the Old French aleman ‘German’.
  • Amberley, Amberly — from Amberley, Sussex and Amberley, Gloucestershire. From the Old English amore, a type of bird, possibly the bunting or yellow hammer + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.. Amberley in Sussex is known for its medieval castle, now a very exclusive hotel. The American-style spelling Amberly did peek a few twice into the US top 900s between 1985 and 1991.
  • Amelot, Amlot — a pet-form of Emmeline, itself from the Old German amal ‘work’.
  • Amery, Amory — variant of better-known (and more used) Emery, from the Norman-French name Amalric ‘work-ruler’ (currently rocketing up the charts along with its spin-off Emerson).
  • Amiel — a pet-form of Old French ami ‘friend’ or the medieval girl’s name Amia.
  • Appleby — from one of the places called Appleby. Old English æppel ‘apple’ + Old Norse bý ‘farmstead’, ‘village’ and ‘settlement’.
  • Arlett — from Old English *alrett ‘alder grove’.
  • Arley — probably the commonest name on this list; Arley is found dithering as a boy’s name in mostly the 800s and 900s until the 1930s. from one of the places called Arley or Areley, from Old English earn ‘eagle’ + + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Arundel — partly from Arundel in Sussex (from hārhūne ‘horehound’ + dell ‘valley’), home of Arundel Castle, the principal seat of the Dukes of Norfolk, and partly from the Old French arondel ‘little swallow’.
  • Ashberry — from one of the places called Ashbury. Old English æsc ‘ash’ + burh ‘fortified place’ and ‘stronghold’ — a common element in Old English girls’ names.
  • Ashby — from various places called Ashby, from the Old English æsc or Old Norse askr both meaning ‘ash tree’ + Old Norse bý ‘farmstead’, ‘village’ and ‘settlement’. Popped into the US top 1000 a few times in the 19th Century.
  • Ashwin — from the Old English name Æscwine, from æsc ‘ash’ (used in this context to mean ‘spear’) + wine ‘friend’
  • Atherley — for ‘(dweller) at the lea’.
  • Atholl — the English Atholls derive from the Middle English for ‘(dweller) at the hollow’.
  • Athorn — for ‘(dweller) at the thorn (tree)’.
  • Audley — from Audley in Staffordshire. From the Old English girl’s name Aldgyth ‘old-battle’ or ‘old-strife’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’. It found its way into the top 1000 a handful of times in the late 19th and early 20th Century.
  • Avann — ‘(dweller) at the fen’. Old English fenn ‘fen’.
  • Aveley, Avely — from Aveley, Essex.  From the Old English girl’s name Ælfgyth ‘elf-battle’ or ‘elf-strife’ + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Averley — uncertain; possibly from Aversley Wood, Huntingdonshire. Perhaps Old English eofor ‘boar’ (or a personal name containing the element) + lēah ‘wood’, ‘woodland clearing’, ‘glade’, ‘pasture’ and ‘meadow’.
  • Aylen – Old English æðeling ‘noble’ and ‘prince of the royal blood’ (there is evidence that this was used as a personal name too).
  • Ayler — Old French aillier ‘garlic-seller’.
  • Ayre, Eyre — Old French eir, heir, ultimately from Latin heres ‘heir’.
  • Axon — either Old English personal name Acca + son, or from Askin, a surname deriving from a pet form of the Old Norse name Ásketill ‘cauldron of a God’.
  • Axton – variant of AXON, or the well known Ashton ‘ash-enclosure’, etc.

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Waltzing my ‘ildas

Posted in Alternative Names, Baby Names, Historical Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Medieval Names, Names, New Age Names, Pagan Names, Wiccan Names, Witch Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 22, 2011 | 8 Comments »

The 11th Century Spanish St Casilda

Last week, I wrote about the rare old name Quenilda. Today I thought I’d look at many of the other names ending in -ilda and -ild.

Most -ilda names have the same element in common: the Old English hild ‘battle’ — or its cognate in the other Germanic languages.

The exceptions in the list below are Milda, which is from the Old English milde ‘mild’, Marilda, which is a modern combination of Mary/Maria with -ilda and Wilda, which is an elaboration of plain wild.

There’s also Casilda, a Spanish name of uncertain origins; it was first born by an 11th Century saint, who was said to be the daughter of a Muslim king of Toldeo. If this is true, it would make most sense if it has Arabic roots.

Hild itself is an Anglo-Saxon name in its own right; best known in the form Hilda.

7th Century St Hilda is a well-known East Anglian-born saint, associated with Whitby in Yorkshire (now best known for being a principal location in Bram Stocker’s Dracula and the Whitby Gothic Weekends).

Poor Hilda has yet to shown any signs of rehabilitation itself, saddled as it is with associations of Hilda Ogden in long-running British soap opera Coronation Street.

But not all -ildas should be tarred with the same brush. In the last couple of years, Matilda has returned to the US top 1000, though it still has a long way to go.

Elsewhere, though, it is already becoming very popular. In the UK, for instance, it ranked 46th in 2009.

But it’s Down Under, appropriately enough, where Matilda is really waltzing  — it was 18th in New South Wales in 2010.

This magnificent old name started out in early medieval Germany as Mahthildis, combining Old German mahti ‘might’ and ‘strength’ with hildi — the Old German equivalent of hild. Matilda of Flanders was the wife of William the Conqueror, and the name was extremely popular in medieval times, often in the vernacular form Maud.

One of its traditional short forms is Maddy, and it is one of the medieval names behind the surname Maddison.

But without further ado, here is a hearty selection of -ildas/-ilds from around Europe and throughout the centuries:

Alfhild, Audhild, Borghild, Botilda, Brunhild, Casilda, Clotilda, Durilda, Eoforhild, Ermengilda, Estrilda, Everilda, Farahilda, Farilda, Gerhild, Gilda, Gunhild, Gunilda, Hextilda, Hilda, Ignvild, Irmhild, Kriemhild, Lovilda, Magnild, Marilda, Matilda, Merilda, Milda, Otthild, Pharahilda, Ragnilda, Ravenilda, Reinhild, Richilda, Romilda, Ronilda, Sieghild, Somerilda, Sunilda, Swanilda, Thorilda, Tilda, Torilda, Wachilda, Wilda.

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Minding My P’s and Q’s — Quenilda

Posted in Alternative Names, Baby Names, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Medieval Names, Names, Pagan Names, Unusual Names, Witch Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 13, 2011 | 2 Comments »

My offering for Q is the evocative Quenilda.

It’s not a name most people have ever heard of, and that’s not surprising, as there are very few around today, if any at all. Nor has it ever been common. The Middle Ages are its natural home, when it could also be met with as Quenill, Quenild, Quenilla and Quenylda.

It’s origins are a bit disputed. Some have considered it simply a variant of Gunilda, which was a hugely popular name in medieval times — the Emily or Olivia of its day. Gunilda is the Medieval Latin form of the Old Norse name Gunnhildr, from gunn(r) ‘war’ + hild(r) ‘battle’. Its short form was Gunna, which is probably the source of the word gun; it is known there was a canon at Windsor Castle in the 14th C nicknamed Gunilda. Gunilda and variants crop up a few times among Scandinavian royalty in the Middle Ages,  the last being Queen Gunilla (d.1597), wife of King John III of Sweden.

However, Quenilda’s origins might be entirely separate from Gunilda’s — Anglo-Saxon in fact. The Domesday Book of 1086 records a Cvenild, who was almost certainly an Anglo-Saxon, and whose name is most likely a combination of hild ‘battle’ with coen/cwen ‘woman’, ‘lady’ and ‘queen’, or cyne ‘royal’.

Whatever the truth of its origins, both Quenilda and Gunilda had died out before the end of the Middle Ages. Quenilda left the surnames Quenell — also spelled Quennell and Quinnell. This is first found bestowed on a boy in the 17th Century. By the 19th, a few girls as well as boys were getting the surname, and the Victorians love of medieval saw a slight revival of both Quenilda and Gunilda. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that most Quenilda’s went by the far more widespread Queenie, although Nilda and Nilly present themselves as possible modern pet-forms.

Like the sun at Midwinter, Quenilda’s return to our world was brief. But if you’re a fan of Matilda, but are looking for something more out of the way, why not consider Quenilda?

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Minding My P’s and Q’s — Plaxy

Posted in Alternative Names, Baby Names, Fiction, Llewellyn's Complete Book of Names, Medieval Names, Names, Pagan Names, Unusual Names, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on July 12, 2011 | 1 Comment »

The novelist Charlotte Mary Yonge (1823-1901) was immensely popular in her day, but is now largely unknown.

A couple of days ago, I re-organized my index, and in the process, I noticed that poor P and Q had both been sorely neglected, poor loves. A great candidate for P was put forward by Elaine (thank you!) and as for Q, British Baby Names’s Q Names article has pointed me in the direction to go when I tackle a Q tomorrow (thank you, too)!

First P. My choice is Plaxy. Look it up, and most say that it is a Cornish girl’s name, of uncertain origin, but possibly derived from Praxedes, itself from the Greek praxis ‘a doing’, ‘success’ and ‘accomplishment’. The ultimate source of all this is a certain Charlotte Mary Yonge, a prolific 19th Century novelist and writer on names. Charlotte Mary was probably the first person to make a rigorous study of names, in contrast to the fanciful and colorful nature of books on names which preceded her work. The first edition of her History of Christian Names was published in 1863, with a revised edition appearing in 1884, and it has formed the basis for books on names ever since. But Charlotte Mary, as proficient as she was, still made mistakes.

Plaxy is one of them. A slip of a single letter. Not a single genuine example of Plaxy exists prior to the publication of Olaf Stapledon’s Sirius in 1944.

The real name was staring Charlotte Mary in the face whe she made the connection with Praxedes — the real name is Praxy.

Unlike the mysterious Plaxy, Praxy is found as a given name from the 17th Century — though not in Cornwall. Most of the early examples of the name actually come from Wiltshire, Gloucestershire and Somerset. Like Cornwall, they all belong to ‘the West Country’ — as the South-West Peninsula of England is known — but that’s as close to Cornwall as Praxy gets.

Hand in hand with Praxy are other forms of the name – forms which hark back more closely to Praxedes, such as the unambiguous Praxede, and the quirky Pracsydda. Others include Praxey, Praxsi, Praxadis, Praxedis and even Praxadise, but the commonest is Praxed. And while I haven’t found a Praxy in the 16th Century, there are examples of Praxed, Praxadis, Praxi and Praxe — which I think must count!

But who was Praxedes, and why was her name in use in the 16th Century South-West?

Praxedes was a shadowy Christian saint — known as Prassede in Italian — said to have lived in Rome the 2nd Century. Why such an obscure saint should be commemorated in South-West England is a bit of a mystery. It is a fact that the South-West did have a bit of a thing for unusual names in the early medieval period. Families which remained Catholic after the Reformation in the 16th Century also tended to embrace the names of Catholic saints previously little used before. However, we don’t know for certain when Praxedes was first used. It might well have been much earlier. Praxy and friends are not common in the records we do possess, and before the introduction of Parish Registers, many, if not most, of the population of the British Isles lived their lives without their names ever being recorded on paper.

But there is one very intriguing potential source of the use of Praxedes in Wiltshire in the Middle Ages. You see, it just so happens that in 1230, the rector of St John’s Chapel at Eastcourt in Wiltshire — a man called John of Abingdon — was also the Cardinal Priest of Santa Prassede in Rome. This wasn’t uncommon; until the re-organization of the Church of England in the 19th Century, priests often had more than one ‘living’, especially the likes of a cardinal. It would have been known in Eastcourt where their rector was based; the humble curate left to look after St John’s would have no doubt frequently mentioned the cardinal at St Praxedes in prayers. He might even have been the one who first suggested Praxedes as a name at the baptism of a baby girl — all those years ago, in the mid 13th Century.

Fast forward several hundred years to a science-fiction author choosing a name for his character, who picks up a copy of CMY and plucks Plaxy from its pages. It is almost certainly Olaf Stapledon’s Sirius which is responsible for the what little use Plaxy has seen over the last 50 years.

As for Praxy and Praxed, they had all but died out by the mid 19th Century, but there must have been at least a memory of the name for Charlotte Mary to pick it up. It may be that it was its obscurity in her day which led to the mistake. Plaxy, Praxy – what’s a shift between an ‘l’ to ‘r’ in the grand scheme of things? They’re both great names.

Q to follow tomorrow!

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