Mystery Monday: Bye

Every Monday we will post an entry that hasn’t yet been published with a view towards harnessing the collective onomastic power of the internet. If you have any thoughts about the name’s origin, other variants it might be related to, other examples of its use, etc., please share them in the comments! If you wish to browse other Mystery Monday names, there is an index.

Today’s name is a fun one, because we’ve got examples from 16th C England and 13th C Germany and we have no idea if they represent the same name or not.

There’s every reason to think that these are distinct names; but there’s also no reason to think that they aren’t the same. This is in part because we have no idea what name this could be; pretty much the only possible possible explanation is that the 16th C English form is a double diminutive of Sibyl via such forms as Sybeye and Sybbie.

Have you got any other ideas? Reasons to think these are the same name? Different names? Please share in the comments!

Mystery Monday: Uliana

Every Monday we will post an entry that hasn’t yet been published with a view towards harnessing the collective onomastic power of the internet. If you have any thoughts about the name’s origin, other variants it might be related to, other examples of its use, etc., please share them in the comments! If you wish to browse other Mystery Monday names, there is an index.

Today’s name is an especially interesting one because of the complicated context in which it is found. We have recently been working through a collection of notarial documents relating to enslaved pepole in Florence from the early 1360s on. The documents are fascinating for the wealth of data that they provide, not only on Florentine slave-owner names and the names of the people that they enslaved, but also the cultural and geographical origins of the enslaved people, their ages, and their physical characteristics. Reading through the records is sobering business: It is hard not to feel the weight of the unhappy story behind each entry. Most of the enslaved people are women; many of them are still children.

Most of the people were renamed after they were enslaved, with the documents often saying that someone was so named “in lingua latina”; a handful include the name the person was previously known by, “in lingua sua” or “in lingua tartare” (most frequently). Both data sets provide interesting material: On the side of the new names, certain classic Italian names are vastly over represented — probably 1/3 to 1/2 of the enslaved women were renamed some variant of Caterina or Margarita — both popular names in Italy in the 14th century, but not that popular. And on the side of the people’s original names, we get intriguing glimpses as to how names in Greek, Slavic, and Turkic languages were rendered into Latin. (For instance, the two Greek women who were named Cali or Chali in their original language may have in fact been named from καλή, the Greek word for ‘beautiful’).

What’s also interesting is that the pool of “Latin” names that were given to the enslaved people is not merely a subset of the names born by Florentines. Today’s mystery name is one that was the “new” name of two enslaved women (one of Tartar origin, the other not specified), and which we have not otherwise seen in Italy: Uliana.

Is it a form of Juliana/Iuliana? Is it a variant of Eliana (which itself may be a form of Juliana, or possibly a form of Ellen)? Is it distinct from either of these? We don’t know. We hope you might have some thoughts. Please share in the comments!

And if you are interested in knowing more about the enslaved people in 14th-century Florence, we are tweeting the names from the records on the anniversaries, at @FlorentineSlave.

Mystery Monday: Quant

Every Monday we will post an entry that hasn’t yet been published with a view towards harnessing the collective onomastic power of the internet. If you have any thoughts about the name’s origin, other variants it might be related to, other examples of its use, etc., please share them in the comments! If you wish to browse other Mystery Monday names, there is an index.

Today’s name is a rather-modern sounding late 16th C Swedish name — or, at least, a name found in Sweden. Between 1591 and 1597, in a list of innkeepers from Stockholm, the same man shows up named Quant, Quante, and Qwant. While it’s reasonable to assume that most of Stockholm’s innkeepers were Swedish, there are other names in the list that show distinctly non-Swedish (generally more German) influences, so it’s entirely possible that Mr. Quant is not Swedish himself.

What this means is that we could be looking beyond Sweden for the origin of the name. There is an older Danish word qvant ‘young child’ mentioned in Wiktionary’s entry for the Westrobothnian word ‘gwadd’ (we’ll wait while you go and look up “Westrobothnian” — you wouldn’t be the only one to admi that they’d never heard of that language before this post!) — however, there’s no evidence to back up the existence of this word, so we’re quite reasonably leery of taking this as the root without further support.

Have you got any support to lend to us? Or other suggestions as to the origin of the name? Please share in the comments!

Mystery Monday: Pregyon

Every Monday we will post an entry that hasn’t yet been published with a view towards harnessing the collective onomastic power of the internet. If you have any thoughts about the name’s origin, other variants it might be related to, other examples of its use, etc., please share them in the comments! If you wish to browse other Mystery Monday names, there is an index.

Sometimes it’s easy to get lulled into a false sense that in the 16th C, the naming pool across England was relatively uniform and predictable. After all, going through parish register after parish register filled with Johns, Williams, Thomases, Roberts, Margarets, Janes, Elizabeths, and Alices can (dare we say it!) get a bit tedious sometimes (no, no, we don’t really mean it. Names are NEVER tedious and boring).

Sometimes, though, you get a name that reminds you that there was regional variation, and this variation can be seen most clearly in the liminal places — in the counties bordering the Welsh marches, in the Scottish border lands, and, in the case of today’s Mystery Monday name, in the far reaches of Cornwall.

Today’s name is a masculine one that shows up in a Cornish parish in 1562, 1577, and 1593. (All marriage records, so it’s unlikely to be the same person, but the third could be the son of the first.)

We’ve not found any examples of the name outside of Cornwall, and it isn’t clear at all what the origin of the name is, other than that it’s at least plausible that it’s ultimately of Cornish origin. Do you have any suggestions? Seen the name, or something like it, elsewhere? Please share in the comments!

Monthly topic: Some more 9th C families

We’ve gotten a bit sidetracked from our original plan of looking at multi-generational data to see what sorts of clues we could obtain about how people chose names for children by doing cross-products of Germanic name elements instead; but over the weekend we picked up a new source roughly contemporary to the Irminon polyptyque which has similar sorts of data. This source is a listing of tenant farmers in lands held by the Abbey of St. Victor, in Marseille, compiled in 814, and contains not only the names of parents and children, but often, also (fascinatingly!) their ages!

We have only just started transcribing the data from this source (which is not nearly as extensive as the other one, sadly), and already the data we have transcribed shows some interesting differences from the Paris data. The most significant difference is the significantly higher percentage of names of Romance or Christian (i.e., names of saints) origin, compared to the predominantly Germanic-origin names found in the Irminon polytyqe.

One consequence of this is that the patterns we see in Paris, with the dithematic Germanic names of the parents being recombined in the names of the children, are much less in evidence in the Marseille data. In fact, 6 pages in (albeit this is not very much data yet!), we haven’t found any evidence of such a trend.

We have, however, found a number of listings of complete families whose names are so lovely and fascinating, we’re simply going to share them even if we don’t have any nice scholarly conclusions to draw!

The parents are listed first, and then their children with their ages. Some of the children are noted as “baccalarius” or “baccalaria”. This is the root of English “bachelor”, and to be honest, we’re not entirely sure what sort of status it signalled in the 9th C. Judging from the ages of children that are given explicitly, in comparison with the children who are noted as being “bachelors”, a baccalarius/baccalaria seems, in this context, to be an older son or daughter who is too old to count as a child but not yet living independently in their own homestead.

Stephanus + Dara, and their children:
Dominicus (bachelor)
Martina (bachelor)
Vera, 15
Ermesindis, 7
Aprilis, 4
Stephania, 4

Martinus + Dominica, and their children:
Bertemarus (bachelor)
Desideria (bachelor)
Savarildis (bachelor)
Olisirga, 10
Rica, 9

Valerianus + Desiderada, and their children:
Anastasia, 5
Stephanus, 4
Martinus, 3

Fulcomares + Vuteria, and their children:
Radebodus (bachelor)
Dominicus (bachelor)
Dominildis (bachelor)
Fulcorad, 7
Beto, 5
Ingomares, 3
Romildis, 2

Dominicus + Stephana, and their children:
Ulmisis (“ad scholia”)
Peregrinus, 10
Teoderada, 7
Dadilane, 5

Elpericus + (wife not mentioned), and his child:
Stabilia + (husband not named; he’s “extraneus”, i.e., a stranger), and her children:
Abulinus, 12
Sarifredus, 8,
unnamed infant, 6

Betolenus + Desideria, and their children:
Momola, 5
Magnildis, 4
Teobertus, 3

Pelagis + Rooberta, and their children:
Roolindis (bachelor)
Arnulfus (bachelor)
Dominicus, 7
Betolenus, 4
unnamed infant, 3

Dignoaldus + Pascasia, and their children:
Ailaldus (bachelor)
Excisefredus, 10
Exuperius (bachelor)
Giso (bachelor)
Gairefredus (bachelor)

Gairefredus + Vuoldefreda, and their children:
Adalbertus, 6
Gairberga, 5

Dominica, a widow, and her children:
Maria (bachelor)
Orsalla (bachelor)
Scildis (bachelor)
Stantildis (bachelor)
Scefredus
Momola

Bertefredus + Florentina, and their children:
Inga, 10
Emnildis, 5
Dominica, 3
Joanna, 3

Incaladius + Aridia, and their children:
Christiduna, 15
Dignoaldus, 8
Scæfredus, 5
Joanna, 4

Paulus + Castellana, and their children:
Dominicus, 10
Ragnulfus, 8
Prodagia, 5
Victor, 4
Teotildis, 3

Joannes + Marta, and their children:
Petrus, 8
Martina, 5
Dominica, 3

Dominicus + Licinia, and their children:
Fredemares (bachelor)
Juliana, 9
Martina, 7
Marcella, 3

Aridius + Paulesinda, and their children:
Joannes, 5
Stephania, 2

We could probably keep typing these up all night, but we’ll end here! Hope you enjoyed these.

Monthly topic: Why did medieval people choose the names they did?

Things have been rather quiet over at DMNES central over the summer as our staff members have been busy going to conferences, enjoying their holidays, and working on research papers. Now the summer sun is gone and the fall days are coming, and we’re hoping to get more active here on the blog again.

There are many interesting aspects of historical naming practices that one can study, and one of the most difficult ones is the question of motivation — why did medieval parents (or parish priests in some cases!) choose the names they did for their children? Very rarely in the records that we have to hand are explicit reasons given; sometimes, strong implicit evidence can be deduced from context, such as a child baptized by the same name as an elder, already deceased, sibling. General trends can also be identified, such as rises and falls in the popularity of saint’s names (I have long since wondered if the reason why Thomas is the most popular male name in the 16th C parish registers of Ormskirk, Lancashire, while in every other contemporary data set, the most popular name is John, is because of some connection with Saint Thomas in the town; however, I’ve been unable to find any such connection), or the rise of virtue names, which we’ve discussed before.

But information at the specific level is generally incredibly rare. This is what makes the Polyptyque d’Irminon such an amazing resource. The document was compiled around 823 by Irminon, abbot of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, and was a catalogue of the lands owned by the abbey between the rivers Seine and Eure. As part of the catalogue, the names of the tenants are recorded — and not only the tenants, but also the names of their wives, and their children. This makes the polyptyque a treasure trove of 9th C names which is almost unparalleled — among other things, it is one of our best witnesses for Frankish/Old French feminine names.

Entries are formulaic, and tend to repeat the same information. Here is a representative example:

Giroldus servus et uxor ejus colona, nomine Dominica, homines sancti Germani, habent secum infantes II, his nominibus, Gisloldus, Gerardus. Tenet mansum ingenuilem I, habentem de terra arabili bunuaria IIII, de vinea aripennum I, de prato dimidium aripennum. Cetera similiter.

Girold slave and his tenant wife, by name Dominica, people of Saint Germain, have by themselves two children, by name Gislold, Gerard. He holds 1 free farm having 4 bunuaria of arable land, 2 arpents of vineyards, and half an arpent of pasture land. The rest is similar.

(From this you can see that the source is an amazing trove of information about medieval farm culture, if that’s your thing.) This example was picked at random, but also for a purpose: Take a look at the men’s names, and you’ll see that the names of the sons both reflect the names of their father! Gislold shares the deuterotheme with Girold, while Gerard shares the prototheme — Gir is a common French variant while Ger is a more typically German form.

Examples of similar patterns — including women’s names, and combinations of both parents names, especially when the number of children grows — can be found on pretty much every page, and we’ll spend some time this month looking at some of the examples. They show a fascinating glimpse into the reasons and motivations behind the names!

#Namehunt: Jolyon

We received a request on the blog for information on the name Jolyon. This is a curious name, because two of the main authorities on English onomastics, E.G. Withycombe and P.H. Reaney & R.M. Wilson disagree as its etymology!

Withycombe, s.n. Julian makes it a derivative of Julian, the name of 10 medieval saints and used in England from the 13th C on. (It was never as popular there as its feminine counterpart, Juliana.) Reaney & Wilson, on the other hand, identify it (s.n. Jolyon) as a byname, ‘jolly Jan’. They have examples of similar constructions s.n. Jollyboy, including Jolifion 1377 ‘jolly Ion (John)’ and Jolyrobin 1332 ‘jolly Robin’.

The answer is probably a compromise: Both origins are plausible, and the only way to tell for sure would be to find a record referring to the same person as both Julian and Jolyon. We haven’t found any yet, but if we do, we’ll update this post!

#Namehunt: Marcelle

June is another ramp-up-towards-the-next-edition month, and we decided to make this month’s topic one that would encourage us to wrap up not only more entries, but more entries that we know people want to see. (So if you have any suggestions, leave a comment on this post and we’ll see what we can do!) We have a queue of names, and we’ll devote this month to targeted posts on as many of these names as we can.

The first is Marcelle. This is a French form of Marcella, a feminine form of Marcel. Marcellus was originally a cognomen of the Roman gens Claudius, and is etymological a diminutive of Marcus. The feminine form Marcella is the name of a 5th C Roman saint and a 14th C Greek saint. Despite its Roman roots and the early saint, the feminine name was never especially common. We have one 16th C example of Marcella in Italy, and have recently added another example from Italy, a 9th C citation of the diminutive form Marcellina. The name, perhaps surprisingly, also can be found in Scotland. In 1465, one Roderick Macliode married one Marcella Celestini de Insulis [1]; this Marcella may possibly have been a Gaelic speaker. In another Scottish record, this one from 1527, there is mention of “Katherine Fuktour and Marsle hyr dotthir” [2].

But what about Marcelle, the French spelling in question? It has proven remarkably difficult to find any evidence for this name actually being used by real people in the Middle Ages. We have found one Marie la Marcelle in 1340 [3], but this is an example of a relational byname (i.e., Marie’s husband — or possibly her father — was probably named Marcel), not a given name. The only clear instance of the name that we’ve found is the name of a character in Arnoul Gréban’s 15th C mystery play, Mystère de la Passion. Given the early saint and the use of the name in literature, it’s not impossible that we’ll one day find an example of a medieval French woman named Marcelle…but that day has not yet come.

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Notes

[1] Munro, Jean, and R.W. Munro. Acts of the Lords of the Isles: 1336-1493, Scottish History Society, 4th Series, vol. 22. Edinburgh: Scottish History Society, 1986, B41.

[2] Black, George F., The Surnames of Scotland: Their Origin, Meaning and History, (New York: The New York Public Library, 1986), s.n. Fuktor.

[3] Viard, Jules, Documents parisiens du règne de Philippe VI de Valois (1328-1350): Extraits des registres de la chancellerie de France, Volume 2; Volumes 1339-1350 (H. Champion, 1900), p. 60.

Medieval roots of modern names: The US 2015 top 51-100 for girls

While the top 100 boy’s names were all relative homogeneous amongst the groups that we looked at, the girl’s names are much more varied. We’ve noted in the previous groupings how rare names of Biblical origin are compared to the boy’s names; that’s not the case for this group of names in which names of Biblical origin are equal first with names deriving from surnames. This just goes to reinforce the great diversity in feminine names!

So let’s look at those Biblical names first. Sadie (52) is of American origin, originally a nickname of Sarah (58). Sarah itself is a relatively late spelling; the intrusive -h wasn’t found before the 16th C in England. Gabriella (54) is not a Biblical name, but it is a feminine form of one. While it’s masculine counterpart was used moderately commonly, the feminine form was rare outside of Spain and Italy in the Middle Ages. Madelyn (59) and Madeline (90) are two of the many variant spellings of Magdalene, originally a byname meaning ‘from Magdala’. One might view Madelyn as a prototypical ‘modern’ spelling with the y replacing i-e. And yet, Madelyn can be found in England in 1598. It’s actually Madeline that would be an atypical spelling, medievally! We include Genesis (65) in this list not because it is a Biblical name but because it is a name with Biblical origins. The penchant for naming children after book chapters is definitely a modern one! Returning to more traditional names, Eva (75) is a Latinized form of the name; it was never especially common, but it can be found in the Czech Republic, England, France, and Italy. The spelling Naomi is a post-medieval one; before the 17th C, the usual English (and French) form was Noemy or Noemi (77). Lydia (81), like Magdalene, could also be classified as a surname, given that it was originally a locative byname referring to a kingdom in Asia Minor. The name has historically been quite popular amongst Dutch-speaking communities, particularly Protestant ones. Isabelle (94) could also perhaps go into the names of French origin; you’ll struggle to find any Isabelle in the Old or New Testaments — but you’ll find plenty of Elizabeth‘s, and Isabelle derives from an Old Provençal form of that name. Similarly, one might expect to find Gianna (96) under the Italian names, but we have included it here as it is a feminine form of John. Both it and Giana can be found from the 13th C on.

It’s an eclectic group of surnames that turn up in this group. First we have the locatives: Kaylee (61) can be from either the French Cailly or the Lancashire Cayley. Hailey (64) is either from Hailey in Oxfordshire, or a descriptive for anyone who lives near a clearing filled with hay. Peyton (72) is the name of cities in both Essex and Suffolk, and Ashley (85) ‘clearing filled with ashes’ is the name of many medieval English placenames. In this subgroup we can perhaps also include Kylie (66). The origin of this name is disputed, and certainly we have no evidence that it was used in the Middle Ages. However, it is sometimes considered to be a feminine form of Kyle, which itself was a medieval placename, in Scotland. Next we have the occupationals, with Piper (68), of Old English origin and found from at least the 12th C on, and Taylor (76), of French origin, and also found from the 12th C on. The last four are all Irish patronymics in origin. Kennedy (57) is a an English form of Cennétig or Cinnéide, a rare name in Ireland used in the 12th and 14th C, and which first shows up in Scotland in the reign of William the Lion (1165-1214). Mackenzie (73) is an English or Scottish form of the patronymic byname mac Coinnich ‘son of Coinneach’. An earlier form of Coinneach, Cainnech, was used in Ireland between the 6th and 11th C. Quinn (97) is an English form of Irish Cuinn, the genitive (possessive) form of Conn, a masculine name used from the 10th to 16th C. Reagan (99) is also an anglicized form, of the masculine name Riacán used from the 9th to 12th C.

The next two biggest groups are those of Latin and Greek origin. The former kicks off with a name we’ve discussed before: Despite what many modern baby name websites nad books might say, Stella (51) is not a modern name, but can be found in 15th and 16th C Italy. Lucy (55) is a vernacular English form of a popular saint’s name, Lucia, though even in England Luce was the more typical form than Lucy. Bella (74) can be a pet form of any of various names including Isabella and Jacobella, but it can also be simply the Latin word for ‘beautiful’. The root of Ruby (83) is the gemstone name, but the name of the gem itself derives from Latin rubeus, rubea ‘red’. This is another name which many people consider to be a modern coinage which is not. With imperial roots, it is no surprise that Julia (89) has had a long history of use from classical Rome to the modern era. Some people credit Shakespeare with the introduction of the name into England, but this is false; the name was already in use there by the 13th C. Vivian (95) as the name of two early saints, but despite this the name was rarely used by women medieval. We have one late-period Italian example. Clara (98), on the other hand, enjoyed steady, if not excessively popular, usage throughout Europe.

Turning now to the Greek names, we’ve see two variants of Arianna (56), as well as one of Khloe (100). Maya (69) and Aurora (79) are two names of Greek origin (though Maya actually has more than one origin!) for which we have not yet found any evidence of medieval usage — though this is not to say that we won’t! Melanie (80) has also already shown up on this blog before, when we discussed names deriving from the color black. It was only rarely used medievally, in significant contrast to Katherine (84), one of the most popular women’s names of all time. Next, we have Alexis (86); a name which was found in the Middle Ages, but which was exclusively masculine. Its use as a feminine name is modern. Finally, we have Cora (88); we haven’t yet found an instance of the root name, but it gave rise to diminutive forms which are witnessed, including Corella and Corina.

There is but a handful of names of German origin. Mila (53) is a feminine form of Milo. The masculine form was quite common, but the feminine form was almost unused. Caroline (62) is a diminutive of Carol, a feminine form of Charles. We haven’t found any medieval examples of Caroline, but the diminutive forms were much more common than any of the full forms, with both French Charlotte and Italian Carlutia found in the late period. French-influenced Aubree (78) does not have the same origin that Aubrey has; the root name is Germanic Alberada or Alberadis. Alice (87) is an English form of a name that was popular throughout Europe in many different variants and diminutives; Alyssa (93) is one such, and while we haven’t yet found an explicit medieval instance of it, we would not be surprised to do so.

Next we have a group of names which have medieval roots as words, but were not used as names before the 19th C. The word Hazel (63) is Old English in origin, and you can read the entry for it in the Middle English Dictionary here. Autumn (67), on the other hand, is from an Old French word, used in Middle English from the 14th C. Medieval names were not generally taken from the stock of ordinary words; but one exception to this is the rise of virtue names such as Faith (91) in the 16th C. Serenity (71) is a modern coinage (it derives from Latin Serena); this word was not used in Middle English and only imported into English later.

Two names have long historical lineages but need to be classified as uncertain in origin. The usual tale of Eleanor (60) is that it’s from the phrase alia Aenor ‘another Aenor’, but this is unlikely given the early examples of the name, many of which include a -d-. Annabelle (92) has been in use in Scotland since the 12th C, and appears to be either a variant of or a misspelling of Amabel.

Brianna (82) is a feminine form of Irish Brian, and another name people point to as a modern coinage. However, Briana occurs as a name of a character in a 16th C Spanish romance, Espejo de Principe y Cavalleros. This poem was translated into English in 1578 and published under the title of The mirrour of princely deedes and knighthood: wherein is shewed the worthinesse of the Knight of the Sunne, and his brother Rosicleer, sonnes to the great Emperour Trebetio: with the strange loue of the beautifull and excellent princesse Briana, and the valiant actes of other noble princes and knightes. Now newly translated out of Spanish into our vulgar English tongue, by M.T. On an onomastically unrelated note, the “M.T.” here is one Margaret Taylor, the first woman to translate a Spanish romance into English and the first woman to have published a romance in English.

As the month draws to a close this is probably our last post in this series (perhaps until next year?), and it only seems fitting that we end with a name which in a sense epitomizes modern-day American naming practices, and which has no medieval roots whatsoever: Nevaeh (70), which is simply ‘heaven’ spelled backwards.

We hope you enjoyed this tour of the medieval roots of popular modern names!

Medieval roots of modern names: The US 2015 top 51-100 for boys

At this rate, we’re probably going to only make it through the top 100 before the month is out. One thing that has been interesting about each group of names that we’ve looked at is how consistent the relative popularities of different name types have been, with Biblical names being the most common amongst the boys’, and relatively unrepresented amongst the girls. We’ll see that trend continue as we move down to the top 51-100 of the boy’s names, and thus even if we don’t investigate any further, we would not be surprised to see this trend trickle even further down the list. But let’s see what else we can find!

As we noted, the Biblical again dominate this group, but this time we start to see the influence of non-English spellings on American names. Firs we have two variants of John: Evan (67), a medieval Welsh form, and Ian (76), modernly generally treated as a Scottish form but medievally actually found in the Low Countries, Germany, and Eastern Eruope. Then we have two Spanish forms: Jose (80) and Mateo (85) (this is, of course, also an Italian form!). Amongst the standard English forms of the names we have but two New Testament names — Thomas (no. 51) Nathaniel (97) — compared to a wide range of Old Testament names: Aaron (52); Eli (53); Jeremiah (55); Josiah (57); Jordan (60); Adam (73); Asher (83); Zachary (88); Ezra (92); and Elias (100).

Of these names, a few deserve extra note. First, neither Jeremiah nor Josiah are typical medieval spellings: before 1600, both were more commonly spelled with the Greek influenced form -ias. This is exactly where Elias (as opposed to Elijah) comes from, and if you check out the variants of Zachary, you’ll find -ias forms there as well. Second, we lack entries for Eli, Ezra, and Asher: This is a reflection of the fact that these names were rarely used by Christians until the 17th C, being more commonly used by Jews — and so far, our coverage has a distinct dearth of Jewish records. Third, it is debatable whether Jordan should be considered in this list. Certainly, most people associate the name with the Biblical river Jordan. And this association is ancient and honorable: The name was popular in the Middle Ages particularly amongst those who had been on pilgrimage to the Holy Land and brought back water from the Jordan River to baptise their children. However, it is unlikely that this was the original root of the name; instead, the root appears to be an Old German name Jordanes. (The complications surrounding the name are why we don’t yet have an entry for it, despite the fact that we have examples from England, Estonia, France, Germany, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden, and Switzerland, from the 11th C to the 16th!)

We then have a slew of given names that were not originally given names, but surnames — and if we collect all four groups, locative, occupational, patronymic, and descriptive, together, they outnumber the Biblical names. The place names are almost all English in origin: Colton (59), Brayden (61), Lincoln (66), Easton (78), Brandon (82), and Bentley (93). The one exception is Xavier (90), an Old Spanish form of a Basque place name deriving from etxe berri ‘new house’ or ‘new home’. The occupationals are all medieval English: a Parker (72) maintained a park or game preserve; Chase (74) was a name for a hunter, someone who chases; a Cooper (77) made barrels while a Tyler (81) lay tiles and a Sawyer (94) sawed wood. A Ryder (98) is one who rides out, and this specific spelling is not modern, but can be found in the 16th C. In our patronymics group we have already seen a variant of Jaxson (84) in an earlier post. Hudson (65) is ‘son of Hudd‘ — a pet form of either Hugh or Richard. Nolan (71) could also be put under the “Irish” heading below: It derives from the Irish clan byname Ó Nualláin, which in turn derives from Irish nuall ‘noble, famous’. There are two descriptive: Cameron (56), from Irish camshron ‘bent nose’ and Blake (96), which has two equally plausible, and contradictory origins: It can be from both Old English blǣċ ‘pale, bright, shining’ and blæc ‘black, dark’. Finally we have Carson (89), a Scottish surname of uncertain origin. Early forms include Carsan, Acarson, and Corsan, and it may have been originally a place name.

The next biggest groups are the names of Greek and Latin origin. For the former, there is Nicholas (62), popular throughout Europe; Angel (64), concentrated in Italy and Iberia; Jason (86) and its nickname Jace (75), which we could also place in the Biblical names category above, and if we had any medieval examples of the name we probably would have — modernly, the Greek hero rather than the obscure New Testament character is the more likely root of the name; and Theodore (99), a rare name medievally and one easily confused with forms of Theodoric. In the second group, we have the imperial Adrian (58), especially popular in the Low Countries; lordly Dominic (68), also spread throughout Europe; saintly Austin (69), this form an English contraction of the larger Augustine; and Leo (91), which is equally derivable from the Latin and the Greek.

This leaves us with six names, half of which are Irish: Connor (54) is an English form of the Irish name Conchobhar, which was popular in Ireland from the 8th to the 16th C; Kevin (79) is an English form of the early Irish saint’s name Cáemgen used in the 6th and 7th C. The name was not otherwise used, until it was revived in the modern period, but the place name Caisleáin Caoimhghin was recorded in English in a variety of spellings throughout the Middle ages, including Castelkevyn in 1308 and 1547, Castle Kevin in 1590, Castlekevin in 1542, and Castrum Kevini in 1343; and Ayden (87) is a variant of Aiden, which we’ve discussed earlier in this series.

What is most surprising about this group of names is that we have but one name of German: Robert (63), which had held sway for centuries as one of the most popular names. We also have a name of Welsh that we discussed in detail a few months ago as part of our Arthurian names series: Gavin (70). Last in the group we have one name which is purely modern: Kayden (95). The most tenuous connection that we can make from this name to the Middle Ages is via the Scottish surname Cadenhead, originally the name of a place at the head of the Caldon or Cadon Water in Selkirkshire. But this is at best a retrospective connection.