Mystery Monday: Mermer

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.

Most of our mystery names are mysterious because we have no idea what their origin might be. Today’s name is the opposite: We have two equally plausible options, and are looking for assistance in discriminating between them!

The name is a 14th-15th C masculine name found in Switzerland:

Normally, a name found in a German influenced part of Europe containing the element mar or mer would be easy: We’d identify it as coming from Old English mære, Old High German, Old Saxon māri all from Proto-Germanic *mērijaz ‘famous’. Doublets — where a name is composed by duplicating an element — are rare, but not unheard of in Germanic names (our personal favorite is Bertbert, which will appear in the next edition), so ordinarily this would be a straightforward identification.

But! There is also a Greek name, rendered in Latin as Mermerus, found in mythology as the name of a centaur, of the grandson of Jason and Medea, a host of Odysseus, and of a Trojan in the Trojan war. The 14th-15th C is on the early end for the revival of classical Greek names in the Renaissance, but we don’t have a previous date for this occurrence, and Switzerland is close enough to Italy that this etymology cannot be discounted.

So we turn to you: What do you think? Do you have any evidence that ways in favor of one alternative over the other? Or any alternative etymologies to suggest? Please share in the comments!

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Mystery Monday: Agamelono

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.

And we’re back around at the beginning of the alphabet again! Today’s name is a masculine name from Renaissance Italy, and every time I type it out, I keep feeling like it should be Greek — but I’m pretty sure I’m just getting swayed by Agamemnon:

It’d be cool (and not unreasonable give the Renaissance Italian’s penchant for reviving classical Greek and Latin names) if this were of Greek origin, but we haven’t been able to find any Ἀγεμ- or ῾Αγήμ- name that has any ls in it.

So, do you have any thoughts about where this name might have come from? Any examples of similar names? Please share in the comments!

Mystery Monday: Phyofius

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 looks like it should be easily identifiable as a classical name revived in Renaissance Italy — it has the look of a Latinized name of probably Greek origin (so many Phs…). But if that’s true, we haven’t been able to determine what the root Greek name is!

We have two examples, in slightly different spellings, from early 14th C Veneto, and so far we haven’t found any other instance of the name, even considering other variant spellings. There’s nothing like it in the LGPN or Liddell and Scott. So we’re rather clueless.

Do you have any thoughts? Other examples of the name? Please share in the comments!

Looking into history: Unexpected finds

In this post, we take a look at some of the names in the ONS girls’ names data from England and Wales (up through the first 300) which may surprise some people by turning up in the Middle Ages.

First up is no. 41 Imogen — historically thought to have first appeared post-1600 as a typo in a Shakespearean play, the name has an alternative history, dating back to medieval Germany.

Ancient Greek name Penelope (no. 48) came into use in England in the 16th, part of a fad for classical names. (Nickname Penny (no. 198) is more modern, though.)

No. 65 Ada has an old-fashioned feel to it — but did you know it’s roots go back at least to the 9th C in France?

Biblical names Lydia (no. 130), Leah (no. 136), Esther (no. 173), Naomi (no. 178), Rebecca (no. 186), Tabitha (no. 204), Lois (no. 215), and Rachel (no. 323) became popular amongst French, Dutch, and English Protestants in the 16th C, as did virtue names like Faith (no. 135). Interestingly, Hope (no. 139) is a virtue name that we haven’t yet found any pre-1600 examples of, though Esperanza from Latin sperantia ‘hope’ is found in 15th-16h C Spain and Italy (but not in the ONS data!)

Modern name Ottilie (no. 164) is a variant of medieval Odile, popular in France especially in the diminutive form Odelina.

No. 169 Laura first became popular after Petrarch as the poetic name for his love; it spread from Italy to France, Italy, and England over the 14th and 15th centuries.

Here’s a surprising one: Maia (no. 176). The DMNES entry is still in draft form, but we have two Low German examples from the 16th century; variant Maja (no. 192) is not an unreasonable alternative medieval spelling.

French-origin name Amy (no. 189) was popular in England from the 14th C onwards.

No. 196 Alba occurs in Catalan in the early 16th C.

Golden name Aurelia (no. 212) was used in Renaissance Italy. While name no. 361 Sapphire is generally interpreted as a gem name, when the medieval form Sapphira was used in 16th C England, it was more likely in reference to the New Testament character.

Did you know that Alana (no. 216) is a medieval name? It’s the Latin feminine form of Alan, and appears rarely. (Variants that add extra ls or ns or hs, such as Alannah (no. 472), Alanna (no. 650), Allana (no. 1788), Alanah (no. 1887), and Allanah (no. 3178) and compounds like Alana-Rose (no. 2901) and Alana-Rae (no. 5666) are not generally medieval.)

Nickname Effie (no. 236), usually a pet form of Euphemia (no. 4684), shows up in 16th C England (as does the full name itself) — a rare instance of an -ie or -y diminutive ending in medieval England!

Name no. 243, Talia we have examples of in 13th and 16th C Italy; there’s no entry for the name yet, as the etymological origin of the name is uncertain.

Names of classical gods and goddesses became popular in the Renaissance, including Diana (no. 275) found in both England and Italy (Diane (no. 3178) is a French form; Dianna (no. 3985) and Dyana (no. 48684) are modern forms). In general, the Latin names were preferred over the Greek — which means while we don’t have Athena (no. 239), Atene (no. 5666), Athene (no. 5666) (or the compound Athena-Rose, no. 4684) in the DMNES data, we do have Minerva (no. 2187). (The compound Diana-Elena (no. 5666) is also modern.)

Modern-day Melody (no. 312) is found in the Latin form Melodia in England during the fad for fanciful Latinate names in the 13th C. It’s during this period that we also find Amanda (no. 602).

Name no. 213 Remi shows up in medieval France — but as a masculine name, not a feminine name. Similarly, Alexis (no. 323) can be found right across Europe, but only as a man’s name.

The roots of Christmas name Natalie (no. 354) go all the way back to the early Middle Ages — it shows up multiple times in the 9th C, which makes it an incredibly well-witnessed early French feminine name!

We’ll tackle names from no. 400 down in a future post.

Looking into history: modern and medieval patterns

In this post we continue our tour of the ONS baby name data for England/Wales 2018, specifically the girls’ names.

As we noted in our previous post, moving outside the top 10, we start to get a wider variety of names, including names that have long medieval traditions and names that illustrate common modern naming patterns.

Among the latter is the penchant for naming children after flowers and plants, which we find in the names Poppy (11), Poppie (614), Poppi (1977), and the compounds Poppy-Rose (936); Poppy-May (1343), Poppy-Mae (1887), Poppy-Mai (2674), and Poppie-Mae (5666); Poppy-Rae (1649); Poppy-Louise (2674) and Poppie-Louise (5666); Poppy-Ann (3178); Poppy-Grace (3985); Poppy-Leigh (3985); Poppy Lou (3985); Poppy-Jane (4684); Poppie-Rae (5666); and Poppy-Marie (5666). But while the name is modern, the word is certainly medieval — it is from Middle English popy, popie, from Old English popiġ, popeġ, popæġ, which ultimately takes its origin from Late Latin papaver, and it was occasionally used in England as a byname.

Other modern flower and plant names include Ivy (14), Ivie (815), and its compounds Ivy-Rose (306); Ivy-Grace (902); Ivy-Mae (902), Ivy-May (1136), and Ivy-Mai (4684); Ivy-Rae (972); Ivy-Leigh (1788) and Ivy-Lee (5666); Ivy-Jean (2674) and Ivy-Jane (2901); Ivy-Willow (2901); Ivy-Belle (3518); Ivy-Marie (3985); Ivy-Alice (4684); Ivy-Ann (4684); Ivy-Beau (4684); Ivy-Lou (4684); Ivy-Louise (4684); Ivy-Blu (5666) and Ivy-Blue (5666); and Ivy-Rain (5666); as well as Willow (20) or Wyllow (5666) and its compounds Willow-Rose (864), Willow-Grace (1200), Willow-Mae (2090), Willow-Rae (2187), and Willow-Jade (4684); Daisy (28), Daisie (826), Daisey (3985), and Daisee (5666), and their compounds Daisy-Mae (574), Daisy-May (886), Daisy-Mai (1526), and Daisie-Mae (5666); Daisy-Rae (1711); Daisy-Anne (3518); Daisy-Leigh (3518); Daisy-Rose (3518); Daisy-Lou (4684); Daisie-Grace (5666); and Daisy-Belle (5666); Holly (56), Hollie (158), Holli (5666), and their compounds Holly-May (2674), Hollie-Mae (3518), Holly-Mae (4684), and Hollie-Mai (5666), Hollie-Rose and Holly-Rose (both jointly 3518); Jasmine (75), Yasmin (321), Jasmin (657), Yasmine (778), Jazmin (1136), Jazmine (1234), Yasmina (1393), Jasmina (1788), Yasmeen (2187), Yazmin (2187), Jasmeen (3518), Jazmyn (3518), Jasmyn (3873), Yasemin (3985), Jazzmin (5666), and the compound Jasmine-Rose (4684); Hazel (179); Primrose (213); Blossom (365); Meadow (378); Fern (427); Juniper (478); Rosemary (596), Rosemarie (2187), Rose-Marie (3518), Rosie-Marie (3985); Saffron (602); Dahlia (767), Dalia (990), and Daliah (3518); Heather (952); Azalea (1136); Bluebell (1136) and Bluebelle (1526); Delphine (1694); Camelia (1711) and Camellia (3985); Tigerlily (1887), Tiger-Lilly (4684), and Tiger-Lily (5666); Lilac (3178); Lotus (3518); Maple (3985), Posey (3985); Rhoda (3985); Dalya (4684); Cedar (5666); and Forest and Forrest (both jointly 5666). Then there are names like Aster (1887) which could be either a flower name, or the Latin word for ‘star’. (Either way, we haven’t found any examples of it used in the Middle Ages as a name.)

Not every flower name is purely modern, though — Violet (53) shows up in 16th C Scotland (though the spellings Violette (1586) and Violett (4684) aren’t witnessed…yet), and forms of Viola (815) were scattered throughout Europe (though the compounds Violet-Rose (1887), Violet-Rae (3985), Violet-Grace (4684), Violet-May (4684), Violet-Ivy (5666), and Violet-Vienna are purely modern.) We haven’t found any examples of Violeta (3178) or Violetta (3178) yet, but suspect it’s only a matter of time until we do some place in Italy. Viola and Violet are Latin in origin, but the Greek root of the flower name, Yolanda (3985) was also used as a name in the Middle Ages! The Latin word for flower, flor or flos, was also itself used as a name; of the modern variants found in the ONS data, we’ve only found Flora (323) medievally; while none of Fleur (342), Florrie (843), Flossie (2340), Flori (3518), Florie (3518), or Florina (3985) have yet turned up in our data, as you can see by inspecting the entry for the name, we’ve found quite a few very similar variants! The Welsh form Fflur (1887) would, however, be atypical of medieval naming patterns.

We can’t complete our discussion of this pattern without discussing two medieval names that look like flower names but aren’t (originally). The first is name no. 13, Lily, which was originally a nickname of Elizabeth. There is little doubt that the similarity to the flower is part of why the name continues to be so popular in modern times, even if the connection with its original root name has been lost. In addition to the no. 13 spelling, the ONS also has variants Lilly (67), Lillie (189), Lilia (408), Lili (587), Lillia (990), Lilli (2340), Lilla (2901), Lilya (2901), Lilliah (3178), Liliya (3518), Liliah (3985), and Lile (5666), and compounds Liliana (177), Lillian (330), Lilian (540), Lilianna (843), Lilliana (1013), Lilly-Ann (1314), Lily-Ann (1586), Lilly-Anne (1887), Lillianna (1977), Liliane (2499), Lily-Anne (2499), Lillie-Ann (2901), Lilyana (2901), Lilien (3518), Lilyanna (3518), Lillie-Anne (3985); Lily-Anna (3985), Lilly-Anna (4684), Lillyanna (5666), Lillyanne (5666), Lilyann (5666), and Lilyanne (5666); Lily-Rose (363), Lilly-Rose (472), Lillie-Rose (1111), Lilia-Rose (3985), Lilyrose (3985), Lillia-Rose (4684), and Lilley-Rose (5666); Lily-Mae (467), Lilly-Mae (545), Lilly-May (657), Lily-May (729), Lillie-Mae (791), Lily-Mai (1436), Lilly-Mai (1887), Lillie-May (2499), Lillie-Mai (3178), Lillymay (3985), and Lilymay (5666); Lily-Grace (1272), Lilly-Grace (2187), and Lillie-Grace (2674); Lily-Rae (1586), Lilly-Rae (2187), and Lillie-Rae (2340); Lilly-Marie (3518), Lily-Marie (3518), and Lillie-Marie (3985); Lilly-Jane (3985), Lily-Jane (3985), Lilly-Jayne, Lilly-Jean, and Lily-Jayne (all jointly 5666); Liliarna (4684) and Lilliarna (5666); Lily-Belle and Lilybelle (both jointly 4684); Lillie-Jo (5666); Lilly-June (5666); Lilly-Louise (5666); and Lily-Ella (5666). (Geez. Whoever knew there were so many ways to combine Lily and Anne into one name?).

And the other name is Rose [yes, we know the link doesn’t work yet; it will be available in the next edition], which everyone thinks is from the name of the flower, but is actually of Germanic origin (though the similarity of the name to Latin rosa ‘rose’ influenced later spellings, and, as will Lily, contributed to the continued popularity of the name). In the ONS data, the diminutive Rosie comes in the most popular, at no. 26, with Rose itself being no. 55 and Rosa at no. 156. Both of these latter spellings are found in the Middle Ages, though the variant Roza (1526) is not typical of medieval spellings (we’ve found one instance of Roze in 16th C France). And while we haven’t yet found Rosie, Rosy (2340), or Rosey (3178), we have found Rosye! The diminutive Rosella (2901) is also medieval. Looking at the compounds, Rosanna (574) is — perhaps surprisingly — a medieval name, occurring once in London in 1222 (we haven’t yet finished the entry for this name); the spellings Roseanna (972), Roseanne (1977), Rosie-Ann (3518), Rose-Anne (4684), Rosie-Anne (4684), Rosanne (5666), and Roseann (5666), most influenced by the flower name, are more modern. Other compounds, such as Rosie-Mae, Rosie-May (both joint 1314), and Rosie-Mai (2499); Rosabella (1649), Rosabelle (2090), and Rosabel (5666); Rosie-Rae (3518); Rosie-Grace (4684); Rosie-Jane (4684); and Rosie-Louise (5666), and the diminutives Rosina (1343), Rosetta (2340), and Rozina (5666) are all modern as far as we can tell.

Mystery Monday: Zira/Ziros

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 we’re looking at a pair of names, because given where they are both found, and the similarity in their sound/spelling, we’re wondering if they aren’t perhaps related.

So we’ve got two examples, both from 13th C Poland, both recorded in Latin, both masculine nominative; one Zira, one Ziros. Neither of these is in a usual masculine Latin nominative format, which is a strong clue that both names are not native Latin names, and thus we should (or at least, could) look for Slavic roots. Given that neither was Latinized in the expected way (Zirus), this makes us think that the name which is being both of these instances is possibly the same name, one which does not lend itself to Latinization well, so whatever scribe is rendering it must take a stab at Latinizing it himself.

Now, the -os ending smacks very strongly of Greek declensions, which is one possible route into the Slavic name pool; however, Ziros is not itself an immediately identifiable Greek personal name — though it is the name of a lake (and of a newly formed municipality that takes its name from the lake). So that doesn’t help us very much.

Stretching out further afar, and quite a bit more tangentially, there is a modern Armenian masculine name Ժիրայր, which has a nickname Ժիրո or Žiro. Could this be related?

We’d love to know your thoughts, especially if you’ve got more expertise in Slavic names than we (currently) have!

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: Gignosa/Ginnosa

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 from 12th C France, and was one that, before we wrote this post, was utterly opaque to us:

Researching it for this post, though, led us to two more examples. One is a woman named “Barisia, cognomento Ginnosa”, wife of Rainald cognomento Barbatus, who gave money to a monastery in 1139, and another is a Gignosa, one of three daughters of Petrus Simonis (the entire family has lovely names; his wife is Helisabeth, Gignosa’s sisters are Laurentia and Aldeburgis, and their brother is Aimericus), who made a donation around 1120.

Two other relevant pieces of information that we turned up: First is the Greek word ιννος or γιννος ‘mule’, found in Chambers’s Etymological Dictionary of the English Language. The other is the occurrence of the word ginnosa in 13th-century Provencal literature, in the Romance of Flamenca, and in the Cort D’Amor. So! Do we have any southern French scholars amongst our readers? Do you recognise this word? Know what it means? Know what its root might be? Please share in the comments!

The ‘elements’ of names: Earth (part 2!)

So after we posted our first post in what was to be a four-part series (one for each element) on names involving the four elements (read Part 1: Earth), a number of people pointed out that we totally overlooked a candidate for “earth”: ‘rock, stone’!

Well, rather than feeling too sheepish and embarrassed about such an oversight, we figured we’d simply fix this by making a follow-up post. So in Earth-Part-Two we’re going to look at all the names we have that derive from an element meaning ‘rock’ or stone’.

The most classic example is, of course, Peter, deriving from Greek πέτρος ‘rock’. The most well-known bearer of the name, Peter the first Catholic pope (at least from the medieval point of view!), was given his name as a metaphor for the foundation of the church itself. As the Wycliffite translation of the Bible (1395) puts it:

And Y seie to thee, that thou art Petre, and on this stoon Y schal bilde my chirche, and the yatis of helle schulen not haue miyt ayens it. (Matthew 16:18)

As the name of a disciple and pope, Peter was enormously popular in Europe. Our earliest citation is from the end of the 7th C in Germany, and by the time we hit 1600, you can’t turn around without bumping into a Peter or three. Geographically, almost every country that has citations in the database has an example of Peter — it’s even one of the three names we find in Algeria. The popularity of the name is reflected in the diversity and quantity of pet forms witnessed:

Pär, Peczold, Peep, Peireto, Per, Pere, Pereto, Perin, Perino, Perkyn, Perocto, Peron, Perono, Peronet, Perot, Perreau, Perrecars, Perrenet, Perresson, Perreset, Perret, Perrichon, Perrin, Perrinet, Perrod, Perron, Perronet, Perrono, Perrot, Perrotin, Perrusson, Pers, Perucho, Peschel, Peschil, Peschlin, Pescho, Peschyl, Pesco, Pesko, Pesold, Pessek, Pessel, Pesshico, Pessico, Pessko, Pesslin, Pesyco, Peterl, Pethe, Peto, Petrecono, Petreman, Petrezolo, Petricono, Petrin, Petrino, Petriolo, Petrocho, Petrocino, Petrono, Petrosino, Petrussio, Petruche, Petrucio, Petrutio, Piep, Pierel, Pieren, Pieret, Pierozo Pierren, Pierron, Pierrot, Pyotrussa

Of course, given the popularity of the masculine name, it’s no surprise that the feminine form, Petra was also relatively widespread throughout medieval Europe (although it was rare before the late 13th C). What might be surprising is that with one exception, all of our examples are of diminutive forms — too many to list here. Another name that needs to be mentioned in this context is the feminine name Petronilla. The root of this name is the Roman nomen Petronius. Petronius itself may possibly derive from the same Greek root; but it is not clear that it does. Nevertheless, medievally the name was treated as a feminine form of Peter, and it was moderately popular throughout England, France, and the Low Countries, with a handful of examples also turning up in Germany, Italy, Spain, and Switzerland.

But Greek isn’t the only language to have given us rocky names! We also have two Germanic/Scandinavian elements meaning ‘rock ” or ‘stone’ that were used in monothematic and dithematic names: Old Icelandic hallr ‘rock, stone’, found in the compound Haldor; and Proto-Germanic *stainaz ‘stone’, which gave rise to Old Icelandic steinn, Old English stān, Old Frisian, Old Saxon, and Old Dutch stēn, and Old High German stein.

This latter element was quite a popular element, both as a prototheme and as a deuterotheme:

Country	Prototheme	Deuterotheme
England		Alfstan, Brihtstan, Dunstan, Goldstone, Thorsten, Wulfstan
Estonia		Thorsten
France	Steinhard	Thorsten
Germany	Steinhard
Iceland		Thorsten
Ireland		Dunstan, Thorsten
Norway		Thorsten
Scotland		Thorsten
Sweden	Steinarr	Holmsten, Thorsten

The element itself was also used as a standalone, monothematic name: Sten. We have examples from Finland, France, and Sweden.

We could also stretch the definition of “earth” as far as names derived from precious stones, but perhaps we’ll draw the line here and save those for another post on their own sometime!

Book haul!

We were back at the International Medieval Congress in Leeds this last week, and came away with a book haul that is worth devoting a post to:

The Assize of Bread Book, 1477-1517 is a record from Southampton regarding fines related to selling poor-quality bread. It’s a mix of Latin, (Anglo-)French, and Middle/Early Modern English — sometimes all in the same entry so that we get to play “What’s the matrix language?” with records such as this:

Alysawne Chayne vendyt a John Debarde xxviij die ffebr’

(In passing, isn’t Alysawne an absolutely delicious form of Alison?)

Not directly onomastics, but welcome for background research, is Glossaire de la Langue d’Oïl (XIe-XIV siècles), published in France in 1891. It’s been rebound in a beautiful tooled leather binding, and we are not above noting that this played a role in our choice to acquire it!

What do Anschetillus, Daniel, Wimundus, Aelais, Evardus, Hugo, Tustinus, Serlo, Gauterius, and Regnarius all have in common? They’re all Norman names found in the late 12th C, in the Charters and Custumals of the Abbey of Holy Trinity, Caen: Part 2, the French Estates.

From a century later and across the channel, we have The Warwickshire Hundred Rolls of 1279-80: Stoneleigh and Kineton Hundreds. The late 13th century isn’t the most exciting of times, onomastically, in England, but we look forward to a good crop of solid names.

One of the fascinating things about looking at early records is watching Latin develop into vernaculars; sometimes you can be reading a charter for awhile before realizing “hey, wait, I’m not exactly sure WHICH language this is in.” Such is the case for many of the charters in Foundations of Crusader Valencia, Revolt & Recovery, 1257-1263: Diplomatarium of the Crusader Kingdom of Valencia, where Latin bleeds into Spanish and the documents will fill a gap we have in terms of names from 13th C Iberia.

Providing us with a wealth of Scottish material is the two-volume Liber Protocollorum with the Rental Book of Diocese of Glasgow. Did you know that the most typical Scots spelling of John was Jhon? It will be fun to see this book give up its treasures — quite literally, as many of the pages in these volumes haven’t been cut!

The last book is truly amazing — a very detailed edition and commentary on A Sixth-century Tax Register from the Hermpololite Nome — aka Coptic/Greek names from Egypt! Look for this in a Dictionary edition coming soon (just as soon as we figure out the most efficient way to enter names in a non-Roman alphabet!)