CORRUPTIONS AND CONTRACTIONS.

Corruptions may be divided broadly into two kinds, those which proceed from a desire to improve the sound of a name, and those which proceed from a desire to make some kind of sense out of it. The former, which we may call phonetic, generally consists in the introduction of a letter, either to give more of what we may call "backbone" to a word, or else to make it run more smoothly. For the former purpose b or p is often used—thus we have, even in Anglo-Saxon times, trum made into trump, sem into semp, and emas into embas. So among our names we have Dumplin, no doubt for Dumlin (O.G. Domlin), Gamble for Gamel, and Ambler for Ameler, though in these names something of both the two principles may apply. In a similar manner we have glas made into glast in GlÆstingabyrig, now Glastonbury (p. 88). So d seems sometimes to be brought in to strengthen the end of a word, and this, it appears to me, may be the origin of our names Field, Fielding, Fielder. The forms seem to show an ancient stem, but as the word stands, it is difficult to make anything out of it, whereas, as Fiell, Fielling, &c., the names would fall in with a regular stem, as at p. 50. So also our name Hind may perhaps be the same, assuming a final d, as another name, Hine, which, presuming the h not to be organic, may be from the unexplained stem in or ine, as in the name of Ina, King of Wessex. In which case Hyndman might be the same name as Inman. Upon the same principle it may be that we have the name Nield formed upon the Celtic Niel. So also f appears to be sometimes changed for a similar purpose into p, as in Asprey and Lamprey for Asfrid (or Osfrid) and Landfrid. The ending frid commonly becomes frey (as in Godfrey, Humphrey, Geoffrey), and when we have got Asfrey and Lanfrey (and we have Lanfrei in the Liber VitÆ), the rest is easy.

The most common phonetic intrusion is that of r, and one of the ways in which it most frequently occurs is exhibited in the following group of names: Pendgast, Pendegast, Prendergast, Prendergrass. Pendgast is, I take it, an ancient compound, from the stem bend (p. 44), with gast, hospes. It first takes a medial vowel between the two words of the compound, and becomes Pend-e-gast. Then e naturally becomes er, passing the very slight barrier which English pronunciation affords, and the name, having become Pendergast, finds the need of a second r to balance the first, and becomes Prendergast. In the last name, Prendergrass, the other principle comes in, and a slight effort is made to give a shade of meaning to the word.[43] One of the features in men's names, it will be seen, is that as they have (differently to what is the case with regard to the words of the language) become crystallised in all stages, one is sometimes permitted to see the various steps of a process.

Now it is in such a way as that described above that the Anglo-Saxon name Ealdermann (whence our name Alderman) has, according to my opinion, been formed. There is another Anglo-Saxon name, Ealdmann, an ancient compound. Now if you, as in the previous case, introduce a medial vowel, and make it Eald-e-mann, there is virtually nothing left between that and Ealdermann. Such a name, as derived from the office, would be impossible as a regular Anglo-Saxon name. The only other alternative would be that he had been so called as a sobriquet by his office till it had superseded his regular name. And there does appear to have been such a case, viz., that of a man called Preost who was a priest, but the way which I have suggested seems to me to account more easily for the name. From a similar origin I take to be our name Ackerman, and the present German Ackermann. There is an Anglo-Saxon Æcemann (p. 96), from which, on the principle described above, they might be derived. So also Sigournay may be formed in a similar manner from an old German name Siginiu (niu, "new," perhaps in the sense of "young"), and Alderdice from an old Frankish Aldadeus (deus, servant).

I have taken Prendergast for Pendgast as an illustration of the intrusion of r, and there is even in Anglo-Saxon times an example of the very same word as so treated. This is the name Prentsa (p. 101), (whence our Prentiss), and which I take to be properly Pentsa. This would bring it in as a regular Anglo-Saxon stem (Cf. Penda, Pender, Penduald, Pendwine), whereas otherwise it is difficult to know what to make of it. Among English surnames thus treated we have Bellringer for Bellinger, Sternhold for Stonhold (p. 63), Proudfoot for Puddefoot (bud, messenger), and possibly Cardwell for the Anglo-Saxon Cadweal.[44] On the same principle I think that Wordsworth, a name of local origin, may be, with an intrusive r, the same as Wodsworth or Wadsworth (Wad's property or estate). There is certainly a stem wurd (supposed to mean fate, destiny), in ancient names, but it is of rare occurrence, and I do not know of it in English names, though we have Orde, which I take to be from the Scandinavian form of it. On the other hand we have an instance in Anglo-Saxon times of the reverse process, viz., the elision of r, in the case of Wihtbrord, Minister of Edward the Elder, who, though he spells his names both ways, spells it more frequently Wihtbrod, the other being no doubt etymologically the correct form (brord, sword), though euphony is certainly promoted by the elision. This may probably be the origin of our name Whitbread, with the variation Wheatbread.

The intrusion of d has had the effect of changing a man's name into a woman's in two cases, Mildred and Kindred. The former should be properly Milred, answering to an Anglo-Saxon Milred, and the latter should be Kenred, answering to the German Conrad; Mildryd and Cynedryd were, and could only be, Anglo-Saxon women's names.

On the other hand, the loss of an r has had such a disastrous effect in the case of an American Bedbug as to compel him to apply, like his English namesake, for a change of name. For while, in America, all insects of the beetle tribe are called by the name of "bug," the "bedbug" is that particular insect which is a "terror by night," so that the name was pointedly disagreeable. It ought properly to be, I doubt not, Bedburg, a name of local origin, and the same as Bedborough.

Before going on to deal with the corruptions which originate in the desire to make some kind of sense out of a name, I propose to refer briefly to some of the changes and contractions which are more strictly in accordance with regular phonetic principles. I have referred at p. 9 to a final g as opposed to the English ear, and to two different ways in which it is got rid of, viz., by changing it into dg, and by dropping it altogether. There is yet a third way, that of changing it into f, as in Anglo-Saxon genug, English enough. And we can show examples of all these in the same name, from the ancient stem wag, probably signifying to wave, brandish, as in the name Wagbrand ("wave-sword"), in the genealogy of the Northumbrian kings. For we have the name in all four forms, Wagg, Way, Wadge, Waugh (Waff). The common ending in Teutonic names of wig, war, often, anciently even, softened into wi, most commonly in such case becomes in our names way. Thus we have Alloway from an ancient Alewih, Chattoway from Ceatewe, Dalloway from Daliweh, Galloway from Geilwih, Garroway from Gerwi, Hathaway from Hathuwi, Kennaway from Kenewi, Lanoway from Lantwih, Reddoway from Redwi, and Ridgway from Ricwi. I cite this as a case in which a number of coincidences prove a principle, which the reader, if he confined his attention to one particular case, might be disposed to question. We also generally drop the g in the middle of a word in such names as Payne, from A.S. Pagen,[45] Wain from A.S. Wahgen, Gain from A.S. Gagen, Nail from A.S. Negle. So also in Sibbald for Sigebald, Sibert for Sigebert, Seymore for Sigimar, Wyatt for Wighad, &c. There is also a frequent dropping of d, though I think that in this case the names have more frequently come down to us from ancient times in such contracted form, the practice being more specially common among the Franks, from whom I think that most of the names in question have been derived. Thus we have Cobbold for Codbald or Godbold, Cobbett for Godbet or Codbet, Lucas (Lucas, Lib. Vit.), from a Frankish Liucoz for Liudgoz, Boggis from a Boggis for Bodgis, Lewis for Leodgis, Rabbit for Radbod, Chabot for Chadbod. So also Ralph and Rolfe for Radulf and Hrodulf (though also for Ragulf and Hrogulf), Roland for Rodland, Roman for Rodman, &c. So f is often dropped when it is followed by m or n, as in A.S. Leomman for Leofmann, whence our Lemon. It is probable that our Limmer is a similar contraction of A.S. Leofmer.

As a case of transposition I may note Falstaff from, as supposed, the O.G. name Fastulf. It may be a question whether this is not an Old Frankish name come to us through the Normans, for at Gambetta's funeral the French Bar was represented by M. Falsteuf.

I now come to corruptions which arise from the attempt to give to a name something of an apparent meaning in English. Let me observe that, almost as an invariable rule, corruptions are made towards a meaning and not away from it; the ancient name Irminger might be corrupted into Ironmonger, but Ironmonger could not be corrupted into Irminger. It is natural to men to try to get some semblance of meaning out of a name, and all the more that it approaches to something which has a familiar sound to their ears. Thus H.M. ship, the Bellerophon, was called by the sailors the "Billy Ruffian," and a vessel owned by a fore-elder of mine, and which he christened the Agomemnon, invariably went among the sailors by the name of the "Mahogany Tom." Thus the Anglo-Saxon Trumbald has first become Trumbull and then Tremble, and as suggested by Mr. Charnock, Turnbull. So we have the Old Norse name Thorgautr (Turgot, Domesday) variously made into Target and into Thoroughgood.[46] In some cases a very slight change suffices to give a new complexion to the name, thus the Old Frankish Godenulf, (ulf, wolf), through a Norman Godeneuf, is scarcely changed in our Goodenough. Similarly we might have had Badenough (O.G. Badanulf), and Richenough (A.S. Ricnulf). We have Birchenough (reminding us of Dr. Busby) no doubt from a name of similar formation not yet turned up. Then we have several names as Garment, Rayment, Argument, Element, Merriment, Monument, from ancient names ending in mund or munt, supposed to mean protection, with only the change of a letter. I have referred in an earlier part of this chapter to the name Pendgast, and to the phonetic corruptions to which it has been subjected. But it seems also to have been subjected to a corruption of the other kind, for I take it that our name Pentecost is properly Pentecast, as another or High German form of Pendegast. Another case of a corruption easily made is that of our name Whitethread which seems obviously the Anglo-Saxon name WihtrÆd, of which also we have another obvious corruption in Whiterod. So also the Anglo-Saxon name Weogern, p. 111 (more properly Wiggern, wig, war, and gern, eager), by an easy transition becomes Waghorn. And in this way also the paradoxical-looking name Fairfoul, by a slight change of spelling, may be explained as Farefowl, "wandering bird," as a name probably given by the Saxon or Danish sea-rovers.

Let us take a name of a different kind, Starbuck, no doubt of local origin, from the place called Starbeck in Yorkshire. Now beck is a Northern word signifying brook; it is probably of Danish origin, inasmuch as its use precisely corresponds with the limits of the Danish occupation. So long then as Starbeck lived in the north among his own people, to whom beck is a familiar word, there would be no fear of his name being corrupted. But when he migrated to a part of England where beck has no meaning, then by and by the natural craving for some kind of a meaning would assert itself, and, as the best it could do, change beck into buck. But the name of the place itself affords an illustration of the same principle. For star is in all probability the same word as stour, so common as a river-name (Arm. ster, water, river), made into star in the craving for some kind of a meaning.

Let us take another name with the same ending, Clutterbuck, also, I doubt not, a name of local origin, though I am unable in this case to identify the place. But clutter seems evidently to be from the Anglo-Saxon, hluttor, clear, pure, limpid, and the word must have been hluttorbeck, "clear brook," so that this is another case of a similar corruption. The Anglo-Saxons, no doubt, strongly aspirated the initial h, so that the name has become Clutterbuck.

Another name which may be taken to be of the same kind is Honeybun, no doubt a corruption of another name Honeyburn, from burn, a brook, honey being apparently used by the Anglo-Saxons as an epithet to describe sweet waters. But to the modern ear Honeybun is a much more natural association than Honeyburn, particularly since the Anglo-Saxon burn for brook has passed out of use in England.

Among the Germans, corruptions towards a meaning are also common, as in such names as Guttwein for Godwine or Gotwine, Warmbadt for Warinbod, Leutenant for Liutnand (liud, people, nant, daring). There is a curious-looking and seemingly profane name Heiliggheist, as if from the third person of the Trinity, which may, however, be a corruption of an ancient name, perhaps of the name Haldegast.

The odd-looking names Oyster and Oysterman in Suffolk Surnames are probably the German names Oster and Ostermann (oster, orientalis) in an anglicised form, the marvellous power of assimilation possessed by the great Republic evincing itself, among other things, in the way in which it anglicises foreign names. Thus the name Crumpecker, placed by Bowditch among names from birds, is, we can hardly doubt, a corruption of a German Krumbacher, i.e. "a native of Krumbach," of which name there are several places in Germany. So also the ending thaler in German names, from thal, valley, is changed into "dollar" as its supposed equivalent. Hence the Americans have Milldolar, Barndollar, and Cashdollar, corruptions of some such German names as MÜhlthaler, Bernthaler, and KÄsenthaler, signifying an inhabitant respectively of MÜhlthal, of Bernthal, and of KÄsenthal. It would seem as if a man coming to this new world, where everything around him is changed—presumably for the better—accepts it as, among other things, a part of the new dispensation, that whereas his name has hitherto been, say KÄsenthaler, he shall henceforth answer to the name—perhaps not an inauspicious one—of Cashdollar.