Beasts
Among beast nicknames we find special attention given, as in modern vituperation, to the swine, although we do not find this true English word, unless it be occasionally disguised as Swain. Hogg does not belong exclusively to this class, as it is used in dialect both of a young sheep and a yearling colt. Anglo-Sax. sugu, sow, survives in Sugg. Purcell is Old Fr. pourcel (pourceau), dim. of Lat. porcus, and I take Pockett to be a disguised form of the obsolete porket—
“Porculus, a pygg: a shoote: a porkes.”
(Cooper.)
The word shoote in the above gloss is now the dialect shot, a young pig, which may have given the surname Shott. But Scutt is from a Mid. English adjective meaning short—
“Scute, or shorte, curtus, brevis”
(Prompt. Parv.)—
and is also an old name for the hare. Two other names for the pig are the northern Galt and the Lincolnshire Grice—
“Marcassin, a young wild boare; a shoot or grice.” (Cotgrave.)
Grice also represents le gris, the grey; cf. Grace for le gras (Chapter XXII). Bacon looks like a nickname, but is invariably found without the article. As it is common in French, it would appear to be an Old French accusative to Back, going back to Germanic Bacco (Chapter XIII). Hinks is Mid. Eng. hengst, a stallion, and is thus identical with Hengist (Chapter XX). Stott means both a bullock and a nag (Chapter XIX).
Everyone remembers Wamba’s sage disquisition on the names of animals in the first chapter of Ivanhoe. Like much of Scott’s archaeology it is somewhat anachronistic, for the live animals were also called veals and muttons for centuries after Wamba’s death
“Mouton, a mutton, a weather”; “veau, a calfe, or veale.” (Cotgrave.)
Calf has become very rare as a surname, though Kalb is still common in Germany. Bardsley regards Duncalf and Metcalf as perverted from dun-croft and meadow-croft. It seems possible that they may be for down-calf and mead-calf, from the locality of the pasture, but this is a pure guess on my part. It is curious that beef does not appear to have survived, though Leboeuf is common in French, and bullocks are still called “beeves” in Scotland. Tegg is still used by butchers for a two-year-old sheep. Palsgrave gives it another meaning—
“Tegg, or pricket (Chapter XXII), saillant.”
Roe is also found in the older forms Rae and Ray, of course confused with Wray (Chapter XIII), as Roe itself is with Rowe (Chapter I). Doe often becomes Dowe. Hind is usually occupative (Chapter III), but Fr. Labiche suggests that it must sometimes be a nickname—
“Biche, a hind; the female of a stagge.” (Cotgrave.)
Pollard was applied to a beast or stag that had lost its horns—
“He has no horns, sir, has he?
“No, sir, he’s a pollard.”
(Beaumont and Fletcher, Philaster, v. 4.)
Leverett is certified by the French surname Levrault. Derivation from Lever, Anglo-Sax. Leofhere, whence Levers, Leverson, or Leveson, is much less probable, as these Anglo-Saxon names rarely form dims. (Chapter VII). Luttrel is in French Loutrel, perhaps a dim. of loutre, otter, Lat. lutra. From the medieval lutrer or lutrarius, otter hunter, we get Lutterer, no doubt confused with the musical Luter.
While Catt is fairly common in the eastern counties, Robertus le chien and Willelmus le curre, who were living about the end of the twelfth century, are now completely disguised as Ken and Kerr. Modern French has both Lechien and the Norman Lequien. 1 We owe a few other surnames to the friend of man. Kennett, from a Norman dim. of chien, meant greyhound—
“Kenette, hounde, leporarius.” (Prompt. Parv.)
The origin of the name Talbot is unknown, and it is uncertain whether the hound or the family should have precedence; but Chaucer seems to use it as the proper name of a hound
“Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland,
And Malkyn, with a dystaf in hir hand.”
(B, 4573.)
The great Earl of Shrewsbury is affectionately called “Talbot, our good dogge” in political rimes of the fifteenth century.
In early dictionaries may be found long lists of the fanciful names, such as Bright, Lightfoot, Ranger, Ringwood, Swift, Tempest, given to hounds. This practice seems to throw some light on such surnames as Tempest, with which we may compare the German names Storm and Sturm. In the Pipe Rolls the name le esturmi, the stormy, occurs several times. To the same class belongs Thunder, found in the Pipe Rolls as Tonitruus, and not therefore necessarily a perversion of Tunder, i.e. Sherman (Chapter XVIII)—
“Tondeur de draps, a shearman, or clothworker.” (Cotgrave.)
Garland, used by Chaucer as a dog’s name, was earlier graland, and, as le garlaund is also found, it may be referred to Old Fr. grailler, to trumpet. It no doubt has other origins.
We should expect Fox to be strongly represented, and we find the compounds Colfox and Stelfox. The first means black fox—
“A colfox ful of sly iniquitee”
(B, 4405)—
and I conjecture that the first part of Stelfox is connected with stealing, as in the medieval name Stele-cat—
“The two constables made a thorough search and found John Stelfox hiding behind some bushes. Some of the jewellery was found upon him”
(Daily Chronicle, June 3, 1913).
In the north a fox is called Tod, whence Todhunter. This Tod is probably a personal name, like the French Renard and the Scottish Lawrie or Lowrie, applied to the same animal. Allan Ramsay calls him “slee Tod Lowrie.” From the badger we have Brock and sometimes Gray—
Blaireau, a badger, gray, boason, brock (Cotgrave)—
but Badger itself is occupative (Chapter XIX). The polecat survives as Fitch, Fitchett, and Fitchew—
“Fissau, a filch, or fulmart.”
(Cotgrave.)
Notes
1 Lekain, the name of a famous French actor, has the same origin.