Perversions of Foreign Names
In the returns made outside the bounds of the city proper the aliens have added their own signatures, or in some cases made their marks. Jacob Alburtt signs himself as Jacob Elbers, and Croft Castell as Kraft Kassels. Harman James is the official translation of Hermann Jacobs, Mary Miller of Marija Moliner, and John Young of Jan le Jeune. Gyllyam Spease, for Wilbert Spirs, seems to be due to a Welsh constable, and Chrystyan Wyhelhames, for Cristian Welselm, looks like a conscientious attempt at Williams. One registrar, with a phonetic system of his own, has transformed the Dutch Moll into the more familiar Maule, and has enriched his list with Jannacay Yacopes for Jantje Jacobs. Lowe Luddow, who signs himself Louij Ledou, seems to be Louis Ledoux. An alien who writes himself Jann Eisankraott (Ger. Eisenkraut? ) cannot reasonably complain plain at being transformed into John Isacrocke, but the substitution of John Johnson for Jansen Vandrusen suggests that this individual’s case was taken at the end of a long day’s work.
These examples, taken at random, show how the French and Flemish names of the humbler refugees lost their foreign appearance. In many cases the transformation was etymologically justified. Thus, some of our Druitts and Drewetts may be descended from Martin Druett, the first name on the list. But this is probably the common French name Drouet or Drouot, assimilated to the English Druitt, which we find in 1273. And both are diminutives of Drogo, which occurs in Domesday Book, and is, through Old French, the origin of our Drew. But in many cases the name has been so deformed that one can only guess at the continental original. I should conjecture, for instance, that the curious name Shoppee is a corruption of Chappuis, the Old French for a carpenter, and that Jacob Shophousey, registered as a German cutler, came from Schaffhausen. In this particular region of English nomenclature a little guessing is almost excusable. The law of probabilities makes it mathematically certain that the horde of immigrants included representatives of all the very common French family names, and it would be strange if Chappuis were absent.
This process of transformation is still going on in a small way, especially in our provincial manufacturing towns, in which most large commercial undertakings have slipped from the nerveless grasp of the Anglo-Saxon into the more capable and prehensile fingers of the foreigner—
“Hilda then learnt that Mrs. Gailey had married a French modeller named Canonges... and that in course of time the modeller had informally changed the name to Cannon, because no one in the five towns could pronounce the true name rightly.”
(Arnold Bennett, Hilda Lessways, i. 5.)
This occurs most frequently in the case of Jewish names of German origin. Thus, Löwe becomes Lowe or Lyons, Meyer is transformed into Myers, Goldschmid into Goldsmith, Kohn into Cowan, Levy into Lee or Lewis, Salamon into Salmon, Hirsch or Hertz into Hart, and so on. Sometimes a bolder flight is attempted—
“Leopold Norfolk Gordon had a house in Park Lane, and ever so many people’s money to keep it up with. As may be guessed from his name, he was a Jew.”
(Morley Roberts, Lady Penelope, ch. ii.)