Alfred and the cakes, Cnut and the waves, and Eadmer the flying monk: Anglo-Saxon history is full of anecdotes. On this blog I will regularly highlight some amusing and/or remarkable episodes from early medieval England, along with a selfmade cartoon. This blog discusses the time when a peasant beheaded himself.
The Vita S. Ecgwini (VSE) is an account of the life of Ecgwine, bishop of Worcester (?693–717) and founder of Evesham Abbey. The Latin text has been dated to after the year 1016 and is ascribed to the Anglo-Saxon monk and scholar Byrhtferth of Ramsey. This saint’s life is full of miraculous tales, including the story of how a long-lost key was found in the innards of a fish, and the story of how a farmer had a vision of Mary in the hiding place of his sow. The tale that struck me most, however, was the tale of the Anglo-Saxon peasant that beheaded himself.
Off with my head!
One day, a certain peasant, “fattened on worldy wealth” (VSE, iv. 10, trans. Lapidge 2009), claimed a substantial part of the land which belonged to the monastery of Evesham. Wigred, the prior of that same monastery, decided that the matter would be settled by having both the peasant and himself claim the land by means of an oath on the relics of Saint Ecgwine. The relics were placed in the middle of the land which both the prior and the peasant claimed to own:
When the peasant came forward to swear his oath, he felt quite confident, since he “had craftily taken a bit of dirt from his own dwelling and put it – at the devil’s instigation – in his shoe. […] He sought to act fraudulently to this end, that through this soil he might be able to swear that he was standing on his own land” (VSE, iv. 10, trans. Lapidge 2009). A nice trick!
Before swearing his oath, the peasant confidently raised up his weapons in the air. That’s when God intervened:
That madman was in utter rage; he even raised up his weapons and his arrogant right hand, with which he intended to fix fiercely in the ground the scythe which he was carrying in his hand; but the just judge did not wish it so: “He directed the suffering on to his head, and the malice on to his skull” [cf. Psalm 7:17]. That rascal fixed the shaft of the scythe so strongly in the ground that with the one blow he cut off his own foul head and neck – not making of himself a martyr for Christ’s love, but dismissing himself from this life, the devil gaining the victory. (VSE, iv.10, trans. Lapidge 2009)
And that’s how a greedy peasant lost his own head so that the monks of Evesham could hold on to the land that was rightfully theirs.
If you liked this post, you may also enjoy:
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: Dreaming of witch-wives, fiery pitchforks and the Battle of Fulford
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: The Battle of the Birds, 671
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: How beer and bees beat the Viking siege of Chester in c. 907
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: Earl Siward and the Proper Ways to Die
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: The Real Night of the Long Knives
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: How Hengest was led by the nose
- An Anglo-Saxon Anecdote: Alleluia, the Anglo-Saxon Boo!
Stay tuned for more illustrated Anglo-Saxon anecdotes in the future!
- Lapidge, M., ed. and trans., Byrthferth of Ramsey: The Lives of St. Oswald and St. Ecgwine (Oxford, 2009).
A family bond that has left very little traces in the Anglo-Saxon record is the relationship between grandmothers and their grandchildren. In this blog post, I discuss the evidence from Anglo-Saxon wills in order to shed some light on the role of grannies in early medieval England.
Grandmother-less in Anglo-Saxon England
The Old English gloss ealdemodor for Latin aua in the margins of British Library, Add. 32246 is only one of three occurrences of this Old English word with the sense ‘grandmother’ (see Dictionary of Old English A to H Online, s.v. ealdemodor). The word grandmother itself did not exist in Anglo-Saxon England: according to the Oxford English Dictionary Online (s.v. grandmother), the word is first attested in a will from 1424, in the phrase “Þan shall he be left..grauntmoderles” [then he shall be left grandmother-less]. This first occurrence in the OED, in a way, encapsulates the presence of grandmothers in (early) medieval England. Indeed, while most of the literary and documentary record of the Anglo-Saxons is almost ‘grandmother-less’, early medieval wills are the best place to find them (as well as many other interesting things).
Athelstan Ætheling, raised by his grandmother
The will of Athelstan Ætheling (full text here), drawn up on his deathbed on 25 June 1014, reveals that grandmothers could play a role in the upbringing of their grandchildren. Athelstan, eldest son of Æthelred II (d. 1016), declared that everything that he had granted to God and the Church was to benefit not only the souls of himself and his father, but also that of “Ælfþryðe minre ealdemodor þe me afedde” [Ælfthryth (d. 1000/1001), my grandmother, who raised me]. Remarkably, Athelstan does not mention his mother Ælfgifu of York, (d. 1002) who had died only two years before. This Ælfgifu probably bore Æthelred more than ten (!) children and it may, therefore, not be too far-fetched to hypothesise that she handed over some (or most) of the parenting responsibilities to her mother-in-law Ælfthryth.
Since his grandmother had long died before Athelstan drew up his will, she was obviously not among his beneficiaries. Most of his most precious belongings seem to have gone to his brother Edmund (Ironside). The following bequest stands out: “ic geann Eadmunde minon breðer þæs swurdes þe Offa cyng ahte” [I give to Edmund my brother the sword which King Offa owned]. Apparently, Athelstan had a sword that had once belonged to King Offa of Mercia (d. 796): by that time , the sword would have been over two hundred years old!
Grandmother’s family jewels in the will of Wulfric Spott
The third (and last) occurrence of the Old English word ealdemodor is found in the will of the Anglo-Saxon nobleman Wulfric Spott (d. 1004; full text here). The word features in his bequest to his god-daughter (also his niece) of some land at Stretton and “ðone bule þe wæs hire ealdermoder” [the brooch which was her grandmother’s]. While his god-daughter was probably touched by the receipt of this family jewel, she may have felt that this gift paled in comparison to what Wulfric’s next beneficiary received: the monastery of Burton was gifted with “an hund wildra horsa . 7 sextena tame hencgestas” [one hundred wild horses and sixteen tame stallions].
Another interesting feature of this will is its closing formula that threatens excommunication to whomever would alter Wulfric’s dying wishes:
God ælmihtig hine awende of eallum godes dreame 7 of ealra cristenra gemanan se ðe þis awende butan hit minan cynehlaford sy 7 ic hopyge to him swa godan 7 swa mildheortan þæt he hit nylle sylf don ne eac nanum oþrum menn geþafian.
[And may God turn away from all God’s joy and from the communion of all Christians whomever changes this, unless it is my own king and I hope that he will be so good and so mild-hearted that he will not want to do it himself nor allow any other man to do it.]
By the way, the ‘Spott’ in Wulfric Spott is a nickname, which probably means something like ‘spotty’. For more Old English nicknames, see Anglo-Saxon bynames: Old English nicknames from the Domesday Book.
Spoiled by granny: Wynflæd’s bequests to her grandchildren
Not only do grandmothers get an occasional mention in Anglo-Saxon wills, at least one grandmother wrote her own will: Wynflæd, an Anglo-Saxon noblewoman who died around 950 (full text here). This will provides further evidence of grandmothers taking an interest in the well-being of their children’s children.
Like your typical grandmother, Wynflaed spoiled her grandkids rotten: not by stuffing them with food, but by showering them with lands, slaves, and other gifts. Her grandchildren, Eadwold and “hyre syna dehter” [her son’s daughter] Eadgifu, also got to share “hyre taman hors” [her tame horses]. A gift especially intended for her grandson shows Wynflæd’s consideration for his stature and ornamental display: “goldfagan teowenan cuppan þæt he ice his beah mid þam golde” [a gold-adorned wooden cup so that he [Eadwold] may enlarge his armring with the gold]. Likewise, her granddaughter Eadgifu may have had a special place in Wynflæd’s heart, as she bequeathed the girl with the very best of her linen:
“hyre betsþe bedwahrift 7 linnenne ruwan 7 eal þæt bedref þe þærto gebyreð 7 … hyre betstan dunnan tunecan 7 hyre beteran mentel 7 hyre twa treowenan gesplottude cuppan 7 hyre ealdan gewiredan preon is an VI mancussum.”
[her best bed-curtain and a linen covering and all the bed-clothes which go with it and … her best dun tunic, and her better cloak, and her two wooden spotted cups , and her old wired brooch which is worth six mancuses.]
It is interesting to note here that, like the goddaughter of Wulfric Spott, Wynflæd’s granddaughter gets her grandmother’s brooch – was this perhaps an Anglo-Saxon grandmother-to-granddaughter tradition?
Like the Old English gloss ealdemodor mentioned at the start of this post, references to grandmothers are hard to find. These Anglo-Saxon wills , however, show clearly that early medieval grandmothers had a role to play in the lives of their grandchildren, if only by bestowing them with gifts.
If you liked this post, you may also like:
- Growing Old among the Anglo-Saxons (information about my PhD thesis on old age in Anglo-Saxon England)
- How to cook your dragon and a medieval cure for old age (anti-aging, the medieval way)
- Wealthy Wynflæd’s wonderful will (an interesting blog about Wynflæd’s will by Kate Thomas
For a bonus question on one of my Old English literature exams, my students used their artistic talents to draw scenes from the Old English poem Judith. Together, these doodles cover almost the entire poem and document how well (or how badly) my students remembered the poem.
Drawings have long since been used for the purpose of teaching (for an example from the Anglo-Saxon period see Teaching the Passion to the Anglo-Saxons: An early medieval comic strip in the St Augustine Gospels). On occasion, I use my own drawings to spice up my lectures (such as my Anglo-Saxon Anecdotes) or to explain complicated bits of Anglo-Saxon literature (e.g., The Freoðuwebbe and the Freswael: A Comic Strip Reconstruction of the Finnsburg Fragment and Episode). In recent years, I have decided to turn the tables on my students and, for a bonus point (worth 1% of the exam grade), I have them draw scenes from Old English poems, discussed in class.
While the exercise was intended as a bit of a gag, their doodles actually allowed me to see which events from the poem had captured their interest; how they (mis)remembered certain passages and which scenes, apparently, made no impact on them at all. In previous blog posts, I shared their renditions of The Battle of Maldon (The Battle of Maldon: A Student Doodle Edition) and the fight between Beowulf and the dragon (Beowulf vs the Dragon: A Student Doodle Edition) . Below follows a selection of my students’ drawings that deal with the Old English poem Judith, along with some commentary.
i) It all started with a party…
The Old English Judith is an Anglo-Saxon verse adaptation of the Old Testament book of Judith 12:10-16:1, narrating how the Hebrew city of Bethulia is besieged by the Assyrian warlord Holofernes. The Hebrew widow Judith plans to go to the Assyrian camp where Holofernes and his men are getting drunk. “This party is going to lose me my head if I drink anymore of this ale”, Holofornes says in one of my student’s renditions: a nice way to foreshadow what will eventually happen to the Assyrian overlord.
Judith is summoned to Holofernes and arrives looking as beautiful as an elf: “ides ælfscinu” [l. 14a: a woman as shining as an elf]. What do elves look like? Well, according to the next student, elven-beauty involves “lucious lips and a little neckline that is a little too low” and “batting eyelashes”:
ii) Off with his head!
When Holofernes and Judith end up in his tent, the intoxicated Holofernes quickly falls asleep. Judith picks up the Assyrian’s sword and cuts off his head in two strokes, not one:
The following student also drew a picture of Judith and Holofernes’s decapitated head. She could not remember his name and, naturally, she compensated with a nice Old English-ish poem which features structural alliteration of “h”:
He had a huge hairy head
That she now held in her hand
How horrible he was
So headless he is now
What a happy history.
iii) A handmaiden holds the door!
Some students remembered that Judith was not the only woman in the room: her handmaiden was on the look-out and we can see her smiling mischiveously in this colourful doodle, while Judith wickedly holds the blade she used to cut off Holofernes’s head:
iv) Bag it up!
While Holofernes, as the Anglo-Saxon poet assures us, is suffering the torments in Hell, Judith and her handmaiden still need to get out of the Assyrian camp. Since they want to bring Holofernes’s head with them, they put the head in a bag.
The next student doodle illustrates that God (who is looking on from a cloud above) agrees with these proceedings:
v) Putting the head on display
Judith emerges from Holofernes’s tent (or “meet hall” as this student would have it) and goes back to her city, where she shows the bloodied head to her people.
She delivers an incredible victory speech in the poem and her warriors respond as you would excpect: “Yay!”
vi) The case of the golden flynet
Throughout the Old English poem, references are made to an “eallgylden fleohnet” [ll. 46b-47a: an all-golden flynet], which separate Holofernes’s tent from the outside world. It is a special flynet, because Holofernes could use it to look through it from the inside, but no one was able to look into the tent from the outside. The flynet plays an important role in the poem, because it allows Judith and her handmaiden to kill Holofernes without anyone outside noticing it.
My students also caught on to the rather amusing role that the flynet plays after Holofernes has been killed. Roused by Judith’s victory speech, the Hebrews attack the Assyrians. The Assyrians, in turn, desperately try to wake up Holofernes. Because no one dares to enter the tent and because the flynet prevents them from looking in, they start to cough, gnash their teeth and so on. A rather humorous scene, which is captured nicely by the following doodles:
On the whole, my students appear to have remembered many details of the poem, ranging from the intoxicating drinking feast, to the helpful handmaiden and the fabulous flynet. The name of Holofernes a.k.a. “H.”, “Heofermus” and “Hreofernoþ” does not appear to have stuck well. In the end, what pleased me most was that none of the renditions of Holofernes resembles me in any way, shape or form.
If you want more student doodles, you may also like:
In the Middle Ages, old age was recognised as a major cause for physical and mental impairment. The Franciscan friar Roger Bacon (c. 1214-c.1294) compiled all existing remedies against the ‘accidents of old age’ and thus produced the ultimate medieval guide to prevent and cure old age. Intriguingly, one of his remedies involved cooked dragon flesh.
How to cook your dragon
Roger Bacon was one of the great scientific minds of the thirteenth century. A professor at the universities of Oxford and Paris, Bacon was an expert in various fields, ranging from grammar to logic, astronomy and philosophy. He also had a keen interest in the occult, alchemy and medicine. Prompted by Pope Clement IV (d. 1268), Bacon wrote the encyclopedic Opus Majus, a work that deals with virtually all fields of medieval science. In book VI of this work, on ‘Experimental Science’, Bacon touches briefly on how to cure old age, noting a particularly effective remedy made from the flesh of dragons which are only known to the Ethiopieans:
For it is certain that wise men of Aethiopia have come to Italy, Spain, France, England and those lands of the Christians in which there are good flying dragons, and by secret art they possess lure the dragons from their caverns. They have saddles and bridles in readiness, and they ride these dragons and drive them in the air at high speed, so that the rigidity of their flesh may be overcome and its hardness tempered. Just as in the case of boars and bears and bulls that are driven about by dogs and beaten in various ways before they are killed for food. After they have domesticated them in this way they have the art of preparing their flesh, similar to the art of preparing the flesh of the Tyrian snake, and they use the flesh against the accidents of old age, and they prolong life and sharpen their intellect beyond all conception. For no instruction that can be given by man can produce such wisdom as the eating of this flesh, as we have learned through men of proved reliability on whose word no doubt can be cast. (Roger Bacon, Opus Majus, trans. Burke, pp. 624-625)
The Ethiopeans, it seems, are the dragon-riders of the Middle Ages and the flesh of their domesticated dragons could cure old age! In his Opus Majus, Bacon does not touch upon the preparation of the dragon flesh, noting only that it is to be prepared in the same manner as that of other snakes.
Fortunately, Bacon also compiled another work, entitled De retardatione accidentium senectutis [Concerning the slowing down of the accidents of old age] which was translated by Richard Browne in 1638 as “The Cure of Old Age and Preservation of Youth”. This compilation of existing medicinal writings on senescence (e.g. by Galen, Avicenna and Aristotle) does reveal how one is to prepare the flesh of serpentine beings so as to cure the “accidents of old age”:
… let four inches be cut off the Head and Tail, let the Guts be taken out, let them be washt very clean with Water and Salt, and let them be boiled again and again in Water and Salt, till the Flesh may easily be pulled and separated from the Bones, then let them be beaten in a Mortar, let the Flesh be anounted with the Oyl of Balm, and dryed in the Shade.
And a Man must take heed, that the Sunbeams do not fall upon the Flesh before it be dried, nor afterwards; For the Sun by his Power doth spoyl the Flesh of its Vertue, so that it expels no Poyson received either by Bite, or in any Drink. (trans. Browne, p. 114)
Bacon further notes that you can spice up your dragon flesh by adding “Cloves, Nutmeg, Mace, Citron-Rind, Zedoary and a little Musk” (trans. Browne, p. 118). You can mix all this with wine and then make rolls and little tablets (p. 145). Mmm.
Bacon’s occult remedies for old age
Eating the flesh of Ethiopean dragons (or other serpentine beings) is not the only occult remedy for old age mentioned by Bacon. In all, Bacon includes seven ‘secret’ substances that may prolong life and cure old age:
4. Drinking human blood of young people
5. The bone of a stag’s heart
7. Flesh of a snake [viper, tyrian snake or dragon]
A number of these occult remedies are examples of what may be termed ‘sympathetic magic’, a type of magic based on imitation or correspondence. The stag, for instance, was rumoured to live for a very long time and, so, the bone of its heart would prolong life as well; snakes seem to renew their youth by changing their skins and, therefore, their flesh has rejuvenating powers; gold was incorruptible and was considered a cure against corruption. Bacon’s advice to drink the blood of young people may be explained by what he, and may other medieval thinkers, considered to be the ultimate cause of old age: the loss of natural heat and natural moisture. Blood, according to ancient humoral theory, was both hot and moist and, therefore, a good supplement for the elderly who were typically cold (the elderly were also associatied with a loss of natural moisture, but an increase of extraneous moisture, i.e. phlegm, etc.).
Accidents, causes and remedial activities
Bacon’s De retardatione accidentium senectutis is not just a work of occult magic. It also outlines the various symptoms of old age, most of which still ring true today:
The Accidents of Age and Old Age are, Grey Hairs, Paleness, Wrinkles of the Skin, Weakness of Faculties and of natural Strength, Diminution of Blood and Spirits, Bleareyedness, abundance of rotten Phlegm, filthy Spitting, Shortness of Breath, Anger, Want of Sleep, an unquiet Mind, Hurt of the instruments, that is, of those, wherein the Animal Vertue does operate. (trans. Browne, pp. 22-23)
For each of these ‘accidents of old age’, Bacon mentions a specific cause: wrinkling of skin, for instance, is caused by heat and often found among those who work over a forge (therefore, ladies are advised to turn away their faces from a fire, if they want to retain their beauty). Other causes of old age include “touching cold things”, “superfluous Drunkenness”, “frequent Washing”, “frequent sports of Venus”, “immoderate Blood-letting” and “frequent and daily drinking of Water” (trans. Browne, pp. 78-79).
Throughout his work, Bacon also provides a number of activities that may undo or prevent the effects of old age, such as:
1. Vomit once or twice a month, especially in the afternoon (p. 82)
2. Anoint oneself with oil every morning, preferable mixed with sheep’s fat (pp. 123-125)
3. Live in warm places, avoiding cold and moist places (p. 139)
4. Bathe once a week, or once every 10 days (p. 141)
5. Avoid violent labour and exercise (p. 142)
6. Experience “Wrath, Joy, Mirth, Anger, and what ever provokes Laughter, as also Instrumental Musick, and Songs, to converse with Company which discourse facetiously, to look on precious Vessels, the Heavens and Stars, to be clothed with Variety of garments, to be delighted with Games, to obtain Victory over ones Enemies, to argue with ones most dear and beloved Friends.” (trans. Browne, p. 128)
Many of these activities, as Bacon relates, will cause your blood to flow and, in the case of vomitting, will get rid of the cold and moist humor that is prevalent in old people (Phlegm).
A medieval diet for old men
Bacon notes that remedies such as the ones that he has provided will do an old man no good if he does not also take care of what he eats and drinks: “Diet without Physick dometimes did good, but that Physick without due order of Diet never made a man one jot the better” (trans. Browne, p. 15). Here is a sample of the range of foodstuffs Bacon prescribes for the elderly:
1. Salad with lettuce, esp. against want of sleep (p. 34)
2. Flesh: Calf, kid, lamb, young goose, small birds; avoid: beef and goat. (p. 139)
3. Herbs: Pepper, ginger, cloves, saffron; avoid: mustard, garlick (p. 140)
4. Fruit: Figs, grapes, raisins (p. 140)
5. Nuts: Almonds, pine nuts (p. 140)
5. Avoid mushrooms, mulberries, melons and cucumbers (p. 140)
Note how the elderly are advised to eat the meat of young animals, which may be another example of sympathetic magic.
Wine is like a dragon
A typical advice for healthy aging today is to drink wine (e.g., see here). Roger Bacon, too, deals with the anti-aging effects of wine and notes that there are five healthy properties to wine: “1. Heats the whole Body; 2. As it were pierceht the Members; 3. Tempers the Humors; 4. Excites Natural Heat; 5. Chears the Heart” (trans. Browne, pp. 103-104). Not all types of wine are equally beneficial, however. Bacon notes that sour and old wine should be avoided and that white wine should only be drunk with a great deal of water. The best sort of wine is red wine, since it increases blood (the loss of which is the cause for old age) more than white wine does. Listing the beneficial effects of red wine, Bacon notes how “it will preserve the Stomach, strengthen the Natural Heat, help Digestion, defend the Body from Corruption, carry the Food to all the Parts, and concoct the Food till it be turned into very Blood: It also cheers the Heart, tinges the Countenance with Red, makes the Tongue voluble, begets Assurance, and promises much Good and Profit” (trans. Browne, p. 106).
Drinking too much wine, Bacon warns, will have a contrary effect, since it will darken the understanding, affect the brain, bring fortgetfulness, weaken joints, “Weakness of the Genitals” and “Destruction and Ruin of the Seed” (trans. Browne, p. 107). As such, Bacon concludes, wine “imitates the Nature of the Serpent, which taken immoderately, and not as Phsyicians advise, is mortal: of which well prepared, Antidotes are made that cure Diseases” (trans. Browne, p. 108). So, if you ever do catch that Ethiopian dragon, do make sure to cook it according to Bacon’s instructions and do not bite off more than you can chew!
If you liked this post, you may also be interested in:
- Anglo-Saxon aphrodisiacs: How to arouse someone from the early Middle Ages? (a blog post that also features examples of sympathetic magic)
- Growing Old among the Anglo-Saxons (a description of my PhD-thesis on old age in Anglo-Saxon England)
Works referred to:
- Browne, R., trans., The Cure of Old Age and Preservation of Youth by Roger Bacon (London, 1683)
- Burke, R. B., trans., The Opus Majus of Roger Bacon. Vol. 2 (New York, 1962)
From Humphrey ‘Golden-bollocks’ to Alwy ‘Beetle-beard’ – this blog post deals with the remarkable bynames found for individuals mentioned in the Domesday Book.
Domesday Book as a cultural treasure trove
The Domesday Book is perhaps the most famous administrative record from the Middle Ages. The Domesday Book was made in 1086 by order of William the Conqueror in 1086, who wanted to know whom he could tax and how much. The result is a long and detailed work, listing the various duties and payments that had to be made to the crown as well as the names and holding of landowners living in 1086. The Domesday Book also includes an overview of the situation during the reign of William’s predecessor Edward the Confessor in 1066. William’s scribes were thorough, indeed, as the Peterborough Chronicle remarks:
Swa swyðe nearwelice he hit lett utaspyrian. þæt næs an ælpig hide. ne an gyrde landes. ne furðon, hit is sceame to tellanne. ac hit ne þuhte him nan sceame to donne. an oxe. ne an cu. ne an swin. næs belyfon. þæt næs gesæt on his gewrite.
[So very narrowly did he command them to record it, that there was not one single hide, not one yard of land, moreover (it is a shame to say it, but it did not seem to him a shame to do it) not one ox, not one cow, not one swine was left, that was not set down in his book.]
While the Domesday Book is mostly used as a source for the social and economic history of eleventh-century England, it is also a treasure trove for those interested in more cultural phenomena, such as bynames and nicknames.
Anglo-Norman and Latin bynames from the Domesday Book
A byname is an additional name to a person’s main name, which often allows for a clearer identification of the individual. Often, such bynames take a locational form, allowing us to distinguish between such a Wulfstan of York and a Wulfstan of Worchester. More interesting are those bynames that describe physical, mental or moral characteristics. The last category is known as nicknames and can often be jocular. Some intriguing Anglo-Norman and Latin nicknames found in the Domesday Book are listed below:
Bernardus panceuolt – Bernard ‘Paunch-face’
Hunfridus uis de leuu – Humphrey ‘Face of a wolf’
Hunfridus aurei testiculi – Humphrey ‘Golden-bollocks’
Rogerus Deus saluaet dominas – Roger ‘God save the ladies’
Slideshow with Anglo-Norman and Latin nicknames. Source images: opendomesday.org
Top 10 Old English nicknames from the Domesday Book
Fascinating though the Anglo-Norman and Latin nicknames are, I was mainly interested to find some Old English nicknames and have listed my personal top 10 (in no particular order) below:
10) Aluui Ceuresbert – Alwy ‘Beetle-beard’
Alwy was a landowner in Thatcham, Berkshire, with, as it would seem, a remarkable beard. His nickname ‘ceuresbert’ is a compound of Old English ceafor ‘chafer, beetle’ and beard ‘beard’, suggesting that he may have had a two-pronged beard resembling the antennae of a beetle.
9) Alwinus Bollochessege – Alwine ‘Bullock’s eye’
Alwinus Bollochessege lived in Winchester in 1066. Since Winchester was not included in the survey for the original Domesday Book, his name is found in what is known as the Liber Winton or Winchester Domesday Book: a twelfth-century document, based on an earlier, now-lost document. The nickname of Alwine is made up of the Old English words bulluc ‘bullock’ and eage ‘eye’ (see Tengvik 1938, 295).
8) Ernuin Catenase – Ernwine ‘Cat’s nose’
Ernuin Catenase (catt ‘cat’ + nasu ‘nose’) was a landowner in Yorkshire, owning lands and manor in Scacherthorpe and Upper and Lower Poppleton. The Domesday Book records that his lands were granted to an Ernwine with a less unfortunate byname: Ernwine the priest.
7) Alricus Wintremelc – Alric ‘Winter-milk’
Alricus Wintremelc was the tenant-in-chief of Goldington, Bedfordshire. His pretty straightforward nickname is, nevertheless, more intriguing than that of Ailmar Melc who lived in Tolleshunt, Essex.
6) Goduuinus Wachefet – Godwine ‘Weak-feet’
Godwine ‘Weak-feet’ was one of the tenants of Gloucester in 1066. In this list we can clearly see that Godwine’s nickname was added to separate him from another “Goduuinus” and a “Goduinus”.
5) Goduuinus Softebread – Godwine ‘Soft-bread’
Another inhabitant of Winchester, mentioned in the Liber Winton (see Tengvik 1938, 380).
4) Godwinus Penifeder – Godwine ‘Penny-father’
Godwin Penny-father lived in Winchester and his nickname suggests that he was something of an Anglo-Saxon Scrooge. He apparently lived in the same street as Aluricus Penipurs – Alfric ‘Penny-purse’ (see Tengvik 1938, 353).
3) Aluuardus Belrap – Alward ‘Bell-rope’
In 1066, Alward ‘Bell-rope’ was the lord of Holcot, Bedfordshire. Interestingly, his lordship had passed over in 1086 to one “Radulfus Passaqua”: Ralph ‘Pass-water’.
2) Aluuinus Deule – Alwine ‘The devil’
Alwine ‘the devil’ was a Bedfordshire landowner not to be meddled with!
1) Aluredus Caddebelloc – Alfred ‘Testicle-testicle’
Another landowner in Winchester in 1066 – name mentioned in Liber Winton. According to Tengvik (1938) this is a tautological compound of OE/ME cade ‘testicle’ and balluc ‘testicle’: Alfred ‘Testicle-testicle’, lest we confuse him with Alfred ‘the Great’…
If you liked this blogpost, you may also be interested in the following post:
- Arseling: A Word Coined by Alfred the Great? (on the nickname ‘Arseling’, popularised by BBC’s The Last Kingdom)
- How Cnut became Canute (on the name of Viking king Cnut the Great)
- Naming names in Ælfwine’s Prayerbook (a great blogpost by For the Wynn)
Works referred to:
- G. Tengvik, Old English Bynames (Uppsala, 1938)