A few thoughts on Norman French and its effects on modern English

I have a Norman French dictionary out of the library.  It’s not a brilliant or extensive dictionary, being a 1978 reprint of the 1779 dictionary by Robert Kelham, and it’s faithfully printed with long ‘s’ too, but it is better than nothing.  The more up-to-date version, taking advantage – I presume – of the collating of documents begun in Directoire France costs £75 so that ain’t about to be flying off my wishlist and into the post.  I can only assume that the county library felt the same way, and since I’m the second person ever to have taken this book out, one can see their point.

Anyway, so much for the drivel about me getting out a dictionary to try to translate the professions given in the Paris 1292 census for my name book, other than to note that there are signal differences between the early French in the dictionary and the later French in the census, which stands between it, and modern French.  I thought that was interesting in its own way, because it is a bit like using an Old English dictionary to translate Chaucer… except for the fact that I read Middle English reasonably happily and Old English with a lot of swearing.  I managed to extrapolate quite a lot. 

So, on to the meat of this essay.  I found a few words that fascinated me, and thought I’d share.  We are all familiar with the fact that French has influenced English, but what I wanted to look at are a few words which have changed, sometimes significantly, in French.

One thing I have noticed is a simple change of letter, Acrire in Norman French is now Ecrire, to write; boteau, a boat is now bateau,  and so on.  Sometimes letter order changes too; furmage is cheese in Norman French which is fromage in modern French.  This  all tends to indicate a degree of change in the pronunciation which I find interesting, but mindful that I have weird interests I shall pursue it no further than a brief mention here!

Oriel:  ear.  Modern French, Oreille.  I therefore wonder if an oriel window was thus named because it stuck out like an ear, and the spelling remained in English for the window while the word in French changed.  This was the word which first caught my attention, and I went on a quick search to see if there were others.

Alm: soul.  Modern French âme, esprit.   Did this influence alms for the poor, alms houses being initially places whereby a rich man could make the eye of his needle bigger as it were by buying his soul into heaven?

Barat: fraud, deceit.  Modern French, tromperie, fraude.   From which I am certain derived that crime which requires a nation of sailors to invent, barratry, which means, for those people of less larcenous turn of mind than a mystery writer, insurance fraud perpetrated by selling a cargo on the sly and scuttling the ship to claim any insurance on it, perhaps by destroying a leaky old tub declared well-found.  Lloyds of London did not invent insurance, the Lombards did insure cargoes and ships in the middle ages.

Bote: aid, help, advantage.  Modern French, aide, benefice.  I know bote is a purely Medieval word but it was a vital one for the peasantry who might be granted house-bote or fire-bote to gather wood in the lord’s woodland to mend their house or burn on the fire.

Covynes: secret meeting places.  No modern French single word equivalent that I can find.  Presumably this became the root for covens, and was attached purely to witches.  A note in passing though, is that the word ‘covine’ which is an Old French word I just happen to have in my mental lexicon, means a fraud, and which I postulate comes from the same root. 

A note in passing, it is from Norman French that the now OLD spellings of such words as connexion, confexion and complexion arise; these, whilst still correct English in England connexion and confexion at least is now passing for the American spelling connection and confection. Confexion has, indeed, disappeared.   Interestingly our 1779 lawyer translates ‘conexes’ as ‘connections’ although Jane Austen was using the spelling with an x in it. 

Coste: collateral.  Modern French has collatéral  or coût , but we still use ‘cost’ for collateral damage – “the cost in human lives is incalculable” in journalese.

Glebe:  a piece of land, used unchanged in English for the piece of land belonging to the church.

Hobyns: hobbies.  Le hobby as well as le passe-temps is still used in modern French but what amazed me was to see ‘hobby’ used in 1779, as I was under the impression that this was a later word, and that ‘avocation’ was more correct until the mid 19^th century.  Further research has revealed that hobby-horse is attested to be used for an avocation in the 1670’s, and supposedly was shortened to ‘hobby’ in 1816.  However, with the use of the word in 1779,  perhaps this pushes the use of the word back further.  Fascinating!  Unless of course my author meant the falcon called a hobby… but my English dictionary gives the Old French derivation of that as ‘hobé’.  I think by 1779 a reference to the small sturdy horse which is also called a hobby would probably be sufficiently obsolete that my dictionary writer would feel obliged to explain it.   An interesting paradox.  My personal feeling is that a lawyer at Lincoln’s Inn, like Mr Kelham, who uses a modish spelling like ‘connection’ is likely to be in touch with the most up-to-date use of words, so perhaps hobbies, meaning avocations, really is the meaning here. 

Humblesse: humility. Modern French humilité; modestie.  The word humble would appear to so derive.  The derivation of ‘to eat humble pie’ is a little less obvious, since this refers to a pie made of the offal of deer, known as ‘umbles’.  Eating umble pie was to be eating far from the most choice cuts.

Another interesting note, Robert Kelham has ‘moultons’ translated as ‘weathers’ by which he must surely mean ‘wethers’.  Moulton is sufficiently close to the modern French word ‘mouton’ for sheep, and a wether is a castrated male sheep kept for the wool.  Un Owaille is given as ‘a sheep’, and with the male article, but it is not hard to see where ewe comes from.

Prigner: to take. Modern French, prendre.  I include this one for the Georgette Heyer fans who love her cant,  and my Felicia and Robin fans to demonstrate the origins of the cant phrase‘a prigger of purses’ a pickpocket.  To prig was to steal…

Verek: wreck. Modern French navire naufragé, épave.  Verek to wreck is not a big leap when v and w were often interchangeable. 

Well, this is a bit of a gallimaufry, but I hope enjoyable for all that. 

The rise of the surname in Medieval England.

Surnames fall into four main categories: occupational, patronymic and matronymic; bynames; locative.

Almost all surnames were established by the year 1400, and in general were being passed from generation to generation regardless of whether the occupation recorded in the name was held by the owner of the surname, or whether their mother or father was named according to the name they bore, or whether they had any resemblance to the nickname which had singled out an ancestor.

One exception to the rule of names being established by 1400  is the surname ‘Pargetter’ and its other spellings, which did not really enter common use until pargetting in its modern sense, the decorative moulding of plaster on a wall, was invented in the first half of the 16^th century.  Before that Dauber or Dealbator would have been the names of someone who applied daub to the wattle of a house wall, though rarely the term pargetting was used in earlier times for the application of a smooth layer of plaster over the rough daub. 

A note should be made about the excrescent ‘s’ at the end of some names.  This is generally as a result of the genitive form of Old English, the ‘of’ form, which tended to end in –es, -is, -ys or –s.  This leads to Jones, Parsons, Roberts etc, the offspring OR servant of John, the parson, Robert etc.  It also leads to Birks or Nokes, the place of the birches or at the place of the oaks [which surnames see below].  Further excrescent ‘s’ may be found in the English interpretation of French names for places; Danvers from d’Anvers, where the ‘s’ became part of the pronunciation under the English tongue.

Occupational names

These originally derive from the job done by the bearer of the name, many of which ran initially in families, recorded by clerks in Latin as, for example, Iohnus le faber, who would be known by his neighbours as John Wright, or later, John Carpenter, and in general it is the vernacular version that stuck. 

Note: if a female is the one whose occupation is taken as a surname, the name will end –ster, not –er, eg, Webster, Spinster, Baxter, Huckster/Huxter [a special case since the male version of an itinerant peddler of goods was a chapman] etc.

In England the most common were, in approximate order:

• Smith
• Clark[e]
• Taylor/Tailyor [Also associated,  Sewer, Seamer/Simester
• Miller/Milner/Milne/Mill/Mills/Millward/Millard
• Baker/Bakester/ Baxter/Backhouse/Bacchus [who baked the bread made by each housewife]
• Webb[e]/Webber/Webster/Weaver [if all names associated with cloth finishing were added together, the whole group would be close in number to the smiths; such names as Fuller,[see also Walker] Shearer/Thunder, T[h]rower, Tassellar/Tesler, Taycell, Flaxman, Woolman/Wolman, Dyer, Wooller, Woolhouse/Wollas[s]/Wholehouse [NOT Wooll/Woll etc which is a placement name, or Wolward which derives from wolf-guard or Wolsey which derives from the personal name Wulfsige, wolf-victory] Silk, Sendall, Mercer
• Wright [established before the name carpenter was in use, being a manufacturer]
• Turner
• Cooper/Coope/Coupe/Copper/Cowper/Cupper/Couper
• Walker [either a fuller, or an unpleasant job involving walking on wet flax to break up the fibres]
• Cook[e]/Cookes/Coke [also other servants like Butler, Spencer, Page, Chamberlain/Chambers, Porter, Footman, Sewer[ a sewer was a server though the name may also derive from Sawyer; Souer, a shoemaker;  or from one who sews] Seneschal, Sellars/Cellier/Zeller, Ostler/Hostler/Horseler/Hustler[which may also be from one who keeps a hostelry].
• Hunt[e]/Hunter/Huntlow/Huntman [and other hunt/hawking associated names like Forster/Forrester, Parker, Vener/Fenner, Varder/Verdier, Veutrey/Vewtrey Falconer/Falkner/Fawkes/Fauconer, Ostringer/Oslar.Astringer, Muskett/Mushet, Falke, Fowler/Fuler/Vowler, Muer/Mewer/Muer –note, Mew[s] can also come from a personal name, or from being from Meaux
• Bailey/Baillie/Baylis[s]/Bailess/Bailiff[e]
• Ward [and the derivatives of a name meaning ‘guard’ or’watchman’ such as Hayward, Wolward, Gatward etc]

Other associated occupations:

 to do with leather working like Tanner, Tawyer/Tower, Glover, Souter/Souer/Sewer, Cordwainer, Cobbler, Furel[l]/Sheather, Furr

to do with building: Mason, Slater, Tyler, Carpenter, Stonehewer/Stanier/Stonier, Stoneman. [no early brickmakers!  Brick was not used until later in the 15^th century and any name like Brick will have derived from the personal name ‘Bric’ or ‘Brihtric’]

to do with labouring: Shepherd, Hayward, Cotman, Coultas/Coultish/Cowtas, Coward/Cowherd, Avner, Fosser, Carter, Gooseman, Goater/Gater, Ploughman/Plowman/Plewman, Reaper/Reper, Readman/Redman, Hoggard

Patronymic/Matronymic

These names are derived from parental names.  If derived from a mother’s name, this might mean that the original bearer of the name was illegitimate; or that the mother was socially superior to her husband; or that the mother was in some wise more memorable than her husband. 

The most common patronymics derive from those names which were most commonly in use.  These are probably the most common:

• Johns/Johnson/Jones/Jenkins/Jenks/Jenkinson/Jennings
• Williams/Williamson/Wilson/Wilkinson/Wilkes/Wilcock/ Fitzwilliam/Gillam
• Roberts/Robertson/Dobbs/Dobson/ Hobb/Hobson/Dobbin/Dobing etc
• Thomas/Thompson/Tomlinson/Tomlin/Tamblyn/Thom[s]
• Rogers/Hodges/Hodgeson/Hogg/Hotchkiss/Hodgkin etc
• Jamison/Jackson/Jacobi/Jacobs/Jakes/Jeakins

There are also those patronymics which are less obvious, and which originate from names no longer in current use, like Aston, deriving from OE Athelstan,  or Haskins, from ON Asketill

The most common matronymics with the originating name:

• Julian[Gillian]:  Jowett/Jewitt/Jouett/Gillot/Gillian/Jellings/ Jillings/Gillions/Jelyon
• Isabel: Ibbot/Hibbit/Ibbs/Hibbs/Ibberson/Ibbotson/Hipperson/Ibell/ Hibble/Ibson/ Isabel/Isbill
• Emma Emblem/Embling/Emeline/ Emlyn/Amblin/ Emblott/Emm[s]/ Emmett/Hemmett/ Amelot
• Ismenia Emmony/ Emmans/ Emmence/ Immink
• Alice: Alin/Alis/Allies/Allish/ Alais/Hallis /Alison/Hallison/ Ellison [which might also be from the male name Ellis/Eliot/Elias]

Bynames

Also called nicknames, these were names given to a man – or sometimes a woman – by way of a descriptive, whether of their appearance or their manner.   Prior to what is commonly called the Medieval period [apologies to any archaeologist out there muttering that Saxon is classified as Early Medieval] such nicknames were the rule and tended to be person specific, not passed on down the family.  Eric Hairybreeches was a singular sort of person, and did not leave a tribe of little Hairybreeches. 

Below I give a fairly random list or possible nicknames:

• Blase/Blaze/Bleys/Blaise – a firebrand [from either temper or hair]
• Blank/Blanch/Blaunch – white, fair, probably hair or complexion
• Bellamy –  good friend
• Carl[e]/Karl – man,  by the 13^th century with distinct overtones of ‘churl’ a lowborn, brutish man.
• Chin[n] – one with a peculiarity of the chin, maybe a prognathic jaw, or unusual beard
• Dere – from OE and could be beloved, bold or swift depending on the root.
• Fairfax/Fayrfex – fair hair
• Garnishe/Garnis – moustache
• Gimmer – a ewe lamb, precious [ironic]
• Hareberd – greybeard
• Jolif[fe]/Jolly/Joly/Jolyman – gay, lively.
• Lytel/Little/Littell – little; may be added to other word eg Littlefot, Liteljohn.  May very well be used literally or ironically, but with the Medieval mentality probably more often ironically.
• Midsumer – probably referring to time of birth.
• Nogood – what is says on the packet.
• Old/Olds/Ould[e] – not necessarily implying old age but to distinguish an elder of the same name from the younger.
• Payn[e]/Payen/Pagan/Pagenel etc – from Latin paganus originally meaning rustic but later heathen.  Often given as a name to one whose baptism had been delayed, also bestowed as a byname on someone dilatory at worship.  Found as a given name, especially Payn, without apparent reference to its meaning.
• Queen – from cwene, OE, meaning woman, but as its derivative ‘quean’ was also used widely in the middle ages as a synonym for prostitute, there is some further inference to draw.  Quena/Cwena and its variants was occasionally used as a female given name before 1300 [when possibly it fell out of fashion because of other overtones even as Pernel lost currency in the 16^th Century because of its implications as the mistress of a priest]
• Redbeard etc –  Red beard, Redeknappe, red head
• Sowden, Sodan, Soltan – from soudan OFr for sultan, may be a rebuke nickname for being top-lofty but more likely a nickname for the part of the Sultan of the Saracens in a pageant play.
• Thin/Thynne etc – lean or slender
• Unready – unwise, poorly advised, without rede
• Vaisey/Veasy/Voizey/Facey/Phasey etc – from OFr enveisé, possessed, in old documents also often with the addition of ‘lascivus’, wanton. 
• Wasp[e] – from OE Waeps, a wasp. 
• Yellow – from hair or complexion colour

Locative Names

The obvious locative names are those deriving from the place where someone came from if they moved, or the name of the village by which they were known in the nearest town if they did business, eg Gilbert de Shimpling, as Gilbert from the village of Shimpling might be known if he came to market in the big town of Lavenham.  For choosing such names, a map is probably the best friend of any author or re-enactor, bearing in mind that it was rare for anyone to travel more than a dozen or so miles from where they were born until after the Industrial Revolution.  It should also be born in mind that place names change!  For example, Brighton was Brighthelmstone before the long Regency, and Erwarton [Suffolk] was known as often as not as Arwerton, has been called Arwenton in some documents and was Eurewardestuna and Alwartuna in the Domesday book.  The Domesday book [available online and in local libraries] will give examples that may be of use for early locative surnames; Edwin of Alwartun  might have later had descendants who changed their names to meet the change of the village name, or for other reasons; there are no Alwartons at all today that I can discover. 

Also bear in mind the effect of local pronunciation on names – Norridge derives from Norwich, being the local pronunciation; equally Stopford from Stockport.  Stuckey and Stukey bear no apparent resemblance to the town of Stiff Key in Norfolk until one is aware that  Stukey was the pronunciation of the village until incomers for modern day holidays started pronouncing the town the way it was spelled.  Notably an early version of the name as a surname was Stivekey.
It should also not be forgotten that surnames extant today may derive from abandoned villages, who lost population due to plague or other factors, such as the extinct village of Lashbrook though that was already lost by the Domesday book.  The name, however, survives. Originally it was Lachebroc.

County names are also used but tend to arise either in the well-travelled or on the borders of counties.  Note: the use of the preposition de- before a placename largely disappears by about 1300, and some placenames appear without the preposition as early as Domesday.

There are of course plenty of post-conquest locative names deriving from French place names,  including Normandy itself, but should not be confused with the names of French origin brought by the Hugenots.   Examples of Norman-brought surnames include Bull[e]y, from Bouillé, Ravel[l] from Ravel, a common place name in France, Mew from Meaux etc.  A special note should be made regarding the name Bridges which was the English pronunciation of the port of Bruges.  One cannot help comparison with the much later mangling of Ypres into ‘Wipers’ by the troops in World War 1. 

The more localised locative names are those like ‘Attwood’ or ‘Byfield’ or ‘Underhill’ which are self explanatory.  Less obvious are where the very old names that began with a preposition, that developed from OE  ‘æt þæm ace’ [at the oak] to ME Atten Ake to Atten Oke to Atte Noke – to Noke or Nokes.  Similarly Atter Oke becomes Roke or Rook, so that Rookwood may be seen to be as likely to be ‘at the oak wood’ as to be ‘at the wood where rooks dwell’.   Where there is an ash not an oak, the names Nash and Rash are formed.  Nolder from Alder is formed in the same way. 

To continue on the subject of trees – and distinctive trees were important in order to describe and navigate the landscape – Holly gives rise to Hollens, Hollings, Hollay, Hollis etc. Withy, Withey are dwellers by the willow and early may include names like Widege, being the interpretation of the letters ‘eth’ or ‘thorn’ and ‘yoch’ from ‘wiðig’.  Birks and Burks are from birches, with Birkett, Birkhead and Brickett from ‘dweller on a birch-covered headland’.  Beecher, Becher and Beechey come from the beech tree, but Beeching may equally derive from either ‘dweller by the beck’ or ‘son of the man named Becca’, and indeed Beech, Beach and Bech may also refer to a beck not a beech.  But just to be confusing, not usually a beach at the seaside.  Hazel gives Hazel, Hessel, Hesselden[e], Hazelgrove, Haselhurst, Hazlett and many others.  Also Hawthorn[e], Blackthorn[e], Elm/Elmes/Nelmes,  

It is worth noting that the trees whose names survive in surnames are often those generally considered important or sacred from pagan times, though I have been unable to find a version of Yew, the most magical of all.  I would postulate that this was because churches tended to be founded on previous places of worship, and yews are mostly found in churchyards, which would lead to surnames of Attcherch, Bychurch, Churchill or Churchley.

Other tree names are Bygraves, by the grove, and Imp[e]y, ‘dweller near an enclosure of saplings’

Other names are less obvious.

 Chessil may indicate someone from Chesil Beach in Dorset but may also be a Dorset man who dwelt near or on a gravel bank, which is the dialect meaning of Chesil.  Ness[e] is a man from a headland. 

Statheman is the dweller by a staithe, or landing place, and will only be found where Viking influence was sufficient to leave behind Old Norse words – such as the East Coast. 

Holter is ‘dweller by the wood’. 

Hook/Huck/Hooker/Hookes/Huke etc were ‘dwellers by a hill spur or bend’

Avann/Fann/Fenne ‘dweller by the fen’.

Some odd phrases and their origins

Some of these phrases were extant in the Regency as well as in the Renaissance/Middle ages; some, like ‘currying Favel’ had disappeared and the modern version, ‘currying favour’ had replaced it.  The ‘twinkling of a bedstaff’ had become ‘twinkling of a bedpost’ being no more than an expression used without meaning. My thanks to Brewer’s ‘Phrase and Fable’; an excellent book.

BREWER'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASE AND FABLE

Curry Favel

To curry is to groom a horse, in this case the horse is a centaur named Favel, from one of the many fables of the middle ages, a fourteenth century satire.  Favel symbolises cunning and bestial degradation and to curry this ill natured creature is to murmur flattery or to act in a sycophantic fashion.

Twinkling of a bedstaff

A typical medieval bed was a frame raised on legs, the middle of the bed filled with ropes woven back and forth, which would have been pre-stretched, ie used ropes so they did not stretch and sag but provided some give. Above this would be a tick filled, according to the status of the owner, with hay, straw, flock or down.  The flock would be throwster’s waste, the ends cut away from a loom, or poor quality wool not suitable for weaving, or ends of cloth too small or poor quality to use as patches and shredded.  This palliasse was held in place at the sides of the bed by bedstaffs, which were removable, to allow removal and turning of the mattress, and were also used to beat the mattress as both flock and down are inclined to clump; the removal of an uncomfortable lump in the bed was dealt with in the twinkling of a bedstaff. 

To know a Hawk from a Heronshaw

A Heronshaw [aka harns’aw [Suffolk], heronsew, hernshaw] is the English mangling of the Old French herounçel, a young heron [Chambers English Dictionary and several Medieval cookbooks]; this is obviously a prey animal: the hawk is as obviously a raptor.  To know a hawk from a heronshaw means not to be fooled by the fact that both have feathers and to see further than a specious argument or seeming fact.  Shakespeare’s version is to know a hawk from a a handsaw [Hamlet] suggests that either the word had fallen into disuse with the saying remaining, or it had just become further mangled; note the Suffolk dialect version which could easily be so mangled.  Later reintroduction of the word heronshaw is confused by the ‘shaw’ part [‘strip of wood at edge of field] to define it as a place where herons nest.

The saints go marching in for several phrases:

To follow like a Tantony Pig

St Anthony was patron saint of pigs among other things, and his followers were also hospitallers.  They were customarily gifted the cab pig [runt] of a litter which was permitted to root around freely in towns, and would follow around anyone they thought might feed them. 

Bartholomew poppet [doll]/pig/baby

St Bartholomew’s Fair [24^th August and surrounding days, usually a three day fair, later stretching to 2 weeks] was where one might buy many fine goods like dolls usually over-dressed to attract little girls [so no different to Barbie and Sindy then]  leading to a Bartholomew poppet, later baby, later doll, being a term for a tawdry [see below] overdressed woman.   A Bartholomew swine/hog/pig is a very fat person as the swine were fattened for Bartholomew’s Fair.   The later term ‘Bartholomew baby’ for a young, overdressed man superseded its use for a woman.

Tawdry

 A contraction of St Audrey, which name is itself a contraction of the Saxon saint Etheldreda.  Audrey is the name used from the end of the 15^th century/beginning of the 16^th so the word dates back no further than that. It probably stems from the fashion in the late 17^th century of selling cheap lace necklaces at St Audrey’s Fair which have association with the saint who is supposed to have died of a neck tumour [goitre?] as God’s punishment for a youthful addiction to showy necklaces [Bede].

Speakest thou in the familiar?

Most speakers of most languages outside of English recognise a part of the language to speak to inferiors, children, or those very close to them.  The English language has lost the everyday use of these words, and grammatical forms, but they do exist.

And one of the things that really gets my hackles up is seeing ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ ‘hast’ and ‘hath’ and so on horribly abused and misused.  I have trouble with the Star Trek episode where Spock fights people with a Vulcan ritual garden spade because of T’pau and her gross misuse of the language.  ‘Wilt thee do such and such’ as I recall. OWWW!

Thee is predicate, not subject!  Isn’t that obvious? 

Do you want me to explain subject and predicate? [sigh] perhaps I had better. Grammar stopped being a subject that was properly  taught in my young day and things rarely improve....

Subject is a noun doing something.  Predicate, also called object, is a noun having something done to it.  It really is that easy.

The sentence I use as an example from T’pau is like someone saying ‘Me will do something’

I rant about the I/Me, We/Us misuse as well, which I may as well address while I’m at it. 

When in doubt which to use, pare down the sentence to take all other people out .

Eg Me and the boys will go to the house

 So pare it down: Me will go to the house

So now you know that should have been I and the boys will go to the house except of course placing yourself first is incorrect and it should be The boys and I will go to the house.

For We/Us, check which is correct by replacing the offending article with I or Me.  We is the plural of I, being subject; Us is the plural of Me, being predicate. Us will all go to the house  is obviously wrong - we will all go to the house has the correct pronoun.

Ok, happy with the first person?  Time to move on to those archaic second person forms.   Which are, may I reiterate, used to speak ONLY to those very close to you, children, or social inferiors.  Let any courtier start calling the King ‘thou’ and he’s going to make a very close acquaintance with the rack and chains because it’s treason.

No I’m not joking. 

It is belittling the king and that is treason. 

So, you are talking to a social inferior; a younger sibling perhaps.

Thou art turned ten today, youngling; hast thou any bauble that thou wouldst that I procure for thee?

For thee – predicate.  Thou art, hast thou, that thou wouldst – object.

If in doubt put 'I' and 'me' in and turn the sentence around:

 I am turned ten today, and I have [in mind] a bauble that I would [have you] procure for me.

 Simple or what?

So now those tricksy suffixes, -st and –th.

Guess what? That’s easy too.

When addressing someone the –st ending is used; it agrees with second person.  When speaking of someone, the –th ending is used; it agrees with third person.

Now this strays out of the use of familiar forms because the use of the –th suffix for the third person is purely archaic. Hath and doth  tend to be the ones that hang on longest, generally by the Renaissance, using the –th suffix is a little flowery for everyday speech unless within the use of familiar speech.

This also means that –th is used for more abstract concepts eg It seemeth to me to be a fine day.

It, meaning the day, is a third person, being an object spoken about, not to.

If however someone opens the shutters and fancifully speaks to the weather outside he might say O sky, why weepest thou so sore? Hast thou such sorrow? 

Here we have that hast, familiar second person part of the verb to have.

 

Compare this with: he hath a fair face; but I charge thee, youngling that thou hast care. It likes me not.

Good medieval phrase, it likes me not meaning ‘I do not like it’. 

He hath: third person part of the familiar of the verb ‘to have’

I charge thee 'I' is the subject, so 'thee' is obviously the predicate.

Thou hast care  'Thou' is the subject.  Hast, familiar form, second person verb to have

Thou dost  and he doth

Did I go over that rather too heavily?  If so I apologise.

Do I dare mention that there are irregular forms and exceptions?

Thou art  is the correct use of second person familiar of the verb ‘to be’ not, as one might expect ‘thou arst’ which is meaningless. It can also be shortened to Thou’rt

He be was in use as much as he is. 

Thou shouldst;  He should

Thou shalt; He shall

Wilt thou: will he

Thanks for reading my rant; I hope it comes in useful. Note below the use of the –th suffix within a speech couched familiarly as I might surely address all my friends on the web thus…..

Thinkest thou that it bringeth good rede to thee, gentil reader?

Cant from the Renaissance to the Regency

A brief history of Cant
Theoretically there is no cant recorded in the time of Felicia and Robin but in the late 16th century, lo and behold it is being recorded in a very great deal of detail, this complex alternate language.
Granted, there was a lot more vagabondage after the Reformation when the welfare state that had been the monastaries collapsed, and there was more need for a secret language.

I contend however that it did not appear out of nowhere, suddenly and off the shelf, fairly universally in Britain.  The only language which has done that is Esperanto, which has a similar origin in being an artificial language although Esperanto was invented to make communication clearer; Cant was invented to obscure it. Naturally Cant has been the most successful.....

There is some evidence to suggest that some canting terms come from the language of the Rom otherwise known as Gypsies or in the Tudor era Egyptians.  They were very rare early in the 16th century but again were sufficiently widespread later in the century to be likely to have had a small ongoing presence; like the Jews who may have been expelled in the 13th century but were sufficient in numbers by the 17th century to request permission to build a synagogue. The granting of this permission was a tacit invitation to settle on the part of Cromwell but that's another story.

Pogrums do not necessarily get rid of everyone thank goodness....

Hence I'm using some canting terms in the Felicia and Robin series for flavour with the criminals they deal with.  It may not be strictly accurate, I've tried to make a judgement call on what feels 'well used' by the later era.  The excellent book by Gamini Salgado 'The Elizabethan Underworld' gives an excellent flavour, albeit of late Tudor skullduggery; I have drawn the vocabulary from there.

What really surprised me when I read Salgado's book was how close were the terms to those being used by Georgette Heyer - one of my favourite authors - when she portrayed cant-using ruffians of the Regency.  There is a most excellent resource online for Georgian and Regency cant, all nicely referenced and dated; see it in my sidebar links.  The sources are Collection of Canting Words from Nathan Bailey's 1737 The New Canting Dictionary and the 1811 Lexicon Balatronicum based on Francis Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue and the glossary from the Memoirs of James Hardy Vaux, published in 1819.

I'll try to get around to a less overwhelming glossary than is presented here at some point.