'Twas Ever Thus: Late Victorian Fashionable Girls' Names
The following article, entitled Female Names, appeared in the Newcastle Courant on Saturday 24 September 1892. It was cited from "The Globe."
Of particular interest in this article is the perceptions that many names had at that time: Ann is severe, Anne is lovable, Anna is pretentious, Hannah is low-class, Annie is fashionable but frivolous. Harriet was once an aristocratic name, but gradually permeated the masses to become a byword for a working class Cockney woman. On the other hand, a servant given the highfalutin' name Gladys was incongruous.
Oh, and (much to my amusement) etymologists are "troublesome" folks.
To begin in alphabetical order. Ada strikes one as an essentially modern name, a names certainly much commoner now that fifty years ago ; it is suggestive of girls with golden curls, and seems altogether reminiscent of music-hall ditties ; yet clap an h on to its last letter, and it becomes one of the most ancient of names. Except Eve, Adah is the first woman mentioned in the Bible. It is curious that her co-wife, Zillah, has not been nearly so popular as a name-giver. Here, however, we forsee that one of those troublesome folks, called etymologists, may assert, that the modern Ada is derived from Adelaide, Adelina and Adela — words in German signifying nobility — and that the resemblance between this Ada and the Scriptural Adah is merely accidental.
Let us return to a much commoner name. Ann, deprived for the final e, has a severe, almost forbidding aspect. Anne, somehow, seems much more loveable. It will be remembered that when Pope wished to clothe with additional dignity Her late Majesty of that name, he called her Anna—
Here, though, great Anna! whom three realms obey Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea.
Here again, if we prefix and add an aspirate, a marvellous metamorphosis takes place. Anna sounds aristocratic not to say pretentious, Hannah, despite her honourable status as the mother of the Prophet Samuel, to modern ears suggests a hard-working woman with muscular arms; who is "all there" at window-cleaning or the wash-tub. As for Annie, it is all very well when conferred as a pet name by friends and kinsfolk, but life is too serious for a woman to use only a diminutive as her baptismal name. Yet fashion nowadays runs in that direction, and more babies probably are christened Annie than Anne. Concerning Augusta, we will only say that there is something about the second syllable (still worse when shortened to Gussy or Gusta) which makes it an ugly sounding name. G makes an awkward consonant. It makes Agnes, despite its lamb-like derivation, sound harsh, especially when familiarised to Aggie.
The grand old name Elizabeth resembles the Indian banyan tree in the number of shoots and suckers which it sets forth. Bess, Bessie, Bet, Betty (once again fashionable), Betsy, Eliza and Lizzy, all sping from the parent tree. Ellen, Eleanor, and Isabella, too, belong to the same pedigree. How much depends on the association of ideas! Isabel both looks and sounds pretty ; Jezebel, a variant of the same, seems atrocious. Catherine, spelt in four different ways, still holds its own as a favourite name, especially in its diminutive forms, Kate, Katie and Kitty ; but several other good old family appellatives are rarer than they were forty years ago. Among these may be mentioned Amelia, Charlotte, Caroline, Emma, Harriet, Julia and Matilda. Emily is more in favour than Amelia, though both names have a common origin. Emma has possibly been vulgarised by its association with a song which a few years ago was in everybody's mouth. In like manner Harriet has become a by-word, through its association with the 'Arry and 'Arriet of Bank Holiday notoriety. Time was when Henrietta and Harriet (especially when the latter was spelt with an o), had a savour of exclusive aristocracy. Lady Hariot and her yellow chariot seemed to be in as natural a position as a hand in a glove. Another proof of the inconsistancy of fashion concerning names is afforded by Matilda and its diminutive Maud. While the former is decidedly out of date, the latter —both in novels and plays, as well as in real life — has been almost wearisomely popular for a good many years past.
When we see in the obituary the death of an old lady of seventy or eighty bearing the name of Ethel or Florence, we experience a sensation of surprise, and not without reason, for these names were rarely given in the earlier years of the century. They sprang into sudden popularity some 30 or 40 years ago, and are now so common that when the marriage list is tolerably long we are pretty sure to find an Ethel or a Florence figuring in it. The former name came into favour when Thackeray published "The Newcombes," there heroine of which story is an Ethel.
Jane and Jenny are still favourite names; so are Louisa and Lucy; so is Margaret with its variants, Madge, Maggie, Margery and Peggy; and so, we gladly records, is the simplest an sweetest of all names — Mary. When turned in Marie (that is, as an English name*) it loses its simplicity and becomes affected. Any modern popularity which Martha possesses it gains through its diminutive, Patty, which bears little resemblance to its parent stem.
As a rule, it may be broadly stated that the poorer classes are gradually abandoning the good old traditional names, especially Scripture names, and are adopting all sorts of fine names, often borrowed from the sensational fiction which they peruse so eagerly. It is rare, nowadays, to find Sarahs and Susans among domestic servants, and the nobility will soon have a monopoly of those good old names; on the other hand, there is something incongruous about Yolande black-leading the parlour grate, or Gladys scrubbing the front steps. In actual facts, their highly refined names often cause these young ladies to "put up their backs" against such "menial" duties.
Lastly, let us call attention to the difference existing in the spelling of certain well-known names in this country and the United States. As a rule, the Americans use ie where we use y. They write Nellie, Lucie, Kittie, Sallie, Fannie, where we write Nelly, Lucy, Kitty, Sally and Fanny. But there is nothing more arbitrary than the spelling of the Anglo-American tongue, for our cousins write Katy and Jessy where we almost invariably write Katie and Jessie.— "The Globe."
The Newcastle Courant 24 September 1892
.
The author was right. In 1890, many more babies were registered as Annie than Ann or Anne.
*French Marie = ma-REE, English Marie = MARRY.
Comments
'Twas Ever Thus: Late Victorian Fashionable Girls' Names
The following article, entitled Female Names, appeared in the Newcastle Courant on Saturday 24 September 1892. It was cited from "The Globe."
Of particular interest in this article is the perceptions that many names had at that time: Ann is severe, Anne is lovable, Anna is pretentious, Hannah is low-class, Annie is fashionable but frivolous. Harriet was once an aristocratic name, but gradually permeated the masses to become a byword for a working class Cockney woman. On the other hand, a servant given the highfalutin' name Gladys was incongruous.
Oh, and (much to my amusement) etymologists are "troublesome" folks.
To begin in alphabetical order. Ada strikes one as an essentially modern name, a names certainly much commoner now that fifty years ago ; it is suggestive of girls with golden curls, and seems altogether reminiscent of music-hall ditties ; yet clap an h on to its last letter, and it becomes one of the most ancient of names. Except Eve, Adah is the first woman mentioned in the Bible. It is curious that her co-wife, Zillah, has not been nearly so popular as a name-giver. Here, however, we forsee that one of those troublesome folks, called etymologists, may assert, that the modern Ada is derived from Adelaide, Adelina and Adela — words in German signifying nobility — and that the resemblance between this Ada and the Scriptural Adah is merely accidental.
Let us return to a much commoner name. Ann, deprived for the final e, has a severe, almost forbidding aspect. Anne, somehow, seems much more loveable. It will be remembered that when Pope wished to clothe with additional dignity Her late Majesty of that name, he called her Anna—
Here, though, great Anna! whom three realms obey Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea.
Here again, if we prefix and add an aspirate, a marvellous metamorphosis takes place. Anna sounds aristocratic not to say pretentious, Hannah, despite her honourable status as the mother of the Prophet Samuel, to modern ears suggests a hard-working woman with muscular arms; who is "all there" at window-cleaning or the wash-tub. As for Annie, it is all very well when conferred as a pet name by friends and kinsfolk, but life is too serious for a woman to use only a diminutive as her baptismal name. Yet fashion nowadays runs in that direction, and more babies probably are christened Annie than Anne. Concerning Augusta, we will only say that there is something about the second syllable (still worse when shortened to Gussy or Gusta) which makes it an ugly sounding name. G makes an awkward consonant. It makes Agnes, despite its lamb-like derivation, sound harsh, especially when familiarised to Aggie.
The grand old name Elizabeth resembles the Indian banyan tree in the number of shoots and suckers which it sets forth. Bess, Bessie, Bet, Betty (once again fashionable), Betsy, Eliza and Lizzy, all sping from the parent tree. Ellen, Eleanor, and Isabella, too, belong to the same pedigree. How much depends on the association of ideas! Isabel both looks and sounds pretty ; Jezebel, a variant of the same, seems atrocious. Catherine, spelt in four different ways, still holds its own as a favourite name, especially in its diminutive forms, Kate, Katie and Kitty ; but several other good old family appellatives are rarer than they were forty years ago. Among these may be mentioned Amelia, Charlotte, Caroline, Emma, Harriet, Julia and Matilda. Emily is more in favour than Amelia, though both names have a common origin. Emma has possibly been vulgarised by its association with a song which a few years ago was in everybody's mouth. In like manner Harriet has become a by-word, through its association with the 'Arry and 'Arriet of Bank Holiday notoriety. Time was when Henrietta and Harriet (especially when the latter was spelt with an o), had a savour of exclusive aristocracy. Lady Hariot and her yellow chariot seemed to be in as natural a position as a hand in a glove. Another proof of the inconsistancy of fashion concerning names is afforded by Matilda and its diminutive Maud. While the former is decidedly out of date, the latter —both in novels and plays, as well as in real life — has been almost wearisomely popular for a good many years past.
When we see in the obituary the death of an old lady of seventy or eighty bearing the name of Ethel or Florence, we experience a sensation of surprise, and not without reason, for these names were rarely given in the earlier years of the century. They sprang into sudden popularity some 30 or 40 years ago, and are now so common that when the marriage list is tolerably long we are pretty sure to find an Ethel or a Florence figuring in it. The former name came into favour when Thackeray published "The Newcombes," there heroine of which story is an Ethel.
Jane and Jenny are still favourite names; so are Louisa and Lucy; so is Margaret with its variants, Madge, Maggie, Margery and Peggy; and so, we gladly records, is the simplest an sweetest of all names — Mary. When turned in Marie (that is, as an English name*) it loses its simplicity and becomes affected. Any modern popularity which Martha possesses it gains through its diminutive, Patty, which bears little resemblance to its parent stem.
As a rule, it may be broadly stated that the poorer classes are gradually abandoning the good old traditional names, especially Scripture names, and are adopting all sorts of fine names, often borrowed from the sensational fiction which they peruse so eagerly. It is rare, nowadays, to find Sarahs and Susans among domestic servants, and the nobility will soon have a monopoly of those good old names; on the other hand, there is something incongruous about Yolande black-leading the parlour grate, or Gladys scrubbing the front steps. In actual facts, their highly refined names often cause these young ladies to "put up their backs" against such "menial" duties.
Lastly, let us call attention to the difference existing in the spelling of certain well-known names in this country and the United States. As a rule, the Americans use ie where we use y. They write Nellie, Lucie, Kittie, Sallie, Fannie, where we write Nelly, Lucy, Kitty, Sally and Fanny. But there is nothing more arbitrary than the spelling of the Anglo-American tongue, for our cousins write Katy and Jessy where we almost invariably write Katie and Jessie.— "The Globe."
The Newcastle Courant 24 September 1892
.
The author was right. In 1890, many more babies were registered as Annie than Ann or Anne.
'Twas Ever Thus: Late Victorian Fashionable Girls' Names
The following article, entitled Female Names, appeared in the Newcastle Courant on Saturday 24 September 1892. It was cited from "The Globe."
Of particular interest in this article is the perceptions that many names had at that time: Ann is severe, Anne is lovable, Anna is pretentious, Hannah is low-class, Annie is fashionable but frivolous.
Harriet was once an aristocratic name, but gradually permeated the masses to become a byword for a working class Cockney woman. On the other hand, a servant given the highfalutin' name Gladys was incongruous.
Oh, and (much to my amusement) etymologists are "troublesome" folks.
To begin in alphabetical order. Ada strikes one as an essentially modern name, a names certainly much commoner now that fifty years ago ; it is suggestive of girls with golden curls, and seems altogether reminiscent of music-hall ditties ; yet clap an h on to its last letter, and it becomes one of the most ancient of names.
Except Eve, Adah is the first woman mentioned in the Bible. It is curious that her co-wife, Zillah, has not been nearly so popular as a name-giver. Here, however, we forsee that one of those troublesome folks, called etymologists, may assert, that the modern Ada is derived from Adelaide, Adelina and Adela — words in German signifying nobility — and that the resemblance between this Ada and the Scriptural Adah is merely accidental.
Let us return to a much commoner name. Ann, deprived for the final e, has a severe, almost forbidding aspect. Anne, somehow, seems much more loveable. It will be remembered that when Pope wished to clothe with additional dignity Her late Majesty of that name, he called her Anna—
Here again, if we prefix and add an aspirate, a marvellous metamorphosis takes place. Anna sounds aristocratic not to say pretentious, Hannah, despite her honourable status as the mother of the Prophet Samuel, to modern ears suggests a hard-working woman with muscular arms; who is "all there" at window-cleaning or the wash-tub.
As for Annie, it is all very well when conferred as a pet name by friends and kinsfolk, but life is too serious for a woman to use only a diminutive as her baptismal name. Yet fashion nowadays runs in that direction, and more babies probably are christened Annie than Anne.
Concerning Augusta, we will only say that there is something about the second syllable (still worse when shortened to Gussy or Gusta) which makes it an ugly sounding name. G makes an awkward consonant. It makes Agnes, despite its lamb-like derivation, sound harsh, especially when familiarised to Aggie.
The grand old name Elizabeth resembles the Indian banyan tree in the number of shoots and suckers which it sets forth. Bess, Bessie, Bet, Betty (once again fashionable), Betsy, Eliza and Lizzy, all sping from the parent tree. Ellen, Eleanor, and Isabella, too, belong to the same pedigree. How much depends on the association of ideas! Isabel both looks and sounds pretty ; Jezebel, a variant of the same, seems atrocious.
Catherine, spelt in four different ways, still holds its own as a favourite name, especially in its diminutive forms, Kate, Katie and Kitty ; but several other good old family appellatives are rarer than they were forty years ago. Among these may be mentioned Amelia, Charlotte, Caroline, Emma, Harriet, Julia and Matilda.
Emily is more in favour than Amelia, though both names have a common origin. Emma has possibly been vulgarised by its association with a song which a few years ago was in everybody's mouth.
In like manner Harriet has become a by-word, through its association with the 'Arry and 'Arriet of Bank Holiday notoriety. Time was when Henrietta and Harriet (especially when the latter was spelt with an o), had a savour of exclusive aristocracy. Lady Hariot and her yellow chariot seemed to be in as natural a position as a hand in a glove.
Another proof of the inconsistancy of fashion concerning names is afforded by Matilda and its diminutive Maud. While the former is decidedly out of date, the latter —both in novels and plays, as well as in real life — has been almost wearisomely popular for a good many years past.
When we see in the obituary the death of an old lady of seventy or eighty bearing the name of Ethel or Florence, we experience a sensation of surprise, and not without reason, for these names were rarely given in the earlier years of the century. They sprang into sudden popularity some 30 or 40 years ago, and are now so common that when the marriage list is tolerably long we are pretty sure to find an Ethel or a Florence figuring in it. The former name came into favour when Thackeray published "The Newcombes," there heroine of which story is an Ethel.
Jane and Jenny are still favourite names; so are Louisa and Lucy; so is Margaret with its variants, Madge, Maggie, Margery and Peggy; and so, we gladly records, is the simplest an sweetest of all names — Mary. When turned in Marie (that is, as an English name*) it loses its simplicity and becomes affected.
Any modern popularity which Martha possesses it gains through its diminutive, Patty, which bears little resemblance to its parent stem.
As a rule, it may be broadly stated that the poorer classes are gradually abandoning the good old traditional names, especially Scripture names, and are adopting all sorts of fine names, often borrowed from the sensational fiction which they peruse so eagerly. It is rare, nowadays, to find Sarahs and Susans among domestic servants, and the nobility will soon have a monopoly of those good old names; on the other hand, there is something incongruous about Yolande black-leading the parlour grate, or Gladys scrubbing the front steps. In actual facts, their highly refined names often cause these young ladies to "put up their backs" against such "menial" duties.
Lastly, let us call attention to the difference existing in the spelling of certain well-known names in this country and the United States. As a rule, the Americans use ie where we use y. They write Nellie, Lucie, Kittie, Sallie, Fannie, where we write Nelly, Lucy, Kitty, Sally and Fanny. But there is nothing more arbitrary than the spelling of the Anglo-American tongue, for our cousins write Katy and Jessy where we almost invariably write Katie and Jessie.— "The Globe."
The Newcastle Courant
24 September 1892
.
The author was right. In 1890, many more babies were registered as Annie than Ann or Anne.
*French Marie = ma-REE, English Marie = MARRY.
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