We have nearly exhausted our space, and we shall content ourselves with making a few miscellaneous observations on etymologies scattered through our author's work, which appear to us erroneous or open to doubt.

We should think it very questionable whether the tribe of the 'Bucinobantes' had anything to do with the name of Buckenham in Norfolk (p. 311), or the family of the Bucings with that of Buckingham. We do not know if there are any beech trees in the neighbourhood of the former, but we have always supposed that Buckingham was so called from the buck,' or beechmast, abundantly produced on the chalk hills. Boc' is the AngloSaxon word for a beech tree, and the term 'buck' as applied to the mast is used by Evelyn in his 'Sylva.' He says: And in some parts of France they now grind the buck in mills.' (1812. V. i. p. 138.) It also forms the first syllable of 'buckwheat,' so called from the resemblance of the triangular grain to the kernel of the beechmast.

*

A critic in the Times' newspaper has called Mr. Taylor to account for the assertion that the last syllable in Braintree and some other similar names is the Celtic 'tre.' There are no doubt numerous exceptions to the ordinary rule of composition adopted in that language; some of these have been already quoted, but we believe that the author of the article to which we have already referred, was right in saying that when a British word is preserved in the modern name of a town, it usually forms the first syllable only of such name,† as in the cases of Yarmouth and Dorchester. The probability is certainly against the view taken by our author.

The same writer in the Times' has, we think, properly corrected a conjecture of Mr. Taylor with regard to the derivation from 'petites Ecuries' of the name 'Petty Cury' as applied to a street in Cambridge; and there is a still more elaborate letter on the subject in a later number of the same journal, signed 'C. H. Cooper.' In this communication it is stated that at the foot of a deed recording a fine in the 13th of Edward III. there is an engrossment, 'De tento. in Parva Cokeria.'‡ Pegge, in 1780, published a little book entitled 'The Forme of Cury, a rolle of ancient English Cookery, compiled about the year A.D. 1390, by the Master Cooke of King Richard II.' We take the middle age Latin word from which 'Cury' was derived to

*Times' Newspaper, March 30, 1864, and April 1, 1864. Edinburgh Review,' No. ccxxvi., p. 359.

It appears that this conjecture was made some years ago in 'Notes and Queries,' Mr. Cooper confirms it by other proofs which it is unnecessary to quote here, and refers to his Annals of Cambridge.'

be

be 'Coquinaria,' and the whole name, 'Petty Cury,' to have been equivalent to Little Cook's Row.'

The discussion on the names of stuffs is exceedingly curious and interesting. That Calico, Damask, and Muslin, point respectively to Calicut, Damascus, and Mousul, there can be little doubt. Chintz is derived however from Cheent or Cheet, the Hindustani word for colour and for chintz; it means, therefore, spotted or coloured stuff. Diez tells us that the Italian 'Fustagno' and Spanish Fustan' came from Fostat or Fossat, a suburb of Cairo. Gaza may possibly have given its name to 'gauze,' as Baldacca or Bagdad did to the Italian Baldacchino,' which has been applied to a canopy, because canopies were made of a costly stuff called Baldach.' Cambric' and 'Diaper' are derived from Cambray and Ypres (d'Ypres). Thus far we are prepared to go along with our author, but we confess that we were startled when we came upon the following passage :—

6

'Another colony of clothworkers was settled on the river Toucques in Normandy. From the name of this river we derive a whole family of words. In German the general name of cloth is Tuch, and in old English Tuck-white trousers are made of Duck, our beds are covered with ticking, and our children wear tuckers at their meals.'-p. 444.

It is much more likely that the river Toucques was so called from the fact that cloth was manufactured there, than that all this family of words came from the name of that stream. One fact alone is sufficient to overthrow the latter theory. The word 'dûkr’ occurs twice in the Rigsmâl, one of the divisions of Sæmund's Edda. In the first of these passages it is used very much in the sense of tucker;' 'dûkr var â halsi,'—'a kerchief was on her neck. In the second, a striped or embroidered cloth (merktr dûkr) is spoken of. It is found, moreover, in Otfried and in the Low German dialects from very early times, and we leave it to our readers to judge how far it is probable that a name derived from a river in Normandy should thus have established itself, by a sort of reaction, in the languages of all Germany and Scandinavia.

Another error of the same kind, arising probably from haste on our author's part, is to be found in his derivation of 'gant' 'a glove,' and 'gauntlet,' from the city of Ghent or Gaunt. A reference to his favourite authority, Diez's Etymological Dictionary, would have shown Mr. Taylor that the middle-age Latin word 'wantus,' or 'guantus,' for a glove, can be traced back to very early times. It is used by Bede, and spoken of by him as a French term; but the kindred form exists in Icelandic,* and in

the

* The reader may think that the resemblance of 'vöttr' with ' guant' or' vant is very remote, but the apparent dissimilarity is easily explained, and affords a capital

6

the Danish Vanter,' which means usually, we believe, knitted mittens.' Besides this, it remains in early legal formulæ of the 9th and 10th century, which may be found quoted by Grimm.*

Mr. Taylor seems inclined to deduce 'dimity' from the name of the place, Damietta; though he alludes in a note to the supposed derivation from the Greek, with the meaning 'two threads.' There is, we conceive, no doubt whatever on the point. If 'dimity' stood alone, some question might be raised; but when we find a number of different words formed on the same principle, the discussion is at an end. The following passage is quoted by Ducange (in v. Dimitum) from Hugo Falcandus, a writer on the affairs of Sicily of the time of Frederic Barbarossa :

'Hinc enim videas (in officinâ pannorum) amita, dimita et trimita minori peritiâ sumtuque perfici: hinc exhimita uberioris materiæ copiâ condensari.' That is to say, if this reading is "From this manufactory you may see correct, 99.66 "amita, dimita," and " trimita," worked up with a smaller amount of skill and may see, too, "exhimita" made thick with abundance of richer material.'

expense. You

Silk-weaving was common in Sicily and in Venice about the middle of the 12th century. King Roger brought Greek weavers from Constantinople,† and in the passage translated above, if the context does not show that the material was silk, we should take 'amita' to mean 'stuffs of no thread,' or a species of 'shoddy.' If it bears that sense it would be singular to find such a fabric at so early a time. The 'stuff of six threads,' commonly written 'examitum,' or 'hexamitum' (i.e. eğáμTOS), was that which was called in old English 'Samite,' in old French 'Samy,' and which meets us in the modern German Sammet,' as the name corresponding

capital example of the worthlessness of etymology when based only on accidental concurrence of sounds without reference to the laws of the language. The genitive of vöttr is vattar: here the a of the root reappears; it is changed into o in the nominative, because in early times the final syllable in that case was ur, and an u in the termination, according to the laws of euphony in Icelandic, converts the a in the first syllable into the diphthong ö. The reader will find this law examined by Mr. Key in the 5th volume of the Proceedings of the Philological Society' (pp. 192-196). The German second person 'schläfst' from 'schlafen,' 'to sleep, is an example of it; so probably are velim' and 'velle' from ‘volo' in Latin. In Greek we believe that it will account for the irregular declension of the pronoun οὗτος, αὕτη, τοῦτο. It will be seen at once that wherever the O-sound occurs in the syllable of inflection the same vowel is required in the root. Wherever the a (or n) comes into the termination, a corresponding change is made in the first syllable. The original n in 'vöttr' and vattar' has been assimilated to the t which follows it, as in batt,' the perfect of ‘binda,' to bind, and many other words. Grimm, Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer,' s. 162.

† See Raumer's Hohenstaufen,' b. v., s. 333. In old High-German the words Zwilich and Drilich denoted different qualities of cloth, and answer to the English Twill and Drill.-See Ziemann Mittelhochdeutsches Wörterbuch' (in vv.)

to

to velvet.' This last word of ours comes of course from the Italian velluto,' denoting the peculiar surface (villosum); but the Spanish word 'terciopelo' is curious, because it seems to signify the use of three threads in lieu of six. Perhaps, however, the two may be reconciled in the following manner. Let us suppose that the element representing thread' in the name of the stuff, referred especially to the extra thread by means of which 'the pile' of velvet is formed. This is done by leaving a series of loops projecting on the face of the stuff, but woven into the body of it. These rows of loops are afterwards cut through by an instrument now called a 'trevat,' and thus the peculiar surface of velvet is given. Now it is clear that three loops, or a loop of three threads, would, when severed, produce six projecting points or ends of silk. The Spanish word, therefore, may denote the original formation of the uncut loops, and the Greek may have marked the number of threads produced from them when they were cut open.

Our readers may like to know that' satin is 'setinus,' the adjective from 'seta.' This last word is nothing more than the Latin 'seta, a bristle or strong hair.' Originally 'Seta Serica' seems to have been the term employed for silk. The German for satin' Atlas,' is taken from the Arabic and Persian.* Like the Italian raso,' it denotes the smooth surface, and is exactly the reverse of 'velluto.'

But we must turn for a moment from stuffs of silk to those composed of wool. Mr. Taylor says: 'An analogous but more obscure etymology is that of the word "blanket," which was first manufactured by one Thomas Blacket, a citizen of Bristol.' (P. 451.) If this be so, Mr. Blacket must have lived a good while ago, and his goods must have acquired an extensive foreign sale. Richelet tells us: On paioit autrefois les Régens de l'Université moitié en argent, et moitié en étoffe de laine blanche dont ils faisoient des chemisettes, que l'on apelloit "blanchet." The word occurs too among the names of stuffs which the nuns of Fontévraud were permitted to wear. The form blanketus' meets us exactly in its present sense in a licence or Order in Council to the officers (oddly enough) of the port of Bristol, permitting the Pope's collector to export certain household goods in the year 1382: among these are enumerated quinque paria linthiaminum et duos blanketos pro uno lecto;' and again, 'quatuor strictas tunicas de blanketo." One of the quotations given by Ducange is from a monastic rule of the date of 1152, where certain clothing is ordered to be made de blancheto.' In Palgrave's curious

6

* Compare Diez in v. Seto, s. 317. Ducange in v. Setinus.
† See Rymer's 'Fœdera,' vol. vii., p. 356, col. 1.

'Esclarcissement

'Esclarcissement de la langue Française,' composed in the time of Henry VIII., blanket cloth' is represented in French by 'blanchet.' The name evidently came from the absence of colour.

The etymology of our word flannel is a little more obscure. No doubt if we did not find it in Italian (flanella), in Spanish (franella), and in French (flanelle), we might be inclined, notwithstanding the accent, to suppose that it was derived from Llanelly in Wales. Shakspere speaks of 'Welsh flannel;' but we have here also a middle-age Latin word 'flaneha,' and a doubtful form 'flamineum' in Ducange. Diez thinks it may possibly have come from 'velamen.' The present Welsh name for this stuff, gwlanen,' means simply 'woollen;' yet it has a suspicious correspondence in general cadence and accent with the English word, though it differs in the initial letter. We are inclined to think that the two forms may have run together, and become confounded in the popular use.

At page 454, 454, our author tells us that there was a small coin of Genoa called a 'Jane,' which is spoken of both by Chaucer and Spenser. It is not a little singular to find this word still existing in the London slang of the present day. In the law report of the 'Times' of the 14th of April, 1864, George Hines, a witness at the trial of John Devine for murder, is reported as saying, 'He had told me before I went out, that I could keep half a Jane. A Jane is a sovereign.'

We are sorry to meet again the old figment of the explanation of the sign of the Goat and Compasses,' from a supposed Puritan motto, God encompasseth us.' We never saw any

evidence that such a motto was in current use, and the true solution of the origin of the sign was given long ago in the additions and corrections to one of the early editions of Mr. Peter Cunningham's excellent Handbook of London.* In the church of Sta. Maria in Capitolio at Cologne, in front of one of the altars is a sculptured slab, covering the vault of the Members of the Honourable the Wine Coopers' Company,' 'Eines ehrbaren Wein und Fass-Ampts,' with the date 1693. The arms on that slab have for one of the principal charges a pair of compasses, whilst the supporters are two goats. It seems very probable, therefore, that these arms were branded on the Rhenish casks, and may have been taken as an appropriate sign for an inn or "Vintner's' house. Another rash conjecture made or adopted by Mr. Taylor occurs at p. 468, where he asserts that our word 'humbug' is a corruption of 'Hamburg,' and originated in the false reports propagated from that city 'during the great European

*See edition of 1850, p. 65.

war.'