Quite a lot exists within a name. Only when one gets down to the task of examining the issue does one realise the extent of that. To start with, of course, we have the person within that name. The attachment up until recent times was there for life. It identified you for the rest of your days – whether you liked it or not.
The surname may have made you rather proud, in the case of Windsor, which is the name of the British royal family. Similarly, in Eswatini, the surname Dlamini is of royal heritage, though in a demographic sense, rather more broadly distributed. There have also been surnames in many languages that have given rise to ridicule and even distress to the holders; we can leave those.
As in many countries, the English culture enjoyed attaching the surname to the occupation of the original holder. Thus, Butcher and Baker and indeed Candlestick-maker, are names that reflected what the family did for a living. It was because the main commercial activity and means of transport for thousands of years was by horse, that the huge number of smithies was where all the hoof repair work was done. Not roof repair. That carried the name Spooner. Hoof repair at the smithy gave rise to the surname Smith; the most common then and still today.
Or the surname might have identified the geographical location of your family home. So, the Townsend family was so-called because they lived on the edge of town. My own surname has somewhat varying origins; it was the Welsh word for ‘coast-dweller’. My forefathers evidently spent all their time lazing on the shore, or playing beach football to the wilder standards of the time. While the wife did all the work. The more pompous members of the family would prefer to claim the origin as sea-defender or sea-chief; but quite what activity those indicated no one knows. In families of standing, of which the descendants were proud, a common name was Jones; which meant son of John.
Another area is that of business names that are designed to attract the public. A number of examples of these were seen along an elegant avenue to the centre of Southampton – the original departure point for the Pilgrim Fathers who set off in 1620 to pursue religious freedom. They ended up on the shores of Massachusetts, now an east coast state of the United States of America. In that English high street and rather fascinating, is the extent to which retailers endeavour to attract customer attention through the name of the shop. Nothing like ‘Marks and Spencer’, which attracts customers through the quality of its products rather than the name.
One of the first encountered was ‘ToniandGuy’, a name not familiar to the writer since it is a hairdressing salon. On entry it was encouraging to locate Toni, but the request for an opportunity for a similar engagement with Guy was met with the response: “He’s gone home to spend time with his Fawkes.”
That was my own, by the way, including (with your permission) the rather obviously fictitious component, so that the reader enjoys it to the full. Nonetheless, to get that bit of frivolity, you need to be aware of what happened on November 5, 1605, when a certain individual called Guy Fawkes was arrested, while in the middle of the Gunpowder Plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament in London, England. That attack never took place, but Guy Fawkes swung for it; giving birth to the pyrotechnical celebration of November 5 each year across the world.
The bar and restaurant ‘Grumpy Monkey’ proved a very pleasant surprise. Noone appeared to be in bad spirits as they downed the chosen spirits. Not a sign of the self-assessed grumpy character of, presumably, its owner. A similar venue was called ‘The Free House’ which again suggested a very convivial atmosphere and an obviously appreciative body of customers. Quite how the owner made any money, in this generous free-for-all, leaves one guessing. As you can imagine it was a popular spot. Little wonder, too, that the bar next door was called the ‘Giddy Bridge’.
A giddiness being a state more likely to exist within the customers than the bridge. Yet another bar further down was called ‘Scholars Arms’. No sign of anyone reading plays of Shakespeare or performing complex mathematical calculations. Just drinking, chatting and ‘sorting the world out’.
Coffee shops were also very popular. One carried the name ‘The Nest’. I’ve never seen so many beautiful birds. Then standing before a stylish looking service centre I encountered the ‘Hidden Hearing Centre’. I was startled; could one’s sense of hearing be removed, hidden and then restored at a price? I certainly hadn’t heard about that one. There again, my hearing had probably been hidden.
Down that part of the high street, when you weren’t drinking, you were eating. The first to behold was a restaurant called the ‘Slug and Lettuce’. No squeamish customers there, though I did observe them taking greater care than normal, while selecting from the menu. Next door was the ‘Smoke and Pepper’. Again, there was the need for careful identification of eating choices. Well, I guess if you had earlier been drinking next door at the ‘Tsunami Beach Bar’ you would have the more casual attitude to risk. Though, definitely not a safe place to sip your lager.
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