Every time I go to a pizza restaurant I spend some time examining the menu. Do I want a fiorentina? Or a veneziana? Each time, without fail, I will end up choosing a margherita. Every single time. You can’t go wrong with a good margherita. But I take comfort in the thought that, however lazy and unimaginative I might be, at least I’m not as bad as the medieval English nobility.
‘Even by your standards this is a bit of a reach,’ I hear you say. Or at least I would hear you say if I ever listened to feedback. Leave me to my pizza and my Very Important Subject.
The early medieval period wasn’t so bad, for men at least. Every woman in England at the time was named Eleanor, except when they were named Matilda, but there was more variety for males. John of Gaunt, for example, had a son named Lionel, which, for full effect, should be heard in the voice of Judi Dench. And among Henry II’s children was one named Banjo. This is a genuine fact and it would be a waste of time looking it up.
Although there was variety, still there were limits, in a country still dominated by French nobles. Henry III caused alarm when he broke with tradition and looked to pre-Norman times when naming his first-born. Edward was a controversial choice at the time. What was wrong with good traditional French names, like William, John or Henry even? However, the name would come to lose its novelty, and for that we have the House of York to blame.
Richard of Cambridge begat Richard of York, father to Edward, George and Richard. Edward named his own children Edward and Richard. George followed by giving his offspring the imaginative names of Edward and Richard. Richard of Gloucester only had one legitimate child, who he chose to call Edward. So Richard of York had no need of mnemonics to remember the names of his grandsons, though he may have battled in vain to distinguish between them. (His brother-in-law and his son were also both named Richard, hence the expression ‘an embarrassment of Richards’.) Yorkist women, by contrast, tended to be called Elizabeth, with the occasional Margaret thrown in to spice things up a little.
It was Richard duke of Gloucester who put an end to the popularity of one name, due to his alleged misbehaviours. As king Richard III he was considered a bit authoritarian, even by the standards of medieval rulers. Among his less infamous though more intriguing acts was the sacking of one minister over ‘an indiscretion with the seal’, which makes modern political scandals seem tame. Richard was not survived by legitimate issue, and famously died without even a horse to his name.
Tradition, continuity, stability. All sound like worthy goals. But often they can be like the ‘lighter’ pizzas with salad in the middle – it seems like a good choice at the time, but is always regretted.
The name Edward, not so tainted, continued for another three kings. This may seem excessive, but compares favourably with the French, who only lost enthusiasm for the name Louis after eighteen goes. Again, unfortunately, it took large-scale bloodshed for the point to get across. The Tudor period, with its showiness and intellectualism, saw a new beginning for the country onomastically. That only half of Henry VIII’s wives had the same first name showed a huge leap in the imagination of the aristocracy.
The best margherita I have ever had was in Lisbon, the night Portugal won the European cup.
Impractical Entomography 