l name, or the trade-name; but the
place-name he probably would inherit. This explains the reason why so
large a majority of our modern surnames are place-names, whether in
respect of a town, as Nottingham, Debenham, Brentwood: or of a country
locality, as Brook, Lane, Hill, etcetera. Now and then a series of
Johns in regular descent would fix the name of Johnson on the family; or
the son and grandson pursuing the same calling as the father, would turn
the line into Tanners. All surnames have arisen in such a manner.

Our friends in Kepeharme Lane knew nothing of surnames otherwise than
personal, apart from the great territorial families of Norman
immigration, who brought their place-names with them. Manning Brown was
so termed from his complexion; his elder son, not being specially
remarkable, was known merely as Romund Fitz-Manning; but the younger, in
his boyhood of a somewhat impetuous temper, had conferred on him the
epithet of Haimet Escorceueille, or Burntown. The elder brother of
Manning was dubbed Gilbert Cuntrevent, or Against-the-Wind; and his two
sons, of whom one was the head porter, and another a watchman, at the
Castle, were called Osbert le Porter and Stephen Esueillechien, or
Watchdog,--the last term evidently a rendering of English into
_dog-French_. Our forefathers were apt hands at giving nicknames.
Their epithets were always direct and graphic, sometimes highly
satirical, some very unpleasant, and some very picturesque. Isel, who
was recognised as a woman of a complaining spirit, was commonly spoken
of as Isel the Sweet; while her next neighbour, who lorded it over a
very meek husband, received the pungent appellation of Franna
Gillemichel. [Note 2.]

The day after the arrival of the Germans, the porter's wife came down to
see her kindred.

"What, you've got some of those queer folks here?" she said in a loud
whisper to Isel, though Gerhardt was not present, and his wife and
sister could not understand a word she spoke.

"Ay, they seem decentish folks," was the reply, as Isel washed her
eel-like lampreys for a pie--the fish which had, according to tradition,
proved the death of Henry the First.

"Oh, do they so? You mind what you are after. Osbert says he makes no
account of them. He believes they're Jews, if not worse."

"Couldn't be worse," said Isel sententiously. "Nothing of the sort,
Anania. They say their prayers oftener than we do."

"Ay, but what to? Just tell me that.