The Hall of Waltheof/Chapter XXIV

ISTORIANS and others who have written about the Danes in England have usually been content to rely on the names of well-known villages or townships as evidence of colonization by that people. But it would be more satisfactory to take the field-names of a parish, or of a township, as they occur in modern terriers and maps, or better still as they are found in old charters, wills, or title deeds, and try to learn from them to what extent this influence prevailed. In such a country as the United States of America, the language of American-Indian tribes is indelibly impressed upon the local names. In like manner we can still trace upon the face of English land evidence that Danish settlers established their language in many places amongst us. Although Old Norse and Anglo-Saxon are dialects of the same parent language, the American parallel which I have just drawn is applicable to the present case. Where the language of American-Indian tribes has ceased to be spoken their place-names yet adhere to the soil. And where the language of the Norsemen once spoken in some parts of England has been supplanted by the language, or rather by the dialect, more usually spoken, the Norse fieldnames have often remained. In process of time the Norse settler became, as it were, Anglicized, but he had spoken his own tongue or dialect and established his own system of local government on our shores long before he adopted the more common speech. When names have been given to places, such names are not easily changed. The dialect may be supplanted by the universal speech, or, as in the case of Cornwall, the language of the dominant people may efface the language of the weaker people. But the names of places often remain unchanged, and they preserve a lasting record of the nationality of the former inhabitants or occupants of those places.

If we find an abundance of Old Norse field-names existing in any district; if such a word as "storth," not found in Anglo-Saxon or Old English, is common everywhere in that district; if the dialect of that district still retains a flavour of Danish influences; if traces of Scandinavian mythology can be found in the place-names, and in the folklore, of that district—if, I say, we find all these things existing together, the conclusion is inevitable that the language of the Norsemen was once spoken there. It is not at all necessary to suppose that the Norsemen occupied the whole district; on the contrary aboriginal races as well as other Germanic tribes may have dwelt there also and spoken their own dialects or languages. But we are bound to believe that the Norseman not only made good his footing in the district, but established his language and customs there. And that being so, the old Norse literature of which such splendid remains have come down to us is obviously the best of all guides to a right understanding of the early history of any Danish colony or district in England. That literature, with its tales of daring adventure, its poetry, its mythology, its lives of heroes, and with its striking details of domestic manners reveals to us the daily life and customs of the Northmen who settled amongst us. It is interesting to trace these settlements in field-names and town-names. By doing so an enduring charm is given to local history, for the inquirer soon becomes conscious that he is dealing with something nobler than a few quaint or forgotten words. He is led insensibly into that great literature which should have more interest for Englishmen than any other literature, and the district with which he is dealing becomes peopled with men and women with whose thoughts and ways he may make himself familiar in the pages of the Icelandic historian and Saga-writer.

I submit a few specimens of place-names found in this district which appear to me to be of Scandinavian origin. The first of these, Normandale, is interesting not only as direct evidence of Danish colonization, but also as being a name of the valley in which the mythical Robin Hood, alias Robert Loxley, is said to have been born. "Robert Locksley," says Dodsworth, "born in Bradfield parish, in Hallamshire, wounded his stepfather to death at plough; fled into the woods, and was relieved by his mother till he was discovered."

Normandale.—In an old map without date, but made about 1720, I find, amongst other curious field-names in the Loxley valley, Normandale. This is now the name of a farm house opposite Wadsley House. Formerly it must have been applied to the whole valley which leads up to Bradfield. We may take it to have been Norðmanna-dalr, the dale of the Northmen or Norwegians. The name can hardly have been a modern invention; 1720 is too early for a fancy name in this district.

Butterthwaite—a place in Ecclesfield. Thwaite—Old Norse þveit—is one of the words which imply Danish colonization. Properly it is a "cut-off piece," a paddock. "It seems," says Vigfusson, "originally to have been used of an outlying cottage with its paddock." Possibly the word is búðar-þveit, booth paddock, like búðar-dalr, Booth-dale. The búð, like the skáli, was a temporary dwelling, and we may compare Fulwood Booth and Barber Booth near Edale in Derbyshire. These booths may have been the temporary huts of early settlers or merchants, or they may have been the shifting homesteads of nomadic tribes. We may compare Hebblethwaite, in which the first part of the word is the Swedish hybele, Old Norse híbýli, a homestead, house.

Eventree.—Harrison in his Survey, 1637, speaks of a piece of land which "lyeth in Haldworth called Timber field betweene the Eventree lane and Loxley common." This is the Old Norse efni-tré, a block, timber, and is itself a very interesting proof of Scandinavian settlement in the neighbourhood. Wilson, of Broomhead Hall, mentions a house in Bradfield which, in his time, was known as Heaven House. It possibly meant timber house, the initial h being excrescent, or interpretative.

Roystymore.—I find this place mentioned in a deed dated 1684 affecting lands at Worrall in Bradfield. "Roysty" appears to be the Old Norse hrjóstugr, rough, barren, so that the meaning may be rough or barren moor.

Jeer Lane.—This is in Eckington, a few miles from the boundary of Hallamshire, but I introduce it here as being, apparently, an interesting Scandinavian word. Jeer Lane is one of those deep lanes which are found here and there in country parishes, and of which there are several in the parish of Dronfield. They appear in some cases to have been excavated down to the rock for the purpose of getting a hard stratum, but the combined action of the flow of water and the passage of the heavy vehicles once in use will account for the depth of some of them. Jeer Lane goes deeply below the surface of the ground in some places, and I take it to be the Old Norse gjá, a rift or chasm. This would very appropriately describe the lane. The phonology, however, is uncertain, as one would expect such a form as geo, geow, found in the north of Scotland.

Storth.—This field-name is common everywhere in Hallamshire, and is the Old Norse storð, a young wood or plantation. It affords certain evidence of Danish colonization. It is often found as the name of a cultivated field, which at a former period has been reclaimed from the forest or the waste. Thus I find Harry Stubbing and Broad Storth as two contiguous fields. The word mörk, mark, which originally meant a forest, came afterwards, when the forest was cleared, to mean a field. And a new meaning was given to storð in the same way, for, as found in this district, it means field. Duxter Wood in Ecclesfield is "Dukstorth" Wood in a deed of the fifteenth century, which I have seen. Possibly the first syllable is dökk, a pit, pool. It is interesting to see how storth has become ster, owing to the strong accent on the first syllable. I am told by Mr. Ronksley that Storrs in or near Bradfield appears as Storths in old deeds affecting lands in that place, and that he is sure of the identity of the names. Dukstorth, the modern Duxter, certainly bears out this view, except that in a word of two syllables the strong accent on the first would weaken the second, whereas in a monosyllable this would not occur.

Malin Bridge.—Malin may stand for Melum, as Hallin in old deeds stands for Hallum. At Melum in Old Norse is a sandhill, the letter e being sounded like the a in same. Possibly we have the same word in the surname Maleham, which I have seen written Malum in the sixteenth century. More probably Malin is the dative plural of möl, pebbles, worn stones in the bed of a river.

Redmires.—Rauða-myrr, red moor, is a local name in Iceland, and it, together with other local names in which rauðr is a prefix, has reference, says Vigfusson, to "the reddish colour of bogs and moorlands, which was supposed to be a sign that there was iron in the soil."

Worrall.—This word is the Old Norse hvirfill, top, summit, as in hvirfill fjallsins, the top of the hill. It is represented in English by "whorl" or "whirl," and we have the same word in the place-name Whirlow, or, as it was often written, Whorlow, near Sheffield, which means summit mound, hill top barrow. The strong trill with which the letter r was pronounced will account for the form Worrall. "Whorl" would become Worrall just as "worm" would be sounded something like "worrum." The hamlet of Worrall stands on the summit of a hill. I think it is not identical with the Wihala of the Doomsday Survey.

Bagshaw.—I find a "Bagshaw Field" in Ecclesall in 1807. Can it be the Old Norse bæki-skógr, beech-wood?

Steven Hill : Stephen Hill.—This place is near Cross Pool on the Manchester Road. The earliest mention of it with which I am acquainted is in Harrison's Survey, 1637, where it occurs as Steven Hill. There is also a Stephen Field at Dore. It may be the Old Norse stefna, a summons, meeting, as in nátt-stefna, a night meeting, Old English stefn. In that case Steven Hill would mean meeting hill, and possibly refer to an open-air court, such as a byrlaw court, held in this place.

Bell Hagg.—The name may be derived from the Old Norse bil, Swedish bil, bili, an open space, and hagi, a pasture, so that the meaning would be "the intervening pasture." This might be the open space between Stannington and Hallam. There is a field in Cold-Aston near Sheffield called Bilham Field which may be *at bilum, open space. Billey Wood in Ecclesfield is written Bilhagh Wode in a deed dated 1366.

Reaps Wood : Lower Reaps.—These places are between Crookes village and Rivelin Water. The ground is rocky and precipitous, and there are crags. "Reap" is the Old Norse ripr, a crag, and the dialect must once have had a word "reep," "reap," having that meaning.

Copman Holes: Cogman Clough.—Just below Bailey Hill in Bradfield the six-inch Ordnance map mentions a place called Copman Holes. The English form of the word would have been Chapman Holes. This word is the Old Norse kaup-maðr. Swedish köpman, a merchant, traveller, chapman. From this place-name, and from such place-names as Tinker Lane, Tinker Brook, which occur in the neighbourhood, we may learn that travelling merchants, chapmen, tinkers, and others went about the country selling their wares, and, not always finding an inn, squatted like gypsies in uncultivated places. The modern "Cheap Jack," whose wagon is his house, seems to be a survival of these itinerant chapmen and tinkers, some of whom, I dare say, were too poor to afford the accommodation of an inn, even if one existed in the neighbourhood.

The same Ordnance map gives a place on the wild moors to the west of Bradfield called Cogman Clough. Cogman appears to mean "shipman," and if that were so, the name would be equivalent to Shipman's Valley, and similar in meaning to Copman Holes. There is an Old English word cogge, in Old Norse kuggr, Swedish kogg, meaning a boat or ship, and Mr. Bardsley mentions a personal name Cogman as occurring in an old Norfolk Register. It is possible therefore that the cogman was a shipman, the word being used in the sense of a trader or merchant.

Sower Lands.—I find this field-name at Attercliffe in a map dated 1789, and it is of somewhat common occurence in the neighbourhood of Sheffield. It is the Old Norse saurr, mud, dirt, and in Icelandic local names it is applied to swampy tracts. Vigfusson says that seyra, starvation, famine, is derived from saurr in its oldest sense as applied to bogs and moorland.

Waddle Moor.—This is the name of a field which I have seen in a modern deed affecting land at Brinsworth near Templeborough. It is the Old Norse vaðill, shallow water, and has reference to a swampy moor.

Knaught's Bridge Close.—This is also near Templeborough, and reminds us of Knightsbridge in London. In spite of the gh and the s the word appears to mean "cattle bridge," from the Old Norse naut, Scotch nout, English neat, cattle, and the word may have been nauts-bryggia or nauta-bryggja. I have seen Knouchbridge in a rental of land at Whiston in 1624. I have also seen Nightengale as a place-name in North Derbyshire, and the word also occurs as a surname. I think it means "cattle lane," and may have been nietena-gál, for the Old Norse geil, a narrow passage or lane, would make gál in Old English. The spelling seems to have been assimilated to that of the well-known bird which sings by night.

The Chaffer.—Harrison in 1637 mentions a meadow in Bradfield "called the Chaffer lying next Darwin water," or the Derwent. Thus "The Chaffer" is a meadow by the river side. The word seems to be connected with the Old Norse verb kefja, to put under water, and kaf, a plunge into water—a word which is also applied to "land covered with water or flooded." Possibly the word kaf was originally kafr, which might make "chaffer."

Galland Royd.—This is the name of a field or place in Ecclesfield. "I see," says an old writer, "in some meddowes gaully places, where little or no grasse at al groweth, by reason (as I take it,) of the too long standing of the water." And the same writer says that in underwoods there are "sundry void places and galles, wherein groweth little or no wood, or very thin." In the south of England gauls are "spots where grass, corn, or trees have failed." They are, in short, barren places. The word is the Old Norse galli, a fault, or flaw, and may be compared with the Swedish gall, barren. Galland then means barren land, and Royd is the Old Norse rjóðr, a clearing. Thus the word tells the history of the place; it is a tract of land reclaimed from a barren wilderness.

Fair Flat.—This is mentioned by Harrison as a place in Bradfield. The meaning is sheep plain, from the Old Norse fær, a sheep, and flöt, a plain.

Snaithing.—There is a Snaithing Lane at Upper Ranmoor, and a Snaithing Wood at Ecclesall. Harrison mentions "a close called Sneathing," which lay next to "Sneathing Lane." Indeed Snaithing is a somewhat common field-name in the neighbourhood of Sheffield. It is connected with the Old Norse sneiða, to cut, and with sneið, a slice. A "snaithing" is a cutting, an intake, a piece sliced off the waste, in other words an enclosure. Some of the land at Upper Ranmoor is copyhold, and I have lately seen the title deeds of a long strip of land there which is partly of freehold and partly of copyhold tenure, the division being longitudinal. The copyhold portion is said to have been part of the New Ing, and in the last century the freehold portion was enclosed from the waste by an Inclosure Act. These names, Snaithing and New Ing, show how the area of the cultivated land was gradually widened by "intakes" or encroachments on the waste.