A Brief History of Surnames

And how they often make it harder to locate women in history.

Hello, dear reader,

First off, I’m writing to you as a (legally) SINGLE WOMAN.

OMG!

It’s taken many months to get through the divorce process (and, again, I thank Caroline Norton every single day for giving women rights in the courtroom), but this situation got me thinking about my new identity.

Like 90% of women, I took my husband’s name when we married and I plan on keeping it, too. This name – Jones - is in print, it’s all over my business socials, it’s on every single bill and account I have, and, crucially, it’s also my daughter’s surname.

But where the heck do surnames come from?

Why do so many women take their husband’s name?

And why does the practice of taking a man’s name make it more difficult to locate women from history?

Let’s get into it.

What Did the Normans Ever Do For Us?

The answer to that is a lot, but, for our purposes today, they did two things:

1. They brought inherited surnames.

2. They brought coverture.

Let’s focus on inherited surnames first.

Surnames were already in use when the Normans invaded and colonised England in 1066, but they were not usually hereditary and tended to be based on your occupation, location or some other observable trait.

For example, if there are two Johns in your village, it’s helpful to have a way to distinguish between them. If John A is a cook, then he becomes John Cook, but maybe John B just LOVES the colour green, so he becomes John Green.

Epithets were common, too. Think: William the Conqueror. (Also known as William of Normandy to describe where he held land). He married Matilda of Flanders, so, again, this was connected to place and notice how it didn’t change. Matilda became Queen Matilda of England *and* Duchess of Normandy, but, to us, she’s still Matilda of Flanders.

Patronyms were also very common. William’s predecessor, Harold Godwinson was Harold, Son of Godwin. All of Godwin’s sons were ‘first name’ + Godwinson, in fact.

But while the Anglo-Saxons did not bequeath surnames to their children, the Normans did. For example, Robert de Beaumont fought at William’s side at the Battle of Hastings, and all nine of his children were called de Beaumont - even the girls.

By the late 1300s, this was common practice across England.

Women, Marriage and Surnames

The other Norman export was coverture. This is a legal principle in which a woman’s legal identity merges with that of her husband when they marry. Coverture massively impacted the way that married women navigated the world, right up to the 19^th century.

Because a married woman didn’t legally exist as an individual, she could not sign a contract, for example, or inherit property. She was completely dependent on her husband. However, it was and has never been a legal requirement for a woman to take her husband’s name, and we do see lots of variation.

For example, Geoffrey Chaucer, author of The Canterbury Tales, married Philippa.

Philippa had inherited her dad’s name – de Roet (meaning ‘of the Red’) and she kept that name, but, thanks to coverture, her children were Chaucers.

However, Philippa’s half-sister, Katherine, took her husband’s name and became Swynford. Why? I’m not sure, but interesting, right?

By the time we get to the 19^th century, we have so many examples of women taking their husband’s name, sometimes in its entirety. One of my favourite novels of this century is called East Lynne and it was written by a (married) woman called Ellen Wood. But, in public, she referred to herself as Mrs Henry Wood. And many of the women who feature in my new ebook about the history of women in STEM referred to themselves the same way.

Read this - I promise you won’t regret it.

But this creates some complications for historians trying to piece together a woman’s life, especially before she married. The simple act of changing a name is not so simple when you want to know the details of her life before marriage. It can be very complex, especially if she has a relatively common first name, you don’t know exactly when she married or even if she married in a large town or city.

You have no idea how hard it was to find ANYTHING about a woman scientist known only as “Mrs Fulhame.” Yes, I wanted to stab myself in the eye with my pen repeatedly.

As an aside, I feel like true reinvention means I should now make up a completely new surname for me and my daughter. Why take a man’s name when I can just shazam a brand new one?!

I’m thinking baddie medieval king meets modern, 2025, independent woman.

Kaye the Bold, for instance 🤣😜

While I go and mock up the new family Coat of Arms (I’m being deadly serious 🤣), here is all the absolutely cool shit that’s coming up. I’m EXCITED to be sharing as much of my knowledge as possible this year (and, hopefully, for many years after):

Until next time,

Kaye (the Bold)

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