Directions for Research (or, Why Everyone in History Has the Same Name)

(With excuses to those who have already seen this topic elsewhere).

Another ongoing theme from my own research is the fact that everyone I study has the same name (e.g. Jeanne de Penthièvre, Jeanne de Flandre, Jeanne de Montfort, Jean de Montfort, Jean IV de Montfort, Jean de Blois-Penthièvre, Jean III, Jean II le Bon; Charles de Blois, Charles V, Charles VI....) As a matter of fact, it appears that 25% of the nobility in Brittany was called "Jean". Meanwhile, it was common, when a lineage had been reduced to a single heiress, for her husband to be required to take up the family first name of his spouse, to carry it on;* and a couple would happily name more than one child that simultaneously, as did certain dukes of Brittany. And even if a child may have originally had a different first name, upon their inheritance it might well "revert"; Duke Jean V was Pierre until 1399.

This stream of discoveries prompted some of my friends to propose a new avenue for future research, which, in its edited form, I have decided to reproduce here in order to stimulate a broader historical community:

One of the most under-researched aspects of the fourteenth century is the chronic first name shortage. Feudal lords responded by pressuring their serfs to concentrate on Jean(ne), a hardy and resilient  name crop which was intended to prevent identity famine. However, the resulting overproduction led to a surplus which caused, and continues to cause, a gret deal of confusion. The effects of this "name poverty" and associated strife are particularly striking in Brittany of the period, but in this they were reflecting the longstanding trend in increasing first-name poverty within the French monarchy. Whereas under the Merovingian kings name innovation was at its peak, under the Carolingians name repetition increased perceptibly. Full repetitive name disorder, however, did not develop until the Capetians, after whom virtually all French kings were called Louis, Philip, or Charles. By the fourteenth century, the name event horizon had been passed and all kings for all intents and purposes became the same person. Even the desperate attempt to introduce new names such as 'Henry', 'Jean', and 'François' were thoroughly unsuccessful. Name confusion of this kind resulted in increasing social and political unrest. Although the trend of name poverty amongst the serfs was a passing phase, it became increasingly institutionalized in the French monarchy. With the growing social mobility of the mercantile classes, the gap in name density between the two social levels became more apparent. The lack of name-variation dehumanized the monarchy and soon became a symbol of social repression, the more rigid name-systems of the aristocracy opposing the innovative name-culture brought about by the budding third estate. The situation reached a breaking point with a chain of for Kings 'Louis' from 1610-1792, which culminated in the French Revolution.

In case some people might be confused, this is entirely spurious; the trends highlighted are for the most part entirely false. However, what makes it work so well for me is that the idea of a title-holder "for all intents and purposes" being the same person is, in fact, exactly what the idea was, especially as the monarchy transformed into something superior to the individual holder of the role. Hidden truths...

And for the record, some historians seem hell-bent on calling Duke Jean IV of Brittany Jean V, his son Jean VI, and his father Jean IV (he never actually had any number, not being a duke). FOR THE LOVE OF ALL WE HOLD DEAR, PLEASE STOP. The numbers are all we have to save us from the madness. Leave them alone.

That is all.


*Philippe Contamine gives an impressive list of "family first names"; for instance, sons of the Laval family (in Brittany) took the name Guy, those of the Coucy family were Enguerran, and so on. Meanwhile, the husband of Anne de Laval, formerly known as Jean de Montfort, was required to become "Guy de Laval", making him the thirteenth of that name after Anne's father, the twelfth--and if he refused the name, he would be subject to a fine of 100,000 livres! (see La noblesse au royaume de France de Philippe le Bel à Louis XII, 217-8).