matters. Map (son) seems to have been an epithet common in the Brittonic world, with attestations in Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany.27 Out of the dozen or so Welsh occurrences, two instances help explain what map means when used in this way: “Gruffudd Ddu ap Ieuan Fab ap Ieuan Las” and “Gruffudd Fab ap Gruffudd Gŵyr ap Cydifor.”28 (The word fab is merely mab with an expected initial mutation.) Since both Ieuan and Gruffudd have the same name as their fathers, it seems here that the use of map as an epithet parallels the way some British authors use Latin filius (son) to mean “junior” or “the younger.”29 French fitz (son) and English son were also used in a similar manner.30 It is not surprising that Welsh witnesses an analogous development. Nevertheless, this use of map does not seem to have been widespread, and it never overtook the much more common bychan (lit. “little”) in this regard. Nonetheless, the few instances of Map along the border could be explained as borrowings of this Welsh practice, perhaps in mixed families, rather than a nickname that the English and French applied to those of Welsh affiliations. Welsh attestations, after all, outnumber those from east of the border, and the English instances of Map appear only in places where Welsh (or Cornish) speakers were nearby.
Reading Map as “junior” also has the advantage of making the two occurrences of the surname Mappeson more intelligible. The semantic path from the nickname junior to the first name Junior is quite clear, as witnessed by the rise of Junior as a first name in the United States. These Mappesons, therefore, might have had a father whose nickname Map (junior) overtook his baptismal name. Yet such an interpretation remains puzzling given “Walter Map son of Walter Map of Wormsley,” since the entire point of Map was to distinguish father from son. Perhaps the meaning of Map was lost when it passed out of Welsh usage and into an Anglo-Norman context? In any case, even if it is not entirely certain that Map was a nickname bestowed upon those with Welsh affiliations, it does seem reasonable to understand the name as one of the many tokens of the cultural mélange of the Anglo-Welsh borderlands.
Indeed, although we have no sure evidence, Walter’s familiarity with the border strongly suggests that he was a native of the March. He twice refers to the Black Mountain, which straddles southwest Herefordshire and Powys.31 He also displays some detailed local knowledge of Ross, Wollaston, Beachley, Aust Cliff, and the Forest of Dean.32 Furthermore, some of the Welsh tales are set in the lordships immediately east of the Black Mountain.33 And he sets a short exemplum illustrating the hotheadedness of the Welsh at Hay-on-Wye, a strategic border town in the area.34 He also held land, at least later in his life, at Ullingswick in Herefordshire, about fifteen miles west of Offa’s Dyke. Moreover, the patronage of Gilbert Foliot may not have been the only factor in Walter’s election as a canon of Hereford, as the chapter had a strong preference for local sons.35 In light of these facts, the general critical impression has been that Walter’s homeland is “somewhere south of Hereford.”36
One possibility that deserves special consideration is Archenfield, or Ergyng in Welsh, the southwestern portion of Herefordshire, where Walter held the church of Westbury-on-Severn. Although Archenfield lay on the English side of the river Wye and although today it is a thoroughly anglicized part of Herefordshire, during Walter’s time Archenfield was starkly Welsh in character and overwhelmingly populated by Welshmen.37 Even late into the fifteenth century, the area was still regarded as a place “where the king’s writ could not be served.”38 Archenfield fits with all of the available facts of Walter’s life. Here, the Welsh would have definitely been his countrymen, yet he could claim without any evasion that he was born in England. If he did not call Archenfield home, he was nonetheless intimately familiar with the general area—much more so than with any other place mentioned in the De nugis curialium.
Certainly, not all border dwellers were the same, and, as far as can be inferred, Walter’s background differed from that of his colleague Gerald of Wales in a few important ways. In Walter’s case, the scale of English-Welsh identity is tipped toward the English side. Gerald’s birth in Wales and kinship with Welsh princes proved easy targets for his enemies, who managed to thwart his aspirations, in part by making his identity as a Marcher suspect.39 Walter never mentions any persecution of this sort. His royal patronage, it must be said, rested on surer footing. His parents had served Henry II, both before and after he took the throne, and so even if Walter did have some ancestral relationship with Wales, it did not cause unease in either Gilbert Foliot or the king, his two major patrons.40 But if Walter was part Welsh, at any remove, he never claimed it, as the De nugis curialium speaks with one voice in describing Walter as a Marcher, but not a Welshman. Walter never once uses the words Cambria and Cambrensis to refer to Wales and the Welsh, but rather the nonnative terms Wallia and Wallenses. (In this respect, however, Walter could merely be an early adopter, as the terms Wallia and Wallenses were being adopted by Welsh writers in the twelfth century.)41 Moreover, Walter calls the Welsh his “compatriots” (compatriote)—a remark that has at times led readers astray.42 But compatriota implies little about ethnicity or culture, meaning only someone from the same district, county, or country as oneself.43 Though he may have lived among the Welsh, he still considered England his country. In a particularly revealing passage, Walter speaks of a promising young man and boasts they are related (“de cuius cognacione glorior”).44 When his young relative passes overseas to serve Philip I, Count of Flanders, Walter says that “he left England, his mother and mine” (matrem nostram et suam Angliam exiuit).45 A clearer statement of national identity would be hard to find.
Yet for all that, Walter shows a deeper familiarity, and even understanding, of the Welsh than might be expected of someone who calls England his mother. He uses a few Welsh terms: brycan (cloth; blanket) and brenhin (king).46 And he has some decent knowledge of southeastern Wales, gained through personal experience, oral culture, and literary sources.47 While many of his Welsh stories are tailor-made for relating Welsh stereotypes, others show a more nuanced interest in Welsh history and culture. Walter even knows a bit about Welsh law.48 Further testimony of Walter’s knowledge of Welsh culture is found in Gerald’s nomination of Walter for the bishop of St. Davids. When the archbishop of Canterbury asked him to put forward the names of suitable candidates who were born in England (“de Anglia oriundus”), Gerald begrudgingly suggested John of Brancaster and Walter Map in 1203.49 John, according to Gerald, is learned and knows Welsh (“linguae nostrae non inscium”).50 Walter, whom Gerald celebrates for his eloquence and wit, has knowledge of the mores of both the Welsh and the English in Wales (morumque gentis utriusque terrae), because they are his neighbors (vicinitate locorum) and because he has had repeated dealings with them (frequentia).51 Since Gerald showed an interest in language surprising for his age, his silence on Walter’s ability to speak Welsh, especially after he has just praised John of Brancaster for knowing it, strongly implies that Walter would not have been able to converse with many residents of his diocese had he become bishop.52 Still, Walter was familiar enough with the area’s mores, a term that for Gerald meant the distinctive social practices of a people, though it also could encompass psychological traits.53 Gerald’s description of Walter agrees with the portrait that emerges from the De nugis curialium: familiar with the Welsh, yet born in England; unable to speak Welsh, yet able to catch a few words here and there; a purveyor of Welsh anecdotes; an amateur Welsh historian—all of which fit perfectly with Walter’s own description as a Marcher.
A Welsh Specialist
On one occasion, Walter baldly states that he is “a Marcher to the Welsh” (marchio sum Walensibus).54 We are lucky to have such a clear statement of self-identification, but we are even luckier that its immediate context has been preserved, allowing us a glimpse into how Walter deployed his status as a border dweller at court. The remark follows Walter’s discussion of the exceptional welcome Edward the Confessor received from King Llywelyn, who displayed admirable courtesy and humility
