Every rich man had his bearward, and the royal houses had their “master of the king’s bears.” Both Mary and Elizabeth enjoyed a good baiting, whether of bulls or bears. The Puritans of course were against it, and so far were in advance of the times, but it is a peculiar feature of their opposition that they scarcely ever refer to the cruelty of the sport. Orthodox and somewhat dull Pepys describes in 1666 how he saw some good sports of the bulls tossing the dogs—one into the very boxes. A leading Puritan minister not twenty years later is always found, by his own published diary, to have sent his children to the cock-pit on Shrove-Tuesday to witness the “throwing-at-the-cock,” and he piously prays they may be preserved from harm while away (“Newcome’s Diary,” Cheetham Society’s Publications). Thus it is we find so many “Cockers” and “Cockmans” in the Directory. As for our “Cocks” or “Coxes,” every young gallant who showed determined pluck, or strutted in his gait, or gave himself airs, was nicknamed from the cockpit or barn-door dictionary. No wonder our Directory teems with them, for it would be looked upon in bygone days as a pretty compliment. This is the origin of “cock” in such mediæval pet names as Wilcock, Jeffcock, Batcock and Badcock (Bartholomew), Simcock, Hancock and Handcock (Hans, _i.e._ Johannes), Bawcock (Baldwin), Pidcock and Peacock (Peter), Philcock, now Philcox, and Adcock or Atcock (Adam). To give my readers a list of the views propounded as to the meaning of this desinence would take too much space. Suffice it to say that nothing has seemed too absurd for those who love “guesses at truth,” without ever guessing right, to advance. Every rustic lusty lad was “Cock,” especially if he had a perky cocky way of his own. And in these names of Philcock or Jeffcock, we simply see the old-fashioned way of hailing Philip or Jeffery as, “Well, Jeff-cock, lad, how art thou?” “Pretty well, Phil-cock, thank’ee.” In the old play, _Gammer Gurton’s Needle_, Gammer’s servant lad is called simply “Cock,” without the baptismal name being appended at all. It is so in the mediæval poem entitled “Cocke Lorell’s Bote.”