Grammatica anglicana

Introduction

Cristiano Ragni

1.  Grammatica Anglicana in its Context: Linguistic Awareness between Classical Influences and “Grammatisation”

By the time Paul Greaves published his Grammatica Anglicana in 1594, England had established its role as a major power on the international stage. After decades of religious and political uncertainties, towards the end of Elizabeth I’s glorious reign, the nation had finally managed to reach a level of – albeit temporary – stability, and at the same time proved its great potentialities in all fields: from politics and warfare to economy and literature. It little surprises, therefore, that it was around this time that the first grammars dedicated to the English language began to be produced. Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana is indeed the second grammar ever written to concentrate on English, after William Bullokar’s Brief Grammar of English (1586)[1]. It is the first, however, at least in its author’s intentions, to focus “especially” on how much the language “differs from Latin” (praecipue quatenus a latina differt)[2]. In an age when the term ‘grammar’ was still firmly associated only with classical languages, in other words, Greaves’ work stands out for what he himself defines as the “novelty of my book” (inscriptionis novitate) and, at the same time, testifies to the recently gained prestige of the vernacular it analyses.        

  This prestige was the result of a thriving cultural climate, which had revealed the great potential of the English language. Even though authoring grammars of vernaculars was and would still be perceived as quite an unusual activity for at least another century, especially due to the underlying anxiety felt towards the prestigious models provided by classical languages, in the early modern age a wide variety of writers started to put grammars of their native language together[3]. There were numerous cultural factors which justified this unprecedented production in England. First, the wave of patriotism sweeping across a nation which, as mentioned above, had started to compete with the other continental powers in every field, and thus needed to prove the dignity of its language as well[4]. By way of example, one of the first supporters of the dignity of English, Richard Mulcaster, mentioned in his Elementarie (1582) not only the “manifold use, for which the speech serveth”, but also “the authority of the people which speak it”[5]. Second, the spread of the Reformation too must be mentioned, with its promotion of the vernaculars, which aimed at breaking, to put it in Ute Dons’ words, with the “tradition that all clerical matters should be exclusively dealt with in Latin”[6]. This factor in particular also favoured a widespread ‘translation movement’, that rapidly expanded from the classics to all other written productions in foreign languages, and was obviously encouraged by the concomitant widening of the readership[7]. Last but not least, there was also what can be defined a ‘pedagogical’ reason: the spreading of the Humanist principle “teach the unknown by the known” made it clear that pupils should first be acquainted with the rules and structures of their own language in order to learn Latin well. The convergence of these elements not only made the production of English grammars unavoidable, but it also resulted in a slow and unstoppable movement of standardization, in which, always according to Dons, English was particularly favoured, “because of its less complicated grammar, its richer lexicon, its linguistic economy resulting from its monosyllabic character, and its euphonious pronunciation”[8].

  Of course, it was not only the English language that experienced this process of standardization during the early modern age. Known as “grammatisation”, this was indeed a wide phenomenon, which involved all the European vernaculars, although at different moments, and indicates, as Clementina Marsico summarized, “the large-scale writing of grammars based on a single linguistic tradition, the Greek-Latin tradition”[9]. The reason why these grammars show such tight connections with the classical ones, despite the apparently opposite effort to get free from their influence, is twofold. On the one hand, the term ‘grammar’ was then almost univocally associated with the classical languages, and especially Latin, which had become the European lingua franca and thus an inescapable point of reference for any author who wished his work to be read abroad[10]. On the other hand, as Marsico also pointed out, “to show the prestige of the vernacular, it was fundamental to show it was governed by clear rules”[11]. This too meant going back to Latin, whose grammar was firmly systematised, and therefore allowed the early grammarians to take Latin as their “blue-print”, both in terms of “framework” and “meta-language”[12]. It is hardly surprising, in other words, that these early grammars were often written in Latin. This allowed the authors to demonstrate the prestige of their vernaculars to a wider readership. After all, “grammatising” the vernacular meant not only to systematise it so as to make it a valuable tool for translations and thus allow access to administrative or sacred texts written only in Latin at the time, or favouring commercial or political relations. It also meant to be able to teach English students the basics of their own language so that they could improve their Latin and, perhaps more importantly, to teach foreigners the vernacular. To do so, then, the early grammarians needed to make deft use of the early modern lingua franca[13]. Of course, such a system, based as it was on a tight comparison with Latin, posed several problems. “[F]orcing the vernacular[s] into the straitjacket of Latin grammar”, so as to put forward evidence of their similarities, Marsico well explained, proved far from an easy task, especially when it came to dealing with “specific innovations of the vernaculars”[14]: from articles to the loss of case endings, just to name a couple. Despite all the difficulties that this approach produced and the accusations of “slavish imitation” that were levelled at the early grammarians, there was no other way to do it[15]. Not only was Latin the only model these authors had, but it did indeed allow them to reach their – and their readers’ – aims: namely, learning the rules that governed the vernacular, and consequently improve their knowledge of Latin. It would take a couple of centuries for grammarians to emancipate themselves from the ‘anxiety of influence’ posed by Latin and realize the necessity to describe the qualities of the vernaculars without comparing them to another linguistic system.  

  Showing that English was not inferior to Latin, that it possessed clear rules which could be taught to foreigners and native speakers alike, and that it was fit for expressing complex thought were the aims of Paul Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana, as will be discussed in detail in the sections below. Having set the objective to provide help for Latin-speaking foreigners to learn English and at the same time to illustrate the rules of the language to the native speakers so as to improve their Latin, Greaves authored a grammar book – “however short and written according to a concise method” (quantumvis brevi et succincta methodo conscriptum) – that did indeed suit these needs, thus proving to be a perfect example of the fruitful fusion between patriotic spur and classical models.                    

2.  The Author

Little is known about Paul Greaves’ life[16]. According to Alumni Cantabrigiensis and the registers of Christ’s College, Cambridge, in June 1588 he matriculated as a sizar – that is, an undergraduate student receiving a sort of scholarship from the university, and often undertaking minor menial tasks in exchange – and put into one Mr. Gray’s care. Greaves then received his B.A. in 1591-92 and, after being awarded a fellowship, he went on to pursue an M.A. He earned it in 1595 and was admitted as a staff member in his own college. Archival evidence mentioned by Nils Erik Enkvist shows that he likely preached at Bourn – a small village in south Cambridgeshire – between 1596-97. What happened to Greaves after this date is shrouded in mystery. On September 12^th, 1598, he is known to have resigned his fellowship, and was officially removed from his college by the Vice-Chancellor John Jegon a couple of months later, on November 23^rd. “I know his behaving to be as such”, noted Edmund Barwell, at the time Master of Christ’s College, “as causeth offense and infamy to the College”[17]. “To reconstruct the incident”, Enkvist acknowledged, “is impossible”, but it is likely that Greaves “had offended against Cambridge rules and mores”[18]. This seems to be confirmed by the fact that Samuel Ward, another Cambridge master who would be later working at the translation of King James Bible, acknowledged in his diary his regret to show his enthusiasm at Greaves’ earlier appointment, and not so subtly hinted at his own happiness at the latter’s punishment. Such dislike, however, does not seem to have been universally shared by all the fellows of Christ’s College. Always according to the university registers, around 1600 Greaves did indeed receive the sum of five pounds to settle his debts. One last piece of evidence mentions one “Mr. Greaves”, possibly Paul, lecturing at St. Andrews University every Monday at 7 a.m. between 1614-16.                 

3.  Grammatica Anglicana (1594)

There exist two extant copies of Paul Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana: one is in the Cambridge University Library and marked Syn. 8.54.60, the other is in the British Library and marked G 7479. Both copies are available in digital form on Early English Books Online (EEBO)[19]. The text is preceded by a Prefatory Epistle, where, as will be discussed at length below, Greaves explains the reasons why he has embarked on such an unprecedented enterprise. Two macro-sections then follow: the first, made up of 8 chapters, addresses a variety of issues related to phonology and morphology; the second one, comprising the remaining 5 chapters, deals with syntax-related issues. As is typical of the grammars of the time, due to the influence of Latin, more attention is paid to morphology than to syntax. A “Short Dictionary” (Dictionariolum) of some English terms used in the grammar and the “Grammatical Analysis” (Analysis Grammatica) of two short poetic texts come last. The copy preserved at the British Library also includes a short list of words from Geoffrey Chaucer’s written output (Vocabula Chauceriana), which has not been included in the present edition.

3.1.  A Ramist attempt

Stating his intent to write an English grammar “arranged according to the unique method of Peter Ramus” (ad unicam P. Rami methodum concinnata), Greaves places himself within the century-old debate on which had to be the fundamental criteria of research and the order of transmission of knowledge. Troubled with growing contradictions and tensions, the European Humanist culture of the early modern age had soon realized to be dealing with a growing body of knowledge – more and more often in contradiction with the ancient precepts and theories – and thus engaged in developing novel ways to make an inventory of the human sciences and particularly clarify them. This fruitful debate on the methodus and ordo of the humanities was spurred not only by the re-discovery of the classical masters of philosophical and scientific thought, but also by the necessities of a changing society, where a growing number of political, administrative, and cultural institutions, as well as the raise of the middle class and the development of mechanical artes and mathematics faced new forms of knowledge[20]. At the centre of this ‘arranging effort’ were the universities, whose most inquisitive members dedicated their best efforts to providing their own solutions to the several doubts raised by the various people involved in the debate[21].

  One of the most influential participants in this debate was the Huguenot humanist Peter Ramus (1515-1572), Regius Professor at the Collège de France. According to Ramus, the purpose of dialectic was teaching both how to debate and how to expose one’s arguments. In this sense, he advocated for the importance of invention and defended new criteria of simplicity, brevity, and efficacy in speech delivery. Ramus’ method, then, consisted in arranging each discipline from the general to the particular: after the general definition of the discipline, one had to consider its various parts, with their own definitions and distinctions, and finally illustrate the most specific notions by virtue of examples[22]. Ramus’ theorical elaborations brought him to consider linguistic structures as well, and he did indeed apply them to his two influential Latin grammars, Rudimenta grammaticae and Grammatica, both published in 1559[23]. Widely known throughout early modern Europe, Ramus’ theories and grammars found particularly fertile ground in Elizabethan England, both because of the “status of Protestant martyr”, as George Arthur Padley put it, that he had gained after his death in the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, and the process of Protestantization that invested both Oxford and Cambridge, and led to a significant reformation of their curricula[24]. Scholars as varied as Gabriel Harvey, George Downham, William Temple, or John Rainolds placed Ramism at the basis of their teaching, and proved unwavering supporters of Ramus’ unica methodus[25]. It little surprises, therefore, that Cambridge-educated Paul Greaves too should adopt it for his Grammatica Anglicana. In this regard, he followed Ramus’ formal distinction between etymologia (that is, orthography and morphology) and syntaxis closely, as well as his grouping of the different parts of speech. In so doing, he paid greater attention, as is typical of all early grammarians, to the Etymology section, being Latin – a highly inflected language – their obvious model. Greaves also proved to share Ramus’ same approach based on the observation of linguistic facts and the subsequent elaboration of descriptive, rather than prescriptive, rules[26].         

  Greaves’ attempt, as Padley underscored, cannot be said to have been entirely successful. His analysis of the differences between English and Latin and Ramus’ unica methodus, the scholar argued, are indeed “mutually exclusive”, because “[…] a system based on purely morphological criteria cannot well be applied to a language such as English, in which grammatical relationships that in Latin are indicated by formal congruence are expressed syntactically”[27]. This is also the reason why, to put it in Marsico’s words, Greaves met with several difficulties in dealing with the different parts of speech[28]. Sketchy and imperfect though it is, as will be shown below, Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana is nonetheless the only grammar-book among those produced in England in the early modern period to try and follow the Ramist model closely[29].

3.2.  The Prefatory Epistle

As is often the case with early modern grammars, the Prefatory Epistle is a privileged space, where authors express not only their rhetorical skills, but also their opinions and motivations[30]. In this regard, to put it in Dons’ words, a growing number of studies has showed how the “study of the grammars’ paratext can [indeed] shed more light on the development of the grammatical tradition”[31]. They also illuminate, as Eleanor Shevlin too has argued, “not just individual works, but reading processes, authorial composition, publishing practices, marketing trends, and generic transformations as well”[32]. In this sense, Greaves’ Prefatory Epistle is no exception. While not providing any information on possible patrons or his other works, Greaves does indeed follow the typical structure of prefatory epistles, and he aligns with what was considered as a “sense of a discourse community of grammar writers”[33].

  First, he underscores the “originality” of his endeavour, which he hopes will stir his readership’s interest (incriptionis novitate ad legendum etiam facilus invitari poteris). If “many distinguished and illustrious writers”, as he adds below, have “dedicat[ed] themselves to the work of rhetoric”, the study of grammar has been fairly neglected (tot egregis et illustris scriptores […] rhetoricae prius quam Grammaticae, operam dedisse existimentur). That is the main cause which has urged him to dedicate his efforts to the rules and functioning of the English language. He then makes the inevitable professio modestiae, underscoring the conciseness of his method and the brevity of his discussion (librum quantumvis brevi et succincta methodo conscriptum), as well as the apparently “trifling” nature of his “subject” (argumenti leviusculam). 

  Again, following the Prefatory Epistle writing tradition, Greaves goes on to celebrate England’s well-known fame and the “divine gifts” (munera […] divina) that Nature had hitherto poured unto the English people “like abundant and friendly rain” (multo et amico imbri). “[U]niquely as regards the embellishment of the language”, he admits, “we seem to have been poorly and meagrely gifted” (unico sermonis ornamento parce nimis, et tenuiter donati videamur). In other words, Greaves argues, it seems as if the otherwise benevolent Mother Nature “had degenerated into a step-mother” (in novercam primo degenerasset) when it came to language. Fortunately, as Greaves states, English does not have to “compete” with Classical Greek or Latin. Aligning himself with the widespread idea of the superiority of classical languages over the vernaculars, he does indeed celebrate the “purity and elegance” (puritate et elegantia) of those languages, and acknowledges that Greeks and Romans are rightly celebrated for “the merit” of their “rhetorical skills” (huius facultatis laude). In so doing then, Greaves apparently shows to be more conservative than some of his contemporaries, such as the aforementioned Mulcaster, just to name one, who, as Marsico noted, had famously contested this “sense of inferiority” felt towards classical languages, and advocated instead that “English was not any with behind the subtle Greek […] or the stately Latin”[34].  

  The comparison with the vernaculars of the other European peoples (Gallis, Italis, Germanis, Hispanis, caeterisque gentibus) is different, whose characteristics are listed by Greaves so as to show that English has nothing to envy. In keeping with the patriotic sentiment that was sweeping England at the time, Greaves states that English can indeed show the same “fluency” (prolationis elegantiam) as French – and he does not miss the chance to define French pronunciation as “theatrical” –, as well as the Italian one as “dignity and modesty of expression” (verbis gravitatem et modestiam), probably due to the similarities “in terms of appearance and customs” (corporum habitu et moribus) between the two peoples; not to mention the “significance and vehemence of expression” (vim verborum et vehementia) that English shares with German. Among the major European languages of the time, only Spanish, despite being initially mentioned, is not discussed by the author. In the post Armada context, however, this is hardly surprising. Not even a word evidently deserved to be spent on the language of England’s arch-enemy, whose pride had been justly smashed in 1588, at least in the eyes of the English. While undoubtedly playing with widespread commonplaces, this long list of linguistic features gives an idea of what had to be Greaves’ opinion on the English language, which here appears to be not that far from Mulcaster’s[35]. On the contrary, Greaves does not hesitate to conclude his reasoning by patently stating that “only our language is perfect among all others”, as “it has kept what is excellent in all areas for itself” (nostram solam ex tot linguis perfectam, et quod in unoquoque genere optimum, illud sibi delibasse).           

  Most interestingly, Greaves goes on to advocate the utter importance of teaching the language correctly, expressing his preoccupation for the dangers faced by “the still unripe intellects of children” (puerorum ingeniola) if presented with incorrect linguistic models. Erroneous comparative forms, lack of agreement between subject and verb, and the improper use of pronouns are just some of the mistakes that, he writes, can be heard everywhere. In this regard, as mentioned above, Greaves underscores how even learned men, proficient in foreign languages, do lack accuracy when it comes to the use of their own native language. Ironically, he argues, they have assimilated the functioning of other languages before having learnt the rules governing their own: “Experience teaches that although the English people in this country – most of whom are gifted with not mediocre erudition – say everything accurately in other languages, they ramble all too shamelessly in the writing of their modern and native language; I will not reveal their names, but blame their vices” (Experientia docet, plerosque haud mediocri eruditione praeditos, natione Anglos, cum in aliis linguis accurate omnia dictitant, modernae huius et nativae scriptione, turpiter omnino hallucinatos esse; taceo nomina, vitia dum reprehendo). In so doing, therefore, not only does Greaves implicitly state the usefulness of his own Grammatica Anglicana, but he also associates with those, such as schoolmaster John Brinsley, who claimed the importance of being acquainted with the grammatical and syntactical rules of English in order to learn Latin accurately – Latin being of course the lingua franca which gave access to upper education and the highest professional offices[36].

  If the primary beneficiaries of Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana thus seem to be the “masters and doctors of the letters” (literarum magistri et doctores), the choice of Latin is also functional to another aim. Greaves explicitly states that he has embarked on this endeavour so that “foreigners” (exteri) too may have the opportunity to learn English, “this most celebrated language” (celeberrimae huius linguae) whose rules have been finally “disclosed and given new life” thanks to his work (Nec illud solum sed praeclusum sibi ad celeberrimae huius linguae perceptionem, tot saeculis aditum, mea unius opera reclusum iam tandem, et reseratum serio triumphabunt). 

3.3.  The Alphabet: Orthographical and phonological aspects  

In line with his Ramist model, Greaves dedicates the first chapter of his Grammatica Anglicana to the alphabet. He considers a, e, i, o, u vowels, while he argues that y is to be “absolutely expunged from their group” (earum numero prorsus expungendum puto). In a following section, however, he seems to consider y as a sort of semi-vowel, as he writes: “[W]hen set in front of a vowel, it must be considered connected with the latter” (praefixum vocali, eique coniunctum), such as in yet or yonder. He also specifies that i and u are sometimes considered consonants, but in those cases they “are written j and v” (scribuntur autem sic, j, v), such as in object and invention[37]. He then distinguishes between “mute” consonants (b, c, d, f, g, k, p, q, and t) and “half-vowels” (l, m, n, r, s, x, and z). In so doing, he is evidently referring to a widespread belief which used to be taught at school at the time. According to E. J. Dobson, early modern English “schoolmasters often described these letters as ‘half-vowels’ for no better reason than that in their names the vowel precedes the consonant”[38]. Differently from the other early grammarians, however, Greaves includes z in this group, but, as is typical of him, provides no explanation for this choice.   

  While presenting the 26 letters of the English vernacular and hinting at their spelling, Greaves also discusses the pronunciation of some of them[39]. The Early Modern period, as is known, saw what can be defined as the most significant change in the history of the pronunciation of the English language: the Great Vowel Shift, which was triggered by the re-organization of the long vowel system of Middle English and led to the well-known differences between spelling and pronunciation that characterize the language to this day[40]. In this regard, Greaves was not a particularly attentive phonetician, to the extent that he is not even mentioned in Dobson’s pivotal work on English pronunciation. As a matter of fact, contrarily to what was usually the case, he does not say anything on the pronunciation of vowels, but the few, rather superficial examples he makes are limited to consonant sounds[41].   

  As regards the letter h, for example, he writes that “it is only the sign of the aspiration of the letter placed at its side” (est tantum index aspirationis literis ad latus appositae), such as in thing or physic, where “[a]spirated P has the value of f” (P aspiratum, valet f). He then adds that h can precede all vowels, but it can be found in a consonant cluster only with c, g, p, t, w, and s – as in chalk, ghost, philosophy, shadow, thief, and what.

  He then spends some words on the different pronunciation of the letters c and t. As regards c, Greaves makes the traditional Latin distinction between /k/ and /s/. It is pronounced /k/, he explains, before a, u, and o, as in call, custom, or college, even when there is another letter between them, as in crab, club, clock; and also when it is the last letter of a syllable, as in accord. Instead, it is pronounced /s/ before e and i, as in censure or city, but not when there is a consonant in between, as in crime or clemency – in those cases, he specifies, c is pronounced /k/. Greaves also hints here at its palatalization, or “aspiration” as he puts it, in words such as child or such. As regards t, instead, Greaves writes that “it sounds like C whenever the following syllable begins with a vowel” (T autem sonat ut C quoties syllaba etiam sequens incipit a vocali), as in condition. In this regard, a greater accuracy on his part would have resulted in a clearer explanation. With this rather generic statement, instead, the doubt remains as to what it means that t sounds like c in condition: is it truly an alveolar sound /s/, or maybe a palatal one /ʃ/ (as in Contemporary English)? This phenomenon, however, does not happen when t “is preceded by x, s, or there is a medial h” (quando praeit x, s aut mediat h), as in mixtion, bustian, or filthiest. Again, Greaves’ discussion is superficial. While returning several times to the influence of the letter h on nearby consonants, for example, he makes no reference to interesting phonological issues of Early Modern English, such as the pronunciation of the initial cluster wh-, which still retained the peculiar /hw-/ sound, or the well-documented distinction between /θ/ and /ð/[42].          

  The twofold pronunciation of the letter g too is explained according to the Latin distinction between /g/ and /ʤ/. Generally, Greaves argues, g is pronounced “with the same sound that Gallus had among the ancient Romans” (eodem proferenda est sono, quo apud latinos in Gallus). It sounds like /ʤ/, instead, with words such as gibbet or giant; “when it is placed right before i in mid-position” (item praepositum immediate i in medio), as in urging; and before e “in every position” (ubique), as in gentle.

  Greaves then acknowledges what Dobson defined a phenomenon taking place “at all periods of the language”[43]: that is, in mid-position before g, n is realised as /ŋ/, as in anger. He does not mention, however, that the same was also true before k. After briefly acknowledging the similarity between f and v, Greaves touches upon the letter s, which, according to him, is incorrectly pronounced /z/ in as, is, and wise. This is strange, because especially between vowels, s is indeed described to be pronounced /z/ also by other early grammarians, such as Thoman Tonkins[44]. All in all, Greaves’ hints at the phonology of Early Modern English confirms what other early grammarians would discuss in greater detail, as well as the descriptive attitude that he – like the others – tended to have.   

  In Chapter 2, Greaves focuses on syllables, which he defines as “the minimal unit[s] of sound” (qua sonus integer comprehenditur). Syllables can be made up of vowels only, or a combination of vowels and consonants. Syllables, he argues, never admit more than two vowels, or one vowel and a diphthong, nor can they have more than two mute consonants or half-vowels. In this regard, he specifies that when syllables begin with two consonants, these are either a half-vowel and a mute consonant, such as bl, br, cl, cr, dr, fl, fr, gl, gn, gr, kn, pl, pr, sc, sp, sw, and tr, or two half-vowels, but in this case only sl, sm, and sn. In general, syllables are made up of seven letters at most.

  Greaves introduces here the concept of diphthongs, and explains that they consist in a combination of the same vowel, such as ee and oo, or of different vowels, such as ai, au, ea, ei, eo, oa, oi, and ou. Curiously, he includes among diphthongs also what we would now call ‘triphthongs’, such as eau in beauty, as well as clusters of vowels and consonants, “where vowels assemble with consonants indiscriminately” (ubi promiscue coniunguntur vocales cum consonis), as in crime.

3.4.  Morphology

Chapters 3-8 of Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana deal with what we would today call ‘inflectional and derivational morphology’. Unsurprisingly, this is the section where the influence of the Latin model is most evident[45]. Like the previous chapters, Greaves’ treatment of the various topics is minimalist and sometimes confusing, as if he were more interested in providing examples rather than theoretical elaborations.  

  Chapter 3 and 4 are dedicated to nouns and adjectives respectively. As regards nouns, Greaves seems to be particularly interested in the formation of plural forms, and especially anomalous ones. He lists nouns with irregular plurals, such as man, men; nouns in which the stem f(e) changes to v, such as knife, knives; and also invariable nouns, such as news or the rather obsolete swine[46]. Following the usual organization of Latin grammars, he then goes on to list, in a quite detailed way, pluralia and singularia tantum. Included in Chapter 3 – and this is a sign of Greaves’ not uncommon inconsistency – is also an example of adjective formation from nouns: namely, the suffix -less, which he defines as “[t]he most fruitful source of all adjectives” (faecundissimus hic omnium adjectivorum ortus). In this regard, Greaves completely overlooks other types of well-established ‘derivational morphemes’, apart from a brief reference, in Chapter 4, to “[a]dverbs in -ly” being “derived from the adjectives” (adverbia in lie, ab adiectivis deducta), and “substantives expressing quality” being “formed from the adjectives, by means of apposition of the syllable -ness” (ex adiectivis fiunt substantiva qualitatis, appositione syllabae Ness), such as good, goodness. The latter, as Tarttu Nevalainen acknowledges, was indeed one of the most productive suffixes between 1500-1700, which thus seems to confirm that, despite his conciseness, Greaves was an attentive observer of his native language[47]. In Chapter 4, he then focuses on adjectives. After general comments on their invariable nature, Greaves touches upon adjective comparison, and explains that this can be expressed in two ways: either with the inflections -er, -est (sweet, sweeter, sweetest), or the periphrastic forms more/most (fair, more fair, most fair). This last example is particularly revealing, as it proves that in Early Modern English the tendency to inflect monosyllabic adjectives in the comparative/superlative grade, while using a periphrastic construction for polysyllables, was not as strong as in Contemporary English. In fact, as Charles Barber put it, in Early Modern English “almost any adjective can be compared by either the inflectional or the periphrastic method, even by the same speaker or writer”[48]. Greaves’ fore-mentioned descriptive approach emerges here too, when he lists irregular comparative forms and pinpoints, for instance, that worse and less are used much more frequently than worser and lesser. He concludes this chapter by listing the different numerals.          

  Greaves provides no accurate description of the use of articles in English. In Chapter 4, he only limits to mentioning that “[t]he article the too is counted among the adjectives” (Adiectivis annumerantur etiam Articulus The) and, as will be shown below, he briefly touches on the use of a/an in Chapter 2 of the Syntax section. In light of the mentioned influence of Latin, however, this is hardly surprising. The lack of attention for this aspect of the English language was indeed typical of most early grammarians, and proves, as Dons argued, how slow they were “to distance themselves from [their classical] model”[49]. It also confirms Ivan Poldauf’s description of early modern grammars as “a thoroughly confused mixture of what is required by the grammar of English and what has come down from the Latin grammatical tradition”[50].

  Chapter 5 is dedicated to pronouns, which Greaves defines “somewhat anomalous” (quoque anomala), because they differ in both number and case. In this regard, he writes for example that demonstrative pronouns (demonstrativa) present one form in the direct case, and another one in the oblique case (i.e., I vs. me). Curiously, he does not include in this section any reference to their possessive forms (mine, thine, his, hers, ours, yours, theirs), which he includes instead among derivative pronouns (derivativa), together with what he later calls, in Chapter 3 of the Syntax section, pronominal adjectives (my, thy, his, her, our, your, their). The influence of Latin grammar is particularly evident here, as Greaves includes personal pronouns (I, thou, he, she) within demonstrativa, together with this and that (although he concludes the chapter by stating that they are actually considered substantive ). “Just as ille and is could be called either relative or demonstrative”, Ian Michael well explained, “so ITH (I, Thou, He) were sometimes put with TT (This, That) among demonstrative pronouns”[51]. Yet another sign of Greaves’ sometimes superficial approach to his subject, however, is the fact that he does not mention we, you, and they among demonstrativa, but then lists them when distinguishing between direct and oblique forms. What is striking is also that he never mentions the neuter it[52]. He then focuses on relative pronouns (who, which, what, whose) but, as regards their usage, Greaves limits to mentioning that which, what and whose do not present case distinction, in that “they are not derivative pronouns by nature, but adjectives, and so they keep their form in all cases” (nec derivativa, quia ut natura sunt prononima adiectiva, sic eorum formam per omnia sequuntur)[53].  

  Chapter 6 constitutes the largest part of the Etymology section and is unsurprisingly devoted to verbs. As in the chapter dedicated to nouns, Greaves provides particularly detailed lists of irregular verbs, so much so that John Algeo concluded that this was reason enough for him to be considered a better grammarian than Bullokar[54]. Even though this chapter confirms Greaves’ distinctive descriptive approach to linguistic data, the unmistakable influence of Latin grammar does often result in somewhat confusing definitions, especially as regards the terms he uses to refer to the various past tenses.

  After some general considerations on the present tense, Greaves explains that “plural forms are identical to the first singular person” (in omni tempore pluralis idem est, cum prima persona singulari), while the second and third singular persons are formed by adding -st and -th respectively to the base-form, and he adds that these also present “contracted” forms in -s. “Originally”, as Barber argued, “the difference between the two endings was one of region: -es was the ending used in the north”, and elsewhere it seemed to be perceived as “a colloquial form”[55]. Towards the close of the century, however, -(e)s had become commonly used everywhere, especially for the third singular person. This is testified by most kinds of written production of the time, and above all by drama, which confirm Greaves’ degree of alertness in describing the English language as it really was[56]. He then notes the existence of today’s emphatic usage of the present auxiliary do (i.e., I do love). Confirming, as is known, that such use did not necessarily give sentence emphasis at the time, and that do could be added – or even omitted – at will, he states that “[t]he present tense is generally expressed like this” (circumloquimur hoc praesens, plerumque per praesens verbi do)[57].

  Greaves mentions here also what we now call ‘modal verbs’ (will, shall, may, can, must), and explains that they “never vary number or person in the singular” (neque numerum aut personam variant), but form the second singular person by adding -(es)t[58].

  Greaves then turns his attention to the past tenses. This section stands out, just like the one devoted to nouns, for the long lists of anomalous forms that he provides. It is also the one where the influence of the model provided by Latin grammars is most evident. In Latin, as is known, there were three past tenses: praeteritum infectum (or imperfectum); praeteritum perfectum; and plus quam perfectum. Greaves evidently adapts this three-partite model to English, and distinguishes between praeteritum primum, secundum, and tertium. His explanations, however, are sometimes confusing, as he uses the Latin terms for the different past tenses rather interchangeably.      

  Greaves’ first past tense (praeteritum primum) corresponds to present-day’s past simple. He explains that it is generally formed by adding –(e)d to the base-form of the verb, except for the second singular person, which adds –(e)st instead. This ‘weak’ form can be variously contracted. First, by dropping e from the last syllable, as in subdu’d; second, “by putting e back at the end”, as in daynde [deigned]; and third, by dropping e and changing d into t, such as whipped which can become whipt. Greaves then mentions three verbs, smite, bite, and write, that have both a ‘weak’ past form (smited, bited, and writed) and an anomalous, ‘strong’, one (smote, boote, and wrote). He adds that their simple forms can be contracted in smit, bit, and writ, and that these contractions are used “far more frequently than the simple form” (longe frequentiori usu habemus quam simplicem), but he also acknowledges that the anomalous forms are used more than the simple ones. He then goes on to list various anomalous past forms, by grouping verbs according to the type of irregularity. He starts with those verbs with one anomalous past form, such as sit, do, and go, which become sat, did, and went. Curiously, he includes here be, even though he acknowledges its two different forms, was and were, and does not include it in the group of the verbs with a “double anomaly” (duplicem anomaliam), which immediately follows. Included in this second group are verbs like get and drink, whose past forms can be gate or got; and drank or dronk. The third group of irregular verbs includes those stems whose past tense “is not different from their base-form” (horum praeteritum non est diversum a themate), such as set, or put. The fourth group includes what we now call ‘modal verbs’, whose past tense (could, would, should, and might) he defines not as praeteritum, but with a Latin term he has never used before, prateritum infectum. Of course, Greaves knew well that his readership would understand that infectum was but a synonym of praeteritum, but this is rather confusing nonetheless, and also inconsistent with his advocated Ramist approach. He then concludes this section by stating that praeteritum primum can also be expressed with the periphrastic from did – for which he uses again the term infectum – used with the present infinitive, except for the verbs be, have, and do. As regards the second and third past forms, Greaves’ discussion is much briefer. He writes that the praeteritum secundum is formed with have and the past participle of the main verb, such as I have hated; while the praeteritum tertium with had – which he defines as the imperfectum of have, even though he has never used this term before – and the past participle of the main verb, such as I had hated[59].

  Turning to the future tenses, Greaves presents a construction corresponding to “the base-form, with the person postponed or implied” (idem est cum themate, postposita persona expressa, aut intellecta), such as hate thou, as the “first” type of future (futuro primo). In so doing, he considers what Barber defined as the “normal polite form”[60] of the imperative – which Greaves does not mention in his Grammatica – as a sort of future. “I suppose Greaves […] makes the imperative the first future”, John O. Reed argued, “because it is so obviously simpler and more primary”[61]. He then defines the construction with will and shall that was commonly considered the first type of future as the “second future tense” (futuro secondo). Even though the use of these two modal verbs was far from clear at the time, expressing as they did ambiguous shades of meaning, Greaves does not say anything in this regard, which seems to confirm that he must have considered them interchangeable[62]. He also does not list more advanced structures, such as what we now call ‘future perfect’, which was attested in Early Modern English[63]. Curiously, Greaves does not even write anything as regards the formation of negative or interrogative forms, nor about the progressive form (be + -ing).      

  Greaves then drily presents the three forms of the infinitive. After listing the present and past forms, to hate and to have hated respectively, however, he does fall – just like Bullokar had done before – into what Giuliana Russo defines as “the Latin trap”[64], and does indeed postulate the existence of to had hated, a sort of past pluperfect infinitive.

  Greaves then turns to the participles. He briefly touches upon the present participle, stating that it is formed by the addition of -ing to the base-form of the verb, such as hate, hating. More attention is paid, as usual, to the anomalous forms, where he tries to establish some parallelisms with the past tenses he has discussed above. However, here too he sometimes uses Latin terms never mentioned before, thus resulting in somewhat inconsistent definitions. For instance, he writes that the perfect participle (participium perfectum) – which he had previously defined past participle (praeteritum perfectum) – usually corresponds to the imperfectum of the verbs, while, as noted above, he had only used the term praeteritum to describe the English past tenses. Again, his readers knew well that in Latin imperfectum was but another name for praeteritum infectum. Still, it is anothert sign of Greaves’ mentioned inconsistency. He then adds that the perfect participles of verbs such as sing or win correspond instead to their second anomalous “imperfect” form: song and won, respectively. Verbs such as smite, bite, and write, instead, form their perfect participle by adding -n to their contracted form, that is, smitten, bitten, and written. He also adds other verbs to this group, such as sit or eat, that form their participle by adding –(e)n to their present form: that is, sitten, and eaten. He concludes this section by listing verbs, such as get and speak, that form the perfect participle by adding –(e)n to their second anomalous imperfect form: that is, gotten and spoken[65]. Greaves includes here also a brief reference to deverbatives, listing both nouns which perfectly correspond to verbs, such as hate, and -er deverbatives, such as lover. With the fore-mentioned -ness, as Nevalainen underscored, -er was the most productive suffix in the early modern age, thus confirming Greaves’ attentiveness to the mechanisms regulating his vernacular[66]. It is worth mentioning here that Greaves does not acknowledge infinitives and participles as ‘moods’. Greaves’ negligence as regards the concept of mood was not an exception per se, as this was presented as a baffling part of grammar even in Latin textbooks. It is rather ascribable to his attempt to adhere to Ramus’ model. It was indeed Ramus, as Reed discussed in detail, “who solved the problem of finding a way to deal with the confusion over moods in Latin by abandoning the concept of mood altogether”[67]. Small wonder then that Greaves’ Grammatica, arranged as it was according to Ramus’ method, should overlook this aspect.                    

  He then focuses on passive constructions, which “consist of the perfect participle and the verb am for all tenses and persons” (constat ex perfecto participio et verbo am idque per omnia tempora et personas). Here too, he limits to listing the tenses mentioned above in their corresponding passive forms, without including any significant consideration[68].

  Greaves concludes this chapter by quickly referring to “impersonal verbs” (impersonalia), and states that they can be formed “by placing it in front of the third singular persons” (a tertiis personis singularibus personalium praeponendo it), such as it be seemeth [sic] and it is said.

  Chapters 7 and 8, which conclude the Etymology section, are dedicated to adverbs and conjunctions, but they mainly consist in lists of words, and not theoretical discussions on these parts of speech. Greaves lists prepositions among adverbs, and limits to mentioning the most common ones, with no reference to any compound preposition (i.e., ahead of, in advance of), whose usage was instead considerably developing at the time[69]. The category of adverbs also includes interjections, whose wealth is testified by the dramatic production of the Elizabethan Age. Drily as usual, however, Greaves only lists alas, alack, oh, and woe. This too is hardly surprising. “Generally, the works of the grammarians in the tradition of [William] Lily [‘s Grammar of Latin] are more detailed than those of the Rameian [sic] authors”, Dons explained, “as Ramus’ principle of the primacy of form cannot be meaningfully applied to the interjection […] The fact that this aspect is lacking in the grammars by the Ramus followers proves that the capacity to think independently was not particularly developed”[70].

3.5.   Syntax

The second section of Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana is dedicated to syntax, “the part of grammar which considers the order of the parts of speech in a sentence” (pars grammaticae quae vocum in oratione structuram considerat). As is usually the case with early grammarians, the attention paid to syntactical issues is far less than that paid to the morphological ones. “The neglect of syntactic aspects”, Dons maintained, “is due to the fact that syntax, in contrast to orthography, prosody, and morphology, traditionally was not considered to be part of the subject ‘grammar’ and thus only received little attention. Moreover, the authors seem to be aware of the fact that it is impossible to adopt Latin syntax models”[71]. At the same time, however, as Dons continued, “the statements found in the Early Modern English grammars proved to be more reliable with respect to syntax than with respect to the parts of speech”[72]. In this regard, Greaves’ treatment is generally meagre and not always as systematic as Ramus would have had it, but this section of Grammatica Anglicana stands out for the number of quotations from contemporary works, ranging from The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia, George Gascoigne’s The Complaint of Philomene, or verse riddles.

  After a brief Chapter 1 dedicated to the apostrophe, in Chapters 2 Greaves turns his attention to the syntax of nouns and adjectives. Discussing the various syntactical differences, as Algeo argued, would indeed have been “important to highlight the differences between English and Latin”[73]: that is, in other words, to keep faith to the title of the grammar. As is usually the case with Greaves, however, he only limits to explaining that adjectives are usually placed before nouns (i.e., A yoked swine is a terrible beast), except for poetry or statements on the quality of the subject (i.e., This knife is sharp). By drawing examples from the fore-mentioned literary works, he then discusses where adverbs and modifiers, such as, all or many, are usually placed in a sentence, thus confirming once more his descriptive approach to the linguistic data. It is here that Greaves touches again on the articles, which he considers to be adjectives. In particular, he mentions a when explaining the difference in use with one. In this regard, he writes that the latter “denotes a somewhat certain unity” (unitatem certius), is “more emphatic” (magisque emphatice), and “is more often used as a substantive” (substantive saepius ponitur). He then adds that an is used instead of a before vowels. Lastly, he writes that the, a and an are commonly used with all to indicate the whole.

  In Chapter 3, dedicated to the syntax of pronouns, Greaves does not actually add much information to what he has already written in Chapter 5 of the Etymology section. He limits to clarifying that pronominal adjectives (i.e., my, thy, her, our, your, their) are always coupled with a noun, while mine, thine, hers, ours, yours, theirs, and the interrogative who can be considered substantives  in their own right. He also writes that pronominal adjectives can also be “compounded with the nominal affix -self” (componuntur nonnunquam cum affixo nomine, -self) so as to add emphasis (i.e., myself, thyself etc.).   

  Chapter 4 promises to deal with the syntax of adverbs, even though Greaves does only focus on three prepositions (of, to, and from). He underscores how they somehow express case distinction and seem to be akin to the Latin prepositions ad, de, and ut.  “Of takes the genitive”, he explains, “to the dative, and for more emphasis we use unto; from or fro the ablative, such as Regis regum, of a king, of kings. Regi regibus, to a king, to kings. Rege regibus, from a king, or from kings”[74].

  The last chapter of Grammatica Anglicana is dedicated to the syntax of conjunctions with verbs. Here Greaves mainly focuses on constructions introduced by that – “either expressed or implied” (expressam, aut intellectam) – and followed by the unusual form be (i.e., Suppose [that] all men be honest). Interestingly, as Reed observed, Greaves notices here an uncommon use of the verb, but does not identify it as “the subjunctive form be in the present tense”[75]. In fact, he explains that in sentences like Suppose all men be honest it is either that or to which are missing. In the former case, he argues that be is present tense, in the latter, be is infinitive. These sentences can be thus expanded as follows: Suppose that all men be honest or Suppose all men to be honest. Consequently, Greaves concludes that sentences like I be negligent or thou be honest are but “clumsy and vulgar solecism[s]” (inerti, at vulgari solaecismo). However, as Reed put it, these expressions were indeed “common in the literary prose of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries”, thus proving that “the writers employed the subjunctive forms of which they were unaware with great constancy”[76].            

  After the predictable plea for mercy in case his considerations may result offensive, Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana draws to a close with a Horatian quotation that is equally predictable: “Live and thrive, if you have learnt anything better than these precepts, / frankly impart them to me; otherwise, use these with me” (1.6.67-68)[77].    

[1] William Bullokar’s Brief Grammar of English (or Pamphlet for Grammar) is the first grammar dedicated to the English language and to use English as meta-language. The author presented his work as an abridged version of a longer book, which, if he ever wrote it, has not survived. Following William Lily’s influential Grammar of Latin closely, Bullokar’s Brief Grammar is particularly famous for his peculiar use of a “reformed spelling system” of his own invention. See John Algeo, “The Earliest English Grammars”, in Historical and Editorial Studies in Medieval and Early Modern English for Johan Gerritsen, eds. Mary-Jo Arn, Hanneke Wirtjes, and Hans Jansen, Groningen, Wolters – Noordhoff, 1985, pp. 191-207 (pp. 192-194).    

[2] All references to Paul Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana are from the copy owned by the Cambridge University Library and available on Early English Books Online (EEBO): Title page, not numbered. The English translations are mine.

[3] See, among others, W. Ketih Percival, “The grammatical tradition and the rise of the vernaculars”, in Cultural Trends in Linguistics, 13 (1975), pp. 263-284; Vivienne Law, The History of Linguistics in Europe: From Plato to 1600, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2003, pp. 210-257; Peter Burke, Languages and Communities in Early Modern Europe, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2004, pp. 65-71; and Erik Butler, The Bellum grammaticale and the rise of European literature, Farnham, Ashgate, 2010.

[4] See Giuliana Russo, “Introduction”, in her The De Analogia Anglicani Sermonis Liber Grammaticus (1612) by Thomas Tonkins. A Transcription of the Original Manuscript with an Introduction, notes and comments, Canterano, Aracne Editrice, 2020, pp. 28-29.

[5] The first part of the elementary which entreateth chefelie of the right writing of our English tung, set furth by Richard Mulcaster, edited by Thomas Vautroullier dwelling in the Blackfriars by Ludgate, 1582, p. 80.

[6] Ute Dons, Descriptive Adequacy of Early Modern English Grammars, Berlin – New York, Mouton de Gruyter, 2004, p. 5. See also Emma Vorlat, The Development of English Grammatical Theory 1586-1737. With Special Reference to the Theory of Parts of Speech, Leuven, Leuven University Press, 1975, pp. 3-6.

[7] See Charles Barber, Early Modern English, London, André Deutsch, 1976, p. 47; Russo, “Introduction”, p. 28; and Clementina Marsico, “A ciascuno il suo: Discussioni e rivalità nelle grammatiche latine dell’inglese”, in Una lingua morta per letterature vive: il dibattito sul latino come lingua letteraria in età moderna e contemporanea. Atti del convegno internazionale, Roma, 10-12 dicembre 2015, Supplementa Humanistica Lovaniensia XLV, a cura di Valerio Sanzotta, Leuven, Leuven University Press, 2020, pp. 65-89 (p. 69).   

[8] Started in the mid-16^th century, this movement of standardization would culminate in the eighteenth century with Dr Johnson’s Dictionary of the English Language (1755). Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 6: “English was introduced for the first time as a separate school subject in the second half of the seventeenth century and was thus no longer degraded to a mere vehicle for learning Latin”. See also David Crystal, The Stories of English, London, Penguin, pp. 365-414 and Simon Horobin. The English Language: A Very Short Introduction, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2016, pp 33-83.

[9] Clementina Marsico, “Continuity and change in the Neo-Latin grammars of the European vernaculars (French, Castilian, German, and English”, in Cultural Encounter and Identity in the Neo-Latin World, eds. Camilla Horster and Marianne Pade, Roma, Edizioni Quasar, 2020, pp. 123-138 (p. 124).

[10] See Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 6 and Marsico, “A ciascuno il suo”, pp. 65-66.    

[11] Marsico, “Continuity and change”, p. 124.

[12] Marsico, “Continuity and change”, p. 135.

[13] Marsico, “Continuity and change”, p. 124.

[14] Marsico, “Continuity and change”, p. 135.

[15] Algeo, “The Earliest English Grammars”, p. 191.

[16] The scattered pieces of information available on Greaves and here presented are from John Peile, Biographical Register of Christ's College, 1505 – 1905, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1910, I, pp. 192-193; E. J. Dobson, English Pronunciation 1500 – 1700, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1957, I, p. 33; and Nils Erik Enkvist, “Paul Greaves, Author of Grammatica Anglicana”, in Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 59:4 (1958), pp. 177-179; and Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 8.

[17] Enkvist, “Paul Greaves, Author of Grammatica Anglicana”, p. 278.

[18] Enkvist, “Paul Greaves, Author of Grammatica Anglicana”, p. 279.

[19] The present edition is based on the copy owned by the Cambridge University Library. The copy owned by the British Library has been consulted when necessary to clarify obscure passages.

[20] See, among others, Neal Ward Gilbert, Renaissance concepts of method, New York, Columbia University Press, 1960; Angelo Crescini, Le origini del metodo analitico. Il Cinquecento, Udine, Del Bianco, 1965; Anthony Grafton and Lisa Jardine, From humanism to the humanities. Education and the liberal arts in fifteenth and sixteenth-century Europe, London, Duckworth, 1986; and John C. Briggs, Francis Bacon and the rhetoric of nature, Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press, 1989.

[21] See Cesare Vasoli, La dialettica e la retorica dell'Umanesimo. Invenzione e metodo nella cultura del XV e XVI secolo, Milano, Feltrinelli, 1968.

[22] See, among others, Craig Walton, “Ramus and Bacon on method”, in Journal of the history of philosophy, 9, 1971, pp. 289-302; Nelly Bruyère, Méthode et dialectique dans l'oeuvre de La Ramée. Renaissance et âge classique, Paris, Vrin, 1984; and Guido Oldrini, La disputa del metodo nel Rinascimento. Indagini su Ramo e sul ramismo, Firenze, Le Lettere, 1997.

[23] See Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, pp. 8-9.

[24] George Arthur Padley, Grammatical Theory in Western Europe, 1500-1700: Trends in Vernacular Grammar, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1985, pp. 53-83 and 146-215 (p. 53).

[25] Padley, Grammatical Theory in Western Europe, p. 53.

[26] Ian Michael, English Grammatical Categories and the Tradition to 1800, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1970, p. 187. See also Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, pp. 246-247.

[27] Padley, Grammatical Theory in Western Europe, p. 58. 

[28] Marsico, “A ciascuno il suo”, pp. 65-89.

[29] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 241.

[30] See Luigi Munzi, “Il ruolo della prefazione nei testi grammaticali latini”, in AION – Sez. di Filologia e Letteratura Classica, XIV, 1992, pp. 103-126.

[31] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, pp. 176-177.

[32] Eleanor Shevlin, “To reconcile book and title, and make ’em kin to one another”: The evolution of the title’s contractual functions”, in Book History 2 (1), 1999, pp. 42–77 (pp. 43-44).

[33] Richard J. Watts, “Justifying grammars: A socio-pragmatic foray into the discourse community of Early English grammars”, in Andreas H. Jucker (ed.), Historical Pragmatics. Pragmatic Developments in the History of English, Amsterdam – Philadelphia, Benjamins, 1995, pp. 145-185 (p. 147).

[34] The first part of the elementary, p. 80.

[35] See, among others, Claire MacEachern, The Poetics of English Nationhood, 1590-1610, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1996, pp. 26-27.

[36] See Marsico, “A ciascuno il suo”, p. 78.

[37] Dobson, English Pronunciation, 1500-1700, 2, pp. 699-713.

[38] Dobson, English Pronunciation, 1500-1700, 1, p. 102. Dobson shows how other early grammarians, such as William Bullokar or Thomas Hayward, tried to elaborate some justifications for this distinction. Bullokar, for example, argued that s was included in this group because “it was indeed descended from the scribal abbreviation for es”, while the other letters were what we would now call ‘syllabic consonants’: “Bullokar […] held that there was a vowel sounded ‘in them’, but that it was uncertain; he identifies it with u, which must ordinarily mean that it is [ə]” (p. 102). As for Hayward, instead, he considers them ‘half-vowels’ not only because “their name begins with a vowel”, but also because “they can be followed by a final e, which he seems to regard as constituting half their sound” (p. 323).      

[39] This is something that sets Greaves apart from the other early grammarians, who tended to consider i/j and u/v as the same letter, and therefore presented the English alphabet as being made up of 24 letters.

[40] See Dobson, English Pronunciation, 1500-1700; Barber, Early Modern English, pp. 288-338; and Terttu Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 2006, pp.118-133.                          

[41] Russo, “Introduction”, p. 51.

[42] See Dobson, English Pronunciation, 1500-1700, 2, pp. 936-941; Barber, Early Modern English, pp. 314-317; and Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, p. 118.

[43] Dobson, English Pronunciation, 1500-1700, 1, p. 952. See also Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 128-129.

[44] Russo, “Introduction”, p. 54.

[45] For a general overview on the impact of Latin on Early Modern English, see Letizia Vezzosi, “English in Contact: Latin”, in Alexander Bergs and Laurel Brinton (eds.), English Historical Linguistics. An International Handbook, Handbücher zur Sprach- und Kommunikationswissenschaft / Handbooks of Linguistics and Communication Science 34.2, Berlin – Boston, De Gruyter Mouton, 2012, pp. 1703-1719.  

[46] The list of these anomalous plural forms can also be found in other early grammarians, as a result of both the influence of Latin grammars and plagiarism. In this regard, see Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 39.

[47] See Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, p. 63.

[48] Barber, Early Modern English, p. 201. See also Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 98-99.

[49] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 84.

[50] Ivan Poldauf, On the History of some Problems of English Grammar before 1800, Prague, FFUK, 1948, p. 161.

[51] See Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 77-79; 85-86. See also Michael, English Grammatical Categories, p. 328.

[52] This lack of reference to it and its oblique forms can be found also in Tonkins. See Russo, “Introduction”, p. 63.

[53] For a thorough overview on the use of relative pronouns in this period, see Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 84-86.

[54] Algeo, “The Earliest English Grammarians”, p. 194. 

[55] Barber, Early Modern English, pp. 238-239.

[56] See Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 90-91.

[57] See Barber, Early Modern English, pp. 263-267 and Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 108-109.

[58] See Barber, Early Modern English,  pp. 253-260.

[59] See Barber, Early Modern English,  pp. 249-252, and Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 92-96.

[60] Barber, Early Modern English,  p. 248.

[61] John O. Reed, “Englishmen and Their Moods: Renaissance Grammar and the English Verb”, in An Historic Tongue. Studies in English Linguistics in Memory of Barbara Strang, eds. Graham Nixon and John Honey, London – New York, Routledge, 1988, pp. 112-130 (p. 121).

[62] On the use of will and shall in this period, see among others Josef Taglicht, “The Genesis of the Conventional Rules for the Use of Shall and Will”, in English Studies 51 (1970), pp. 193-213; Maurizio Gotti, “Pragmatic Uses of Shall and Will for Future Time Reference in Early Modern English”, in David Hart (ed.), English Modality in Context: Diachronic Perspectives, Bern, Peter Lang, 2003, pp. 109-170; and Iolanda Plescia, “Expressions of Futurity in early modern dramatic dialogue: a case study”, in Gabriella Mazzon – Luisanna Fodde (eds.), Historical Perspectives on forms of English dialogue, Milano, Franco Angeli, 2012, pp. 99-115. See also Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 95-96.

[63] See Barber, Early Modern English, p. 258.

[64] Russo, The De Analogia, p. 108 n. 56.

[65] See Barber, Early Modern English, pp. 252-253, and Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 89-96.

[66] See Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, p. 63.

[67] Reed, “Englishmen and Their Moods”, p. 121. See also Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 96-97.

[68] See Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, pp. 110-111.

[69] See Barber, Early Modern English, p. 273. See also Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 140: “In conclusion, it can be said that the field of the preposition is a rather neglected chapter in grammar writing. The Early Modern English descriptions mainly differ from each other with respect to the status of the preposition in the word class system. The authors usually restrict themselves to an enumeration of the most important elements of this word class. In the Latin tradition, they often formulate rules of government. The meanings of the prepositions are only mentioned in few grammars”.

[70] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 142. William Lily’s Grammar of Latin (c. 1540) was the first and only authorized text for the teaching of Latin in grammar schools in the early modern age. See also Nevalainen, An Introduction to Early Modern English, p. 19.

[71] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, pp. 236 and 240.

[72] Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 249.

[73] Algeo, “The Earliest English Grammars”, p. 195.

[74] See Dons, Descriptive Adequacy, p. 140.

[75] Reed, “Englishmen and Their Moods”, p. 125.

[76] Reed, “Englishmen and Their Moods”, p. 126.

[77] Horace, Epistles, in Horace, Satires, Epistles, The Art of Poetry, trans. H.R. Fairclough, Loeb Classical Library 194, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press, 1926, p. 286.  

There exist two extant copies of Paul Greaves’ Grammatica Anglicana: one is in Cambridge University Library and marked Syn. 8.54.60, the other is in the British Library and marked G 7479. The present edition is based on the copy owned by the Cambridge University Library. The copy owned by the British Library has been consulted when necessary to clarify obscure passages.

There seem to be no significant differences between the two copies. Both copies present the complete title, the name of the publisher (John Legatt), the place and year of print (Cambridge, 1594), and where they were sold (“in London at the sign of the Sun in St. Paul’s Churchyard”), but while in the copy preserved in Cambridge University Library Greaves is indicated by the initials “Authore P. G.”, the one in the British Library shows his full name “Authore Paulo Greaves”.

In both copies, the frontispiece is followed by a short poem of eight lines dedicated “to the book itself” and by a quotation from Ovid’s Tristia (1.7). Both copies comprise 36 numbered pages signed A2r-C6v, containing:

• Frontispiece
• “To the Book itself” poem
• “Greetings to the Reader” (A2r)
• 1 – On the Alphabet (A5r)
• 2 – On Syllables (A6v)
• 3 – On Substantive Nouns (A7v)
• 4 – On Adjectives (B1r)
• 5 – On Pronouns (B3r)
• 6 – On Verbs (B4r)
• 7 – On Adverbs (C1v)
• 8 – On Conjunctions (C2r)
• 1 – On Syntax (C3r)
• 2 – On the Syntax of Nouns (C3v)
• 3 – On the Syntax of Pronouns (C5r)
• 4 – On the Syntax of Adverbs, with Nouns (C5v)
• 5 – On the Syntax of Conjunctions, with Verbs (C6r)

These are followed by 24 unnumbered pages signed C7r-31v with a “Small dictionary of the English terms, which occur here and there in this little book”. There are then 6 unnumbered pages signed E2r-E4v, with the grammatical analysis of a short verse riddle. In the British Library copy, Greaves’ Grammatica is followed by a vocabulary of terms taken from Chaucer (“Vocabula Chaucerina”).

The text is written in Roman letters with some italics (used mainly for titles and English examples) and floriated initials. The “Greetings to the Reader” page (A2r) and the initial page of the “Syntax” section (C3r) are decorated by a typographical ornament on the top.

No lacunae are present.

F3r

F4v

H1r

H2r