Fitz—pronounced simply “fits,” yet anything but simple in spirit—emerges from the medieval mists where Norman French met the classical cadence of Latin filius, “son,” and, like a river fed by many tributaries, it has carried that lineage through Gaelic highlands, Georgian ballrooms, and New-World avenues. Once the proud herald that rode before great surnames—Fitzgerald, Fitzroy, Fitzwilliam—this lean, one-syllable banner now stands alone, bright as a newly minted coin, inviting a child to inherit history without being weighed down by it. In its syllable glints the romance of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Jazz-Age nights, the quiet loyalty of Robin Hobb’s royal assassin FitzChivalry, and even the presidential resolve of television’s Fitzgerald Grant, yet the name retains room enough for any future story a newborn may write. Rare—though rising—in American nurseries, Fitz feels at once intimate and adventurous: a crisp morning breeze whispering of ancestral roots beneath Roman sun and emerald Irish rain, promising that a son so named will know both where he comes from and how far he might roam.
Fitz Hall - |
Fitz Hugh Ludlow - |
Fitz Henry Lane - |
Fitz de Souza - |
Fitz Lee - |