Sixteen forenames on one boy. Odin's in there, and Plantagenet, and Cromwell, all stacked onto a son christened in 1876 whose father, the Reverend Ralph William Lyonel Tollemache-Tollemache, got bolder with every baptism (he'd doubled his own surname, so the children carried it twice as well).
So what did the family call him? Something of one syllable. The lot of them got clipped down at home to a sound you could shout across a lawn. The vicar wrote all sixteen into the register in his very best hand, and he died in 1895 having heard hardly any of them said aloud.
Pip, the registers of that period weren't ruled for anything like sixteen names — the clerk gets a couple of inches, then starts climbing the margin sideways. I've handled transcripts where the surviving copy just gives the first four and "&c.", which must have pained the vicar.
Pip, spare a thought for the purser. A steamer manifest gives you one ruled line per passenger, and sixteen forenames plus a doubled surname would have run clean into the column for port of embarkation.