mayday

4 May 2021

Mayday is a radio distress call, a phonetic representation of the French m’aidez (help me). The phrase differs from S.O.S. in that S.O.S. is used in Morse code transmissions while mayday is used in voice transmissions.

The distress call was first adopted for use in cross-Channel flights from Britain to France in early 1923. Mention of it appears in a number of British newspapers, including the Times, on 2 February 1923:

New arrangements for the salving [sic] of aeroplanes that may be forced to alight in the Channel will be in operation during the forthcoming night flights between London and Paris. Owing to the difficulty of distinguishing the letter “S” by telephone, the international distress signal “S.O.S.” will give place to the words “May-day,” the phonetic equivalent of “M’aidez.” the French for “Help me.” During a recent test a R.A.F. flyingboat, descending in the Channel, gave the international distress signal three times by wireless telephony and reported that her engines had failed. The message was picked up at Croydon and Lympne. The Civil Aviation Traffic Officer at Lympne telephoned to the Dock Master at Dover, and within twenty minutes of the distress call a tug from Dover was alongside to give assistance, having steamed about three miles. No special warning had been given to Dover to be ready.

The distress call was adopted as the international standard by the 1927 International Radio Telegraph Convention held in Washington, D.C.

It’s often claimed that mayday was coined by Frederick Stanley Mockford, a radio operator at Croydon Airport in England. While plausible, this claim is undocumented.

Discuss this post


Sources:

“New Air Distress Signal.” Times (London), 2 February 1923, 7. Gale Primary Sources: The Times Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, December 2020, s.v. Mayday, int. and n.2.

“Radio-Telephony on the London–Continental Air Routes.” Aeronautical Digest, 3.5, November 1923. 343. Gale Primary Sources: Smithsonian Collections Online.

man / woman / wife

Detail of the Lindisfarne Gospels, Luke 2:23, showing the Old English interlinear gloss of the Latin text; being a Northumbrian text, it uses the mon form

Detail of the Lindisfarne Gospels, Luke 2:23, showing the Old English interlinear gloss of the Latin text; being a Northumbrian text, it uses the mon form

3 May 2021

There were three basic Old English words for male and female humans, man, wer, and wif. And from these came two compounds also meaning man and woman, wæpman and wifman. Other Old English words for man and woman existed, many of them found chiefly in poetry, but etymologically it makes sense to group together the discussion of these five words. First, let’s take on man.

In Old English, one finds the forms man and mon. Of the two, mon would appear to be the older form and more common in the Mercian and Northumbrian dialects, with man arising in the West Saxon dialect. But since the majority of surviving texts are West Saxon, the man form is more common in the corpus. And since West Saxon was the dialect spoken in the region encompassing London and recorded in later court documents as the kings of Wessex came to rule all of England, man would become the standard form in Middle English and later. Although one can still see mon in Middle English texts from the Midlands.

In Old English, the word man could refer to both any person regardless sex or gender or to a male human. And, while the generic use of man is rightly discouraged in Present-Day English for being sexist, it can still be commonly seen, as in the word mankind. We can see this move toward non-sexist language in the phrase from the original 1966 Star Trek series, where no man has gone before, which was changed in the 1987 Star Trek: The Next Generation series to where no one has gone before.

(Indo-European languages consider sex and gender to be binary: male and female. While they may have terms that are sex- and gender-neutral that can refer to both male and female humans, they do not typically have terms for sexes and genders other than the binary male and female. Note: I’m not talking about grammatical gender here; that is a very different thing. Many Indo-European languages also have a neuter grammatical gender.)

As examples of these two uses of man, here are two passages from the same writer, Ælfric of Eynsham, a monk and homilist writing c.1000 C.E., and who was, perhaps, the chief prose stylist of the Old English period. The first, which uses man to refer to a generic human, is from Ælfric’s homily for the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter. In this passage, Peter is defending his association with and conversion of gentiles.

Gif god him forgeaf þæs halgan gastes gife, swa swa us on frymþe on fyrenum gereordum, hwæt eom ic manna þæt ic mihte god forbeodan?

(If God gave them the gift of the Holy Ghost, just as to us at the beginning in fiery tongues, what manner of man am I that I might forbid God?)

That manuscript, London, British Library, Cotton MS Julius E.vii is from the early eleventh century. One later manuscript, the twelfth-century Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Bodley 343 uses the spelling monna. This manuscript is from the West Midlands or possibly the Hereford region and is an example of a later survival of that form in a Midlands dialect.

But in another homily about the cross-dressing Saint Eugenia, Ælfric uses man to refer specifically to a male human. Eugenia successfully took on the guise of a man in order to become a monk and eventually an abbot before being martyred. In this passage from early in her life, the bishop Helenus sees through her disguise, but he baptizes her and tells her to continue on her path. Again, this is from the early eleventh-century manuscript:

He genam hi þa onsundron and sæde hyre gewislice hwæt heo man ne wæs and hwylcere mægþe and þæt heo þurh mægð[-] had mycclum gelicode þam heofonlican cynige þe heo gecoren hæfde and cwæð þæt heo sceolde swiðlice æhtnyssa for mægðhade ðrowian and þeah beon gescyld þurh þone soðan drihten þe gescylt his gecorenan.

(Then he took her aside and said to her with certainty how she was no man and of which people [she was] and she through the virginity that she had chosen had greatly pleased the heavenly king and said that she would greatly suffer persecutions for her virginity and yet be shielded through the true Lord who shields his chosen ones.)

These two senses of man come down to us today pretty much unchanged.

The words wer and wif, specifically denoting male and female humans, can be seen in the poem Beowulf. Here the hall Heorot is being prepared for the celebrations following Beowulf’s killing of Grendel:

Ða wæs haten hreþe     Heort innanweard
folmum gefrætwod;     fela þæra wæs,
wera ond wifa     þe þæt winreced,
gestsele gyredon.

(Then, by command, the interior of Heorot was quickly decorated by hand; there were many men and women who prepared the guest-hall.)

Wer survives today only in fossilized form, such as in the word werewolf (literally, man-wolf). But in addition to denoting a female human, wif could also denote the spouse of a man, a wife. That sense is the chief sense of the word in Present-Day English.

And there are two compounds based on man, wæpman and wifman. The first has disappeared from the language, but wifman survives today as woman.

Wæpman literally meant man with a weapon. It might refer to a warrior, but weapon here is more likely a reference to a penis. Just as weapon can be used in present-day slang to mean penis, so it could a thousand years ago. We have this from a mid tenth-century Latin-English glossary:

Genitalia, þa cennendlican.
Uirilia, þa werlican.
Ueretrum, teors.
Calamus, teors, þæt wæpen, uel lim.
Testiculi, beallucas.

(Genitalia, the genitals.
Uirilia, the masculine.
Ueretrum, tarse [i.e., penis].
Calamus, tarse, that weapon or limb.
Testiculi, bollocks.)

And we also see wæpman being specifically to refer to a man in relation to penetrative sex. A tenth-century Old English interlinear gloss to the Lindisfarne Gospels has this for Luke 2.23:

sicut scribtum est in lege Domini, Quia omne masculinum adaperiens vulvam sanctem Domino vocabitur

sua auritten is in æ Drihtnes þæte eghuelc he oððe weepenmon to untynes hrif oððe wom oððe inna halig Drihten bið geceiged

(As it is written in the law of the Lord, that every he or wæpman who opens a vulva or womb or uterus will be called holy by the Lord.)

And we see wæpman and wifman side by side in a late tenth-century translation of the Deuteronomy 22.5, in a passage that neither the aforementioned Eugenia nor Helenus appears to have read:

Ne scryde nan wif hig mid wæpmannes reafe, ne wæpman mid wifmannes reafe.

(No woman should clothe herself with a wæpman’s garments, nor a wæpman with a woman’s garments.)

Wifman started losing the < f > toward the end of the Old English period. From another biblical translation, this one of Judges 4:22 found in a late eleventh-century manuscript. Here Jahel, the woman in question, has just killed Sisara by hammering a nail through his temple:

Barac com sona, sohte þone Sisara; wolde hine ofslean. Ða clipode seo wimman cuðlice him to; het hine sceawian þone þe he sohte; & he geseah þa hwar Sisara læg, & se teldsticca sticode þurh his heafod.

(Barac came at once, seeking after Sisara; he wished to kill him. Then the woman called clearly to him that she would show him whom he sought; and he saw where Sisara lay, and the tent-peg stuck through his head.)

The vowel shift and spelling to woman happened in Middle English.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Ælfric. “Kalendas Martias. Cathedra Sancti Petri” (“22 February. The Chair of Saint Peter”) and “Eodem die natale Sancte Eugenie Uirginis” (“25 December. Saint Eugenia, Virgin”). Ælfric’s Lives of Saints, vol. 1 of 3. Walter Skeat, ed. Early English Text Society O.S. 76. London: Oxford UP, 1881, 232, 28–30. HathiTrust Digital Archive. London, British Library, MS Cotton Julius E.vii.

Deuteronomy 22.5 and Judges 4:22. S. J. Crawford. The Old English Version of the Heptateuch. Early English Text Society O.S. 160. London: Oxford UP, 1922, 355 and 405. London, British Library, Cotton MS Claudius B.iv and Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Laud Misc. 509.

Fulk, R. D., Robert E. Bjork, and John D. Niles. Klaeber’s Beowulf, fourth edition. Toronto: U of Toronto P, 2008, lines 991–94a.

Luke 2:23. The Lindisfarne and Rushworth Gospels, vol. 3. Publications of the Surtees Society 43. Durham: Andrews and Co., 1834, 17. London, British Library, Cotton MS Nero D.iv, fol. 144r.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, March 2021, s.v. man, n.1 (and int.); March 2021, s.v. wife, n., woman, n.; second edition, 1989, were, n.1., wapman, n.

Wright, Thomas. Anglo-Saxon and Old English Vocabularies, vol 1, second ed. Richard Paul Wülcker, ed. London: Trübner and Co., 1884, 265. HathiTrust Digital Archive. London, British Library, Cotton MS Cleopatra A.iii.

Image credit: London, British Library, Cotton MS Nero D.iv, fol. 144r.

Louisiana

Facsimile of a 1684 map of Louisiane (Louisiana) made by Jean-Baptiste-Louis Franquelin, who accompanied Cavelier’s expedition. The facsimile dates to c.1900; the original has been lost.

Facsimile of a 1684 map of Louisiane (Louisiana) made by Jean-Baptiste-Louis Franquelin, who accompanied Cavelier’s expedition. The facsimile dates to c.1900; the original has been lost.

30 April 2021

Louisiana was named in 1682 after King Louis XIV of France by René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle. The claim to the territory was exchanged among European states several times, and it was eventually sold by Napoleon to the United States in 1803 for $16 million (around $375 million in today’s dollars). Louisiana, or Louisiane in French, originally encompassed an area much larger than the present-day state. The territory, at the time of the sale to the United States, included what are now the states of Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska; most of what are now Louisiana, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Minnesota; and portions of what are now Texas, New Mexico, Alberta, and Saskatchewan.

Obviously, there is no single, indigenous name for this wide territory, and even within the borders of the present-day state, there were a number of indigenous tribes and bands who made it their home. Currently, there are four federally recognized tribes in the state of Louisiana: the Chitimacha Tribe of Louisiana, the Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana, the Jena Band of Choctaw Indians, and the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. The Chitimacha are the only tribe in the state still occupying a portion of their original lands.

While there is no single indigenous name for the territory now occupied by the state of Louisiana, there are any number of indigenous toponyms for places within the state. For example, in the Tunica language New Orleans is called tonrɔwahal'ukini, literally white man’s town, from oni (person) + rɔwa (white) + hali (land) + uki (to dwell).

The name Louisiana appears in English by 1693, using the French spelling. From Bohun and Barnard’s Geographical Dictionary of that year:

Louisiane, a large Country South West of New France in America, lately discovered by the French as far as to the Mouth of the River Colbert, in the South Sea, and so called in honour of their present King Lewis XIV. They report it to enjoy a very fruitful Clime for Wine, Corn, Fruits, Fish, and Fowl.

The familiar English spelling appears the following year in a theological text by Humphry Hody:

The Inhabitants of Louisiana, another Country in the Northern America, lately discover'd by the French, seem to hold, That the Soul after Death shall be re-united to its Body.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Bohun, Edmund and J.A. Bernard. A Geographical Dictionary. London: Charles Brome, 1693, 238. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Everett-Heath, John. Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Place Names, sixth ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2020. Oxfordreference.com.

Hody, Humphrey. The Resurrection of the (Same) Body. London: Awnsham and John Churchill, 1694, 46. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. Tunica-English Dictionary, 2020.

Image credit: Library of Congress. Public domain image.

martini

A classic martini of Tanqueray gin, Noilly Prat dry vermouth, and two queen olives

A classic martini of Tanqueray gin, Noilly Prat dry vermouth, and two queen olives

29 April 2021

A classic martini is a cocktail: consisting of gin and dry vermouth, garnished with an olive—or for a dry martini skip the vermouth or just uncap the bottle and wave it over the glass, letting some of the fumes deposit on the surface of the gin. One can, if one must, substitute vodka for gin.

The original name for the drink, however, is the Martinez, and the concoction was different from the drink we cherish today. The name first appears in O. H. Byron’s 1884 The Modern Bartender’s Guide:

Manhattan Cocktail, No. 1.

(A small wine-glass.)

1 pony French vermouth.
½ pony whisky.
3 or 4 dashes Angostura bitters.
3 dashes gum syrup.

Manhattan Cocktail, No. 2.

2 dashes Curacoa.
2 " Angostura bitters.
½ wine-glass whisky.
½ " Italian vermouth.
Fine ice; stir well and strain into a cocktail glass.

Martinez Cocktail.

Same as Manhattan, only you substitute gin for whisky.

And the name apparently comes from the town of Martinez, California, located on the Carquinez Strait that connects the Sacramento River to the San Pablo and San Francisco Bays, and as best we can tell the drink was invented there in the 1860s. The shortening to martini is probably due to the familiarity of and association of the drink with Martini and Rossi-brand vermouth. The manufacturers of Martini and Rossi filed for a U. S. trademark in 1882, but their vermouth was available in the United States, and specifically in San Francisco, in 1881, if not earlier, under the name of the parent company, Martini and Sola.

The clipped form martini is in place by 1887, when it appears in the pages of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on 30 June. The article is about a meeting of the Wheelmen’s Club, a bicycling club with a significant social dimension:

I am imformed [sic] that the concentrated and sustained wisdom of the entire entertainment committee exhausted itself in one grand effort. Its culmination, the magnificent, costly and unique bauble concealed within this uncouth wrapping. Search if you will, the blazing corruscations of Tiffany’s; wander amazed through the art galleries of the metropolis; aye, even sample the bewildering depths of the “Martini cocktail,” and you will find nothing that can compare with, meet or equal the elegant tribute that is now about to be bestowed upon you. Take it, my brother, treasure it as a memento of a pleasing hour in your existence and when you shall have fallen from your vigorous manhood and push with faltering feet the worn and broken pedals of life’s tandem may the brake of eternity’s tightening grip upon your lagging wheels bring sharply to your failing memory, bright and clear in the happy halo of the past, the days of fraternal companionship and joy in the old Long Island Wheelmen.

On 22 August 1965, the Oakland Tribune published an article on the history of the martini, which included a third-hand account of its invention. The story is plausible in that it conforms to all we definitely know about the invention of the drink, but the accuracy of the details is unknowable:

Here are the facts given her by former Fire Chief John M. “Toddy” Briones, now a vigorous 91 years of age and also a resident of Martinez.

“The martini cocktail, composed of two-thirds gin, one-third vermouth, a few drops of orange bitters and a green olive, was the invention of Toddy’s brother-in-law, Julio Richelieu, at his bar on Ferry Street in Martinez very nearly 100 years ago.

Richelieu, a young Frenchman who came to Contra Costa via New Orleans, afterwards married Toddy Briones older sister, Belinda. He told Toddy exactly how the Martini was born and how it got its real name.

A miner, en route to San Francisco on horseback, stopped at Richelieu’s bar on Ferry Street located on the site of present day Amato’s Sport Club.

“He asked for a bottle of whiskey, laying a Durham tobacco sack of gold nuggets on the bar near the gold weigh-in scale.” Mrs. Ritch quotes Toddy Briones.

“In those days Richelieu dispensed Jesse Moore whiskey from a barrel only, serving customers by the shot glass. If a man wanted a bottle to take out he brought along his own empty bottle or else paid 25 cents for one of Julio’s.

“The minor, who said he was in a big hurry and didn’t have an extra bottle with him, told Richelieu to take an extra small nugget for the container. At the door, with his purchase in hand, he turned and said:

“‘Bartender, don’t you think I ought to get something extra for all that gold?’

“Richelieu agreed and quickly mixed a few ingredients at random, including a green olive.

“‘Try that,’ he advised.

 “The miner, who had watched his every move, tasted the mixture. Smacking his lips, he said, ‘What is this?’

“‘That,’ said Richelieu, ‘is a Martinez cocktail.’

“‘A Martinez? Never heard of it. It’s good.’”

With those words the miner who downed the first cocktail that was to become famous as the martini, walked out of Julio Richelieu’s saloon into obscurity.

Julio Richelieu made many “Martinez” cocktails after that, not only at his Ferry Street place in Martinez, but at two other bars he built and operated in Martinez and at his final place in San Francisco near Lotta’s Fountain on Market Street.

“In Martinez,” the Ritch report continues, “he built a two-story structure on Escobar Street where Nick’s Place now stands, and later a bar at the corner of Thompson Street and Alhambra Avenue, now part of the parking area of the Laird-Lasell complex.

“From Richelieu’s in San Francisco the ‘Martinez’ cocktail spread rather widely. Before the turn of the century it appears on more than one leading hotel menu and on the menu of at least one steamship line.”

Another, less-well-supported version of the invention of the cocktail has Jerry Thomas, who tended bar at the Occidental Hotel in San Francisco in the 1860s, and who is also credited with inventing the Tom and Jerry cocktail, creating the first martinez for a traveler who was on his way across the bay to that town. But there is no good reason to think this version of the origin story is true.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Almanacco Italo-Svizzero Americano. San Francisco: J. F. Fugazi, 1881, 135. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Byron, O. H. The Modern Bartender’s Guide. New York: Excelsior Publishing, 1884, 21. EUVS Vintage Cocktail Books.

“Don’t say Martini, Say ‘Martinez.’” Oakland Tribune, 22 August 1965, 19-CM, 126. Newspaperarchive.com.

“Long Island Wheelmen.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 30 June 1887, 2. Brooklyn Public Library.

O’Brien, Robert. This Is San Francisco. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1948, 143–44. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, December 2020, s.v. martini, n.2.

Tamony, Peter. “Martini Cocktail.” Western Folklore, 26.2, April 1967, 124–27. JSTOR.

Photo credit: Ken Johnson, 2006. Used under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

Maryland / Chesapeake

A 1732 map of delineating the border between Maryland and Pennsylvania and showing the Chesapeake Bay. The map was annexed to an agreement between Charles Calvert, the fifth Lord Baltimore, and the Penn family. The map did not accurately reflect Mar…

A 1732 map of delineating the border between Maryland and Pennsylvania and showing the Chesapeake Bay. The map was annexed to an agreement between Charles Calvert, the fifth Lord Baltimore, and the Penn family. The map did not accurately reflect Maryland’s territorial claims and Calvert reneged on the agreement. The dispute was finally resolved in 1750 in favor of Pennsylvania, and the Mason-Dixon line, subsequently set as the boundary between the colonies, largely accords with this map.

28 April 2021

The state of Maryland is named for Queen Henrietta Maria, the wife of Charles I, who granted the colony’s charter to Cecilius Calvert, the second Baron Baltimore in 1632. Calvert originally suggested the name Crescentia (Land of Growth), but the king suggested Mariana in honor of his wife. Calvert replied that the Jesuit priest Juan de Mariana had written tracts critical of monarchy and providing a justification for tyrannicide (a critique that would turn out to be on point given Charles’s fate in 1649), so Charles ordered the name be styled Terra Mariae in the charter, which was Anglicized to Maryland. The relevant passage in the 1632 charter, which is in Latin, gives both the Latin and English names:

SCIATIS quod NOS de ampliori gratiâ nostrâ certâ scientiâ et mero motu nostris dictam regionem ac insulas in provinciam erigendas esse duximus prout eas ex plenitudine potestatis et prærogativæ nostræ regiæ pro nobis hæredibus et successoribus nostris in provinciam erigimus et incorporamus eamque Terram Mariæ Anglicè MARYLAND nominamus et sic in futuro nominari volumus.

(KNOW YOU, that WE, of our more ample grace, certain knowledge, and pure motive, have ordered that the said region and islands be constituted as a province, as out of the fullness of our royal power and prerogative, we do, for us, our heirs, and our successors, constitute and incorporate the same into a province, and name it Terram Mariæ, in English MARYLAND, and we wish it to be called thus henceforth.)

It is often claimed that the name is a reference to the Virgin Mary because the colony was intended to be haven for Roman Catholics and other non-Anglicans, although this did not always work out so well in practice. While some may have understood the name to have religious significance, that was not the intent of either Charles or Calvert in so naming it.

The indigenous population of what is now Maryland was largely Algonquin, of which there are many tribes and dialects, but also included Iroquois and Siouan bands. As such, there is no single native name for the region the state now encompasses. But the geographic feature that dominates the state is the Chesapeake Bay, and that name comes from the Algonquian Chesepiook (meaning something like Great Water). The claim that it is from the Delaware kitshishwapeak (Great Salty Bay) has been largely discounted by linguists.

Here is an early use of the name from 1606, in the form Chesupioc, published in the collection of travel narratives known as Purchas His Pilgrimes:

The six and twentieth day of Aprill, about foure a clocke in the morning, wee descried the Land of Virginia: the same day wee entred into the Bay of Chesupioc directly, without any let or hinderance; there wee landed and discouered a little way, but wee could find nothing worth the speaking of, but faire meddowes and goodly tall Trees, with such Fresh-waters running through the woods, as I was almost rauished at the first sight thereof.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Andrews, Matthew Page. History of Maryland: Province and State. Garden City: Doubleday, Doran, 1929, 11. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Bright, William. Native American Placenames of the United States. Norman: U of Oklahoma Press, 2004.

“The Charter of the Province of Maryland” (20 June 1632). The Laws of Maryland, vol. 1 of 2, William Kilty, ed. Annapolis: Frederick Green, 1799. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Everett-Heath, John. Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Place Names, sixth ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2020. Oxfordreference.com.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, March 2021, s.v. Maryland, n.

Purchas, Samuel. Purchas His Pilgrimes, the fourth part. London: William Stansby, 1625, 1686. Early English Books Online.

Image credit: Unknown cartographer, 1632. University of Pittsburgh. Public domain image.