gopher / gofer / gopher-wood

A plains pocket gopher (Geomys bursarius). A brown rodent with long claws.

A plains pocket gopher (Geomys bursarius). A brown rodent with long claws.

14 October 2021

A gopher is a burrowing rodent of the family Geomyidae. Some thirty-five species of gopher are found throughout North and Central America. The word is almost certainly a clipping of megopher, a name for the gopher tortoise (Gopherus polyphemus) in several Muskogean languages. In Choctaw, a Muskogean language, kofussa means hollow or excavation, and the gopher tortoise is a burrowing creature. (Both /g/ and /k/ are velar plosives and it’s easy to exchange one for another, so the initial /k/ is understood as and becomes /g/ to those unfamiliar with the language.) But there are two other commonly seen uses of gopher, one is biblical and etymologically unrelated, the type of wood that Noah used to build his ark, and the second is a play on words used to refer to a menial assistant, one who runs errands.

Megopher appears in English in an 8 July 1789 letter published in the Augusta Chronicle and Gazette of the State to days later:

The father of Snarler, old Manger, ran himself to death that he might keep the allegators in the neighbouring pond from eating light-wood-knots; and Zoila, his mother, was found the ninth day driving the buzzards from the bones of a polecat, and at last expired by the mouth of a megopher’s hole, where she had lain twenty days keeping the owner from enjoying his habitation.

Megopher, in the form magopher, continued in southern, especially Georgia, dialect into the twentieth century.

The clipping gopher, used as the name of the tortoise, is recorded before that of the rodent. William Bartram did so in his 1791 account of his travels through the southern United States. The word appears twice in his account:

The dense, or caverns, dug in the sand-hills, by the great land-tortoise, called here Gopher*, present a very singular appearance: these vast caves are their castles and diurnal retreats, from whence they issue forth in the night, in search of prey.

The note to this passage reads:

* Testudo Polyphemus.

The second instance in Bartram’s account reads:

Observed as we passed over the sand hills, the dens of the great land tortoise, called gopher: this strange creature remains yet undescribed by historians and travellers. The first signs of this animal’s existence, as we travel Southerly, are immediately after we cross the Savanna River.

The use of gopher as a synonym for tortoise or turtle continues in southern US dialect to this day.

Gopher as the name of the rodent is first recorded several decades after its use to mean a tortoise, in an installment of an 1811 series of newspaper articles by H.M. Brackenridge, Sketches of the Territory of Louisiana:

The gopher is another non descript, which lives under ground, in the prairies; but is also found east of the Mississippi.

Non-descript is being used here in its technical sense of a previously undescribed species. an editor’s note to this passage reads:

If the gopher is not the animal described, in the systima natura, as mus bursorius, by Linnӕus, it is, as yet, undescribed. A careful examination, into the construction of its mouth, and the number of the teeth, will convince us, that it ought not to belong to the genus mus, but ought to form a new genus, between that family, Arctomys.

The series of articles was re-edited and published in 1814 under the title Views of Louisiana.

That accounts for the animals, but what about the use of gopher to mean a menial assistant? That sense is a play on words. It is usually spelled gofer, but is occasionally spelled gopher, as well. A gofer or gopher is someone who runs errands for someone else, who “goes for” things. The term is recorded in a 1930 list of gangster slang terms that appeared in the journal American Mercury. In the glossary it is defined as “a dupe,” but the example sentence that is given uses it in the sense of a menial person:

Gofor, n.: a dupe.
“Listen monkey, don’t be a gofer all your life.”

The biblical gopher wood, on the other hand, is a bit of a mystery. Gopher here is a translation of the Hebrew גֹפֶר‎. But no one knows exactly what the Hebrew word refers to. It is what is known as a hapax legomenon, a term that appears in only one place. That place is Genesis 6:14. Its first English appearance is in a 1568 translation of the Bible:

Make thee an Arke of Pine trees

To which the translator has added the marginal note:

Gophere a very lyght kinde of wood

The 1611 Authorized (King James) Version translates Genesis 6:14 as:

Make thee an Arke of Gopher-wood

Some present day translations, like the New Revised Standard Version translate it as cypress wood. To which the New Oxford Annotated Bible adds the note: “Meaning of Heb uncertain.”

So, we have three different origins here. A Hebrew word of mysterious meaning, a Native American name for a burrowing creature, and a pun on gopher and go for.

Discuss this post


Sources:

American Heritage Dictionary, fifth edition, 2020, s.v. gopher, n.

Bartram, William. Travels Through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West Florida, the Cherokee Country, the Extensive Territories of the Muscogulges or Creek Confederacy, and the Country of the Chactaws. Philadelphia: James and Johnson, 1791. Reprinted London: J. Johnson, 1792, 180. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Brackenridge, H.M. “Sketches of the Territory of Louisiana.” Louisiana Gazette (Saint Louis), 28 February 1811, 2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

———. Views of Louisiana. Pittsburgh: Cramer, Spear, and Eichbaum, 1814, 58–59. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Burke, James P. “The Argot of the Racketeers.” The American Mercury, December 1930, 456. The Unz Review.

Dictionary of American Regional English, 2013, s.v. magopher, n., gopher, n.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2021, s.v. gofer, n.

The Holie Bible. London: Richard Jugge, 1568. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

The Holy Bible (Authorized Version). London: Robert Barker, 1611. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Letter, 8 July 1789. The Augusta Chronicle and Gazette of the State (Georgia), 11 July 1789, 4. Digital Library of Georgia: Georgia Historic Newspapers.

Merriam-Webster, s.v. gopher, noun.

New Oxford Annotated Bible (New Revised Standard Version). Michael D. Coogan, ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2007.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. gopher, n.1, gopher, n.2, gofer, n.3.

Photo credit: U.S. National Park Service, no date. Public domain image.

scapegoat

A brown-and-white goat standing on a tree stump

A brown-and-white goat standing on a tree stump

13 October 2021

[14 October 2021: added the Voltaire quotation.]

A scapegoat is one who is punished for the sins or mistakes of others. It’s an odd word, and one would not guess its meaning from understanding the elements of the compound, a goat that escapes. It arises out of biblical translation, either an error on the part of translators or an attempt to make comprehensible something that the translators assumed their readers would not understand.

The biblical passage in question is Leviticus 16:7–10, which describes a rite of atonement. In present-day translation, in this case the New Revised Standard Version, it reads:

He [i.e., Aaron] shall take two goats and set them before the Lord at the entrance of the tent of meeting; and Aaron shall cast lots on the two goats, one lot for the Lord and the other lot for Azazel. Aaron shall present the goat on which the lot fell for the Lord, and offer it as a sin offering; but the goat on which the lot fell for Azazel shall be presented alive before the Lord to make atonement over it, that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azazel.

The Hebrew לַעֲזָאזֵל (for Azazel) literally means “angry/fierce god” and is understood to be a non-Hebrew god, contrasting with Yahweh or the “Lord,” prior to the development of monotheism or of a demon after that. The fate of either goat is not a good one, either sacrifice in the temple or dying alone at the paws of a predator in the wilderness.

The English word scapegoat enters into the picture with William Tyndale’s 1530 translation of the Pentateuch, in which he renders the phrase for Azazel as the word scapegoat:

And he [i.e., Aaron] shall take the two gootes and present them before the Lorde in the dore of the tabernacle of witnesse. And Aaro[n] cast lottes ouer the .ij. gootes: one lotte for the Lorde, a[n]d another for a scapegoote. And Aaron shall bringe the goote apo[n] which the Lordes lotte fell, and offer him for a synneofferynge. But the goote on which the lotte fell to scape, he shall sett alyue before the Lorde to reco[n]cyle with a[n]d to let him goo fre in to the wildernesse.

It’s a rather free translation that, while accurate enough, omits mention of a god or demon that would probably be unknown to the readership. The 1611 Authorized (King James) Bible maintained Tyndale’s use of scapegoat.

But while Tyndale was the first to use scapegoat, he was far from the first biblical translator to play fast and loose with this passage. The Septuagint, whose translation of the Hebrew Pentateuch into Greek dates to the third century BCE, translates it as τραγος αποπομπαίος (tragos apopompaios, sent-forth goat). Jerome’s Vulgate translation renders it as caper emissarius (sent-forth goat). And slightly later than Tyndale, Myles Coverdale’s 1535 translation, which is based on Latin and Dutch translations, not directly from Hebrew, renders it as fre goate (free goat).

After Tyndale, and especially after it appears in the 1611 Authorized Version, scapegoat starts to be used more widely, but for several centuries only in the context of sermons and commentaries on Leviticus. It isn’t until the late eighteenth century that we start seeing scapegoat being used generally to mean someone who is unfairly blamed.

The 1778 play The Gospel-Shop features a character named Dr. Scapegoat, described as “a rich covetous Methodist Preacher.”

And on 30 November 1778, the London newspaper the Public Advertiser published a commentary objecting to a display of four Roman lictors, attendants and bodyguards to the emperor, comparing them to civil servants in eighteenth-century England. It’s contemporary political commentary masquerading as art criticism. And the scapegoats in question are esteemed ministers and members of parliament, who are undone by their staffers:

Or could it be that eminent Tea-dealer, that Parliament-jobber, who, notwithstanding his glaring Inferiority to Mediocrity, is so very notable, such an Ar-all, so never at a Loss, to whom nothing comes amiss, who, by perking his false Importance in his Sovereign’s Face, has passed upon him all the Results of a Parliament’s systematical Servility, for HIS OWN Dexterity of Management and high Statesmanship; who, if not the primary Instigator of that calamitous Civil War, which, with so much Ease, with so much Advantage, and, above all, with so much Honour might have been avoided, has been, at least, a fribbling, officious Minister of it: Who now seems to aim at making his Master the Scapegoat of the Storm under Color of the ridiculous Flattery contained  in the Attribution to him of being “his own Minister.”

And a bit later we have Admiral John Byng being labeled a scapegoat. Byng was held responsible for the 1756 loss of Minorca to the French during the Seven Years’ War. Byng was court-martialed and executed. This passage appears in a multi-volume set, The Naval and Military History of the Wars of England. The volumes were produced between 1795–1807, but the individual volumes are, for the most part, not dated, so we don’t know the exact year this was published:

They ridiculed and refuted the reasons he had given for returning to Gibraltar, after his scandalous encounter with the French squadron; and, in order to exasperate them to the most implacable resentment, they exagggerated [sic] the terrible consequences of losing Minorca, which must now be subdued through his treachery or want of resolution. In a word, he was devoted as the scapegoat of the ministry, to whose supine negligence, ignorance, and misconduct, the loss of that important fortress was undoubtedly owing.

Byng was executed on 14 March 1757, and two years later, in his novel Candide, Voltaire makes reference to Byng’s execution. Candide and his traveling companion Martin, upon their arrival in England, witness the execution of an admiral, who is not named but clearly represents Byng. In an exchange that perfectly sums up the concept of scapegoating, Candide asks Martin:

“Et pourquoi tuer cet amiral?”

“C'est, lui dit-on, parcequ'il n'a pas fait tuer assez de monde; il a livré un combat à un amiral français, et on a trouvé qu'il n'était pas assez près de lui.”

“Mais,” dit Candide, “l'amiral français était aussi loin de l'amiral anglais que celui-ci l'était de l'autre!”

“Cela est incontestable, lui répliqua-t-on; mais dans ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de temps en temps un amiral pour encourager les autres.”

("And why kill this Admiral?"

"It is because he did not kill a sufficient number of men himself. He gave battle to a French Admiral; and it has been proved that he was not near enough to him."

"But," replied Candide, "the French Admiral was as far from the English Admiral."

"There is no doubt of it; but in this country it is found good, from time to time, to kill one Admiral to encourage the others.")

Discuss this post


Sources:

The Bible. Authorized King James Version with Apocrypha. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997. Leviticus 16:7–10.

Bible, Pentateuch. William Tyndale, trans. Antwerp: Johan Hoochstraten, 1530, Leviticus 16, fol. 29v. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Biblia. Myles Coverdale, trans. Cologne: E. Cervicornus and J. Soter, 1535, Leviticus 16, fol. 49r. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Biblia Sacra Vulgata, fifth edition. Robert Weber and Roger Gryson, eds. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007, Liber Levitici 16:7–10.

Hill, R. The Gospel-Shop, a Comedy of Five Acts. London: Fielding and Walker, 1778. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

Merriam-Webster New Book of Word Histories. Springfield, Massachusetts: Merriam-Webster, 1991, 411–12, s.v. scapegoat.

The Naval and Military History of the Wars of England, vol. 6. London: Lewis and Co., 1795–1807, 57. Eighteenth Century Collections Online (ECCO).

The New Oxford Annotated Bible, third edition. Michael D. Coogan, ed. New Revised Standard Version. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2007, Leviticus 16:7–10, 165.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. scapegoat, n., scapegoat, v.

“Ulterior Remarks.” Public Advertiser (London), 30 November 1778, 2. Gale Primary Sources: Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century Burney Newspapers Collection.

Voltaire. Candide (1759). Paris: Chez Lefèvre, 1829. Project Gutenberg.

———. Candide (1759). New York: Boni and Liveright, 1918. Project Gutenberg.

Image credit: Armin Kübelbeck, 2010. Used under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

scab

Attack of striking railroad workers on scab switchmen and brakeman during an 1888 strike against the Burlington and Quincy Railroad in Chicago. Black and white drawing of men throwing rocks and bricks at railroad workers aboard a train. Other men, armed with shotguns, are atop the train as well.

Attack of striking railroad workers on scab switchmen and brakeman during an 1888 strike against the Burlington and Quincy Railroad in Chicago. Black and white drawing of men throwing rocks and bricks at railroad workers aboard a train. Other men, armed with shotguns, are atop the train as well.

12 October 2021

[Update, 13 October 2021: paragraph about Ode to a Scab added.]

A scab is the growth that covers a wound to the skin. It is also a slang term for a strikebreaker in a labor dispute. But how did the word develop such different meanings?

Scab is from the Old English sceabb, which referred to a variety of skin diseases, including but not exclusively leprosy. In two old entries, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) splits the word into two, with shab coming from the Old English, and scab coming from an unattested Old Norse root, *skabbr. But the OED immediately calls this etymology into question. Not only is the Old Norse root unattested, but the earliest citation of the scab form is in a thirteenth-century Kentish dialect, and that dialect did not have significant Old Norse influence. It seems more likely the older OED entries are incorrect, and scab and shab are different forms of the same word, with the later scab form being influenced by the Latin scabies.

An example of the Old English is from the translation of Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care, written in the late ninth century:

Soðlice se hæfð singalne sceabb se þe næfre ne blinð ungestæððignesse. Ðonne bi ðæm sceabbe swiðe ryhte sio hreofl getacnað ðæt wohhæmed. And ðonne bið se lichoma hreof, ðonne se bryne þe on ðæm innoðe bið utaflihð to ðære hyde. Swæ bið sio costung ærest on ðæm mode, & ðonne færeð utweardes to ðære hyde, oððæt hio utascieð on weorc.

(Truly, he has chronic scabbiness who never desists from sin. Then by the scabs very directly the scurf symbolizes that fornication. And when the body is scurfy, then the inflammation that is inside spreads to the skin. So is the temptation first in the mind, and then travels outward to the skin, until it bursts forth in action.)

The aforementioned thirteenth-century Kentish source is from a sermon:

Se leprus signefiez þo senuulle men. si lepre þo sennen. Þet scab bi tokned þo litle sennen. si lepre be tokned þo grete sennen þet biedh diadliche. Ase so is lecherie. spusbreche. Gauelinge. Roberie. þefte. Glutunie. drunkenesse. and alle þo sennen þurch wiche me liest þo luue of gode almichti and of alle his haleghen.

(The leprous signify the sinful men. The leprosy is their sins. That scab symbolizes their little sins. The leprosy symbolized their great sins that are deadly. So, leprosy is spouse-breaking, usury, robbery, theft, gluttony, drunkenness, and all those sins through which one loses the love of God almighty and all his saints.)

Note that in both these early uses, scab refers to a skin disease, and it’s metaphorically associated with sinfulness and bad action. The sense of scab referring to the growth that covers a wound to the skin appears by the late fourteenth century. It appears in a c.1380 translation of Lanfranc of Milan’s treatise on surgery in a section about how to heal ulcers of leprosy and ringworm:

If þere ben pustulis þat ben hote & ful of blood, & þe skyn be ful of humouris & neische, þanne it is good for to garce þat skyn, & þanne waische al his heed with þat blood hoot, & þanne hile his heed wiþ caule leuis. þanne aftirward anoynte al his heed wiþ oile of notis ouþer of camomil hoot, til al þe scabbis þerof be wel tobroke. & þanne bigynne for to drie with þese driynge medicyns.

(If there are pustules that are hot and full of blood, and the skin is full of humors and tender, then it is good to cut that skin and then wash all his head with that hot blood, and then heal his head with kale leaves. Then afterward anoint all his head with oil of nuts or hot camomile, till all the scabs thereof are well broken open. And then begin to dry with these drying medicines.)

By the late sixteenth century, a slang sense of scab had developed, meaning a scoundrel or low person. Skin diseases are not pleasant, and as we have seen, have been associated with bad behavior from the beginning, so it’s easy to see how the leap was made from the medical conditions to low character. We see this slang sense in Robert Wilson’s 1590 play The Three Lords and Three Ladies of London. In the play, three lords and their pages, Policy (page Wit), Pomp (page Wealth), and Pleasure (page Will) debate which of three London women is the right match for Policy:

Pom[pe]. Whom louest thou pleasure?

Plea[sure]. Hearke ye. Whisper in his eare.

Pom[pe]. Lush, ye lie.

Wil. If my maister were a souldier, that word wold haue the stab.

Wit. Wel Wil, stil you'll be a saucie Scab.

This use was likely preceded by John Lyly’s use of the slang sense of scab in his play Endymion. The play was probably written in the 1580s, but was not published until 1591. Furthermore, the 1591 printing omits the portion that includes scab. The word appears in a song that ends Act 4, Scene 2, but the song is mentioned as a stage direction, but the words are not reproduced in that early printing. The song isn’t printed until a 1632 edition:

Watch[men]. Stand! Who goes there?
We charge you appeare
Fore our Constable here.
(In the name of the Man in the Moon)
To vs Bilmen relate,
Why you stagger so late.
And how you come drunke so soone.

Pages. What are yee (scabs?)

Watch. The Watch:
This the Constable.

Pages. A Patch.

Const. Knockʼem down unlesse they all stand
If any run away,
Tis the old Watchmans play,
To reach him a Bill of his hand.

We cannot know if scab appeared in the Lyly’s original version of the play. The song lyrics may have changed between the 1580s and 1632.

The sense of a low, disreputable person is applied to strikebreakers in labor disputes by the latter half of the eighteenth century. The OED has this citation from Bonner & Middleton’s Bristol Journal of 5 July 1777:

To the Public. Whereas the Master Cordwainers have gloried, that there has been a Demur amongst the Men's and Women's Men;—we have the Pleasure to inform them, that Matters are amicably settled. [...] The Conflict would not been [sic] so sharp had not there been so many dirty Scabs; no Doubt but timely Notice will be taken of them.

And another early use of the strikebreaker sense appears in the Articles of the Friendly and United Society of Cordwainers (shoemakers) of 4 June 1792:

Some of the Articles make mention of scabs. And what is a scab? He is to his trade what a traitor is to his country; though both may be useful to one party in troublesome times, when peace returns they are detested alike by all. When help is wanted, he is the last to contribute assistance, and the first to grasp a benefit he never laboured to procure. He cares but for himself, but he sees not beyond the extent of a day, and for a momentary and worthless approbation, would betray friends, family and country. In short, he is a traitor on a small scale. He first sells the journeymen, and is himself afterwards sold in his turn by the masters, till at last he is despised by both and deserted by all. He is an enemy to himself, to the present age and to posterity.

That’s how pustules on the skin were transformed into strikebreakers.

Note: a piece titled Ode to a Scab, about strikebreakers, is frequently credited to Jack London, but there is no evidence that he wrote it. The piece dates to at least 1912, when it is circulated anonymously in a number of trade-union journals. London’s name becomes attached to it by 1950, long after the writer’s death.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Aspinall, A., ed. “Articles of the Friendly and United Society of Cordwainers” (4 June 1792). Early English Trade Unions. London: Batchworth Press, 1949, 84. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Fleischhaker, Robert, ed. Lanfrank’s “Science of Cirurgie.” Early English Text Society OS 102. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1894, 185. HathiTrust Digital Archive. Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole MS 1396.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2021, s.v. scab, n.1.

Hall, Joseph. “Dominica tercia post octavam epiphanie” (The Third Sunday After the Eighth Epiphany). Selections from Early Middle English 1130–1250, vol. 1 of 2. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1920, 218. HathiTrust Digital Archive. Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Laud Misc. 471.

Latham, R.E., D.R. Howlett, and R.K. Ashdowne. Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2013, s.v. scabies. Brepols: Database of Latin Dictionaries.

Lewis, Charlton T. and Charles Short. A Latin Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1879, s.v. scabies. Brepols: Database of Latin Dictionaries.

Lyly, John. Endimion, The Man in the Moone. London: I. Charlewood for the Widow Broome, 1591, sig. G2r. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

———. “Endimion.” Sixe Court Comedies. London: William Stansby for Edward Blount, 1632, sig. E2r–v. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, s.v. scab(be n.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. scab, n., shab, n.

Sweet, Henry, ed. King Alfred’s West-Saxon Version of Gregory’s Pastoral Care, vol. 1 of 2. Early English Text Society OS 45. London: N. Trübner, 1871, 70. HathiTrust Digital Archive. London, British Library, MS Cotton Tiberius B.11.

Wilson, Robert. The Pleasant and Stately Morall, of the Three Lordes and Three Ladies of London. London: R. Jhones, 1590, sig. Bv. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Image credit: J. Anderson, 1888. In Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, 7 April 1888. HathiTrust Digital Archive. Public Domain Image.

Sam Hill

Illustration by Gustave Doré for Canto 15 of Dante’s Inferno, where Brunetto Latini accosts Dante, while Virgil, Dante’s guide, looks on. Black and white image of a hellscape, raining fire and brimstone, where a naked man accosts a laurel-wreathed man, while another laurel-wreathed man watches. Around the three central figures are naked, suffering men.

Illustration by Gustave Doré for Canto 15 of Dante’s Inferno, where Brunetto Latini accosts Dante, while Virgil, Dante’s guide, looks on. Black and white image of a hellscape, raining fire and brimstone, where a naked man accosts a laurel-wreathed man, while another laurel-wreathed man watches. Around the three central figures are naked, suffering men.

11 October 2021

Sam Hill is a North American euphemism for hell or the devil. The origin is not known for certain, but it is most likely just a variation on the word hell, with a bit of personification of the devil thrown in for good measure, ala the names Old Nick, Ned, or Scratch. The phrase seems to have arisen in the 1820s.

The earliest use of Sam Hill that I have found is in a letter to the Providence, Rhode Island Independent Inquirer that was published on 12 February 1830. The letter is allegedly written by a Frenchman named Jean-Jacques Grenouille asking about the origin of the phrase. The letter and Monsieur Grenouille, himself, are almost certainly fictions invented by the paper’s editor. But even though it’s fictional, the letter shows that Sam Hill was in common use at the time—its use seems to have been something of a fad—but also was probably a relatively recent coinage. The letter reads in part:

When I walk on the deck, I see one sailor man have one wheel, which he turn round first au droit, to the right, then turn him to the left, and I speak him, “Why for what you so moch labor always?”—and he say, “Sair, the dam ship steer like Sam Hill.” Well I not can understand, and then I go down in my chamber cabin, and I look in [line indistinct] not find Sam, but I ask the captain, and he laugh and say, “Sam one man’s name;” so I look and find Hill, one little mountain, but still I not understand what was Sam Hill.

Well, in three four day more, one night, the ship rock very moch, and the captain ask our officier, “What wether is on deck?” and he say, “it blow like Sam Hill.” Some four day more the ship go in New-York, and I walk on the land and stay for short time, and then I go in one batiment de vapeur, one steam-boat, and go at Providence. By and by one man what was not never been before in one steam-boat, he was look in the water, and he say, “I snum, she foam at the mouth like Sam Hill!” Ma foi! more Sam Hill.

[...]

Monsieur le Prentair, if you can discover what is Sam Hill, or any of your correspondent, will you make me oblige in write one letter to me?

The elided section contains many more instances of the writer encountering people, from all strata of American society, using the phrase Sam Hill.

Another plausible explanation for Sam Hill was proffered by A.E. Sokol in a 1940 article in the journal American Speech. Sokol points out that Carl Maria von Weber’s opera Der Freischütz premiered in America in 1825, the first Continental opera to play in the States. That opera features a demon named Samiel, and Sokol suggested that Sam Hill is a variation on that name. Samiel could easily become Sam Hill, and the dates work—at least until someone unearths a use that antedates 1825—but Occam’s razor suggests that a variation on hell is a more parsimonious explanation.

Discuss this post


Sources:

American Heritage Dictionary, fifth edition, 2020, s.v. sam hill, n.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2021, s.v. Sam Hill, n.

Grenouille, Jean-Jacques. Letter. Independent Inquirer (Providence, Rhode Island), 12 February 1830, 1. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers. (The database’s metadata is incorrect, giving an 1829 date, so use that year if you search for this source.)

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. Sam Hill, n.

Sokol, A.E. “What the Sam Hill?” American Speech, 15.1, February 1940, 106–09. JSTOR.

Image credit: Gustave Doré, 1861. Public domain image.

werewolf

8 October 2021

Woodcut, c. 1685. Three men, armed with clubs and a pitchfork, drive a wolf into well. On the left, of the scene the wolf, dressed in human clothing, is hung. In the background are the villages of Neuses and Eschenbach. The German caption reads: “Great Incident! With an outlawed wolf, who in 1685 in the Margraviate of Ansbach carried away and ate a number of children, was finally caught in a well on 9 October at Neuses near Eschenbach, and later hung.”

Woodcut, c. 1685. Three men, armed with clubs and a pitchfork, drive a wolf into well. On the left, of the scene the wolf, dressed in human clothing, is hung. In the background are the villages of Neuses and Eschenbach. The German caption reads: “Great Incident! With an outlawed wolf, who in 1685 in the Margraviate of Ansbach carried away and ate a number of children, was finally caught in a well on 9 October at Neuses near Eschenbach, and later hung.”

As most people know, a werewolf is a fictional monster, a person who changes into a wolf. In the most common English-language form of the legend, this transformation takes place at the full moon. Werewolf is a word with a very straightforward etymology, but with some interesting side notes. It is a compound of the Old English words wer (man) + wulf (wolf). So, a werewolf is literally a man-wolf. (Cf. man / woman / wife.)

But the word appears either only once or three times in the extant Old English corpus, depending on how you count it. The three passages in which it appears are by the same writer, repeated three times with slightly different wording/scribal variations. The writer is, coincidentally, Wulfstan (literally “wolf-stone”), the archbishop of York. In his writing, Wulfstan liked to play with the word wulf, and he doesn’t use werewolf in the sense we’re familiar with today. He uses it as a metaphor for Satan, a “wolf” that preys on humans. The passage as it appears in the first law code of Cnut (c.1020) reads as follows:

Þonne moton þa hyrdas beon swyðe wacore & geornlice clypigende, þe wið þone þeodsceaðan folce sceolan scyldan: þæt syndan bisceopas & mæssepreostas, þe godcunde heorda bewarian & bewerian sceolan mid wislican laran, þæt se wod freca werewulf to swyðe ne slite, ne to fela ne abite of godcunde heorde.

(Thus, the shepherds, who must protect the people against this ravager of the people must be very vigilant and zealously cry out: these are the bishops and priests who must defend and protect the divine flock with wise teaching, so that the mad, gluttonous werewolf does not rend nor bite too many of the divine flock.)

The Consiliatio Cnuti, a twelfth-century translation of Cnut’s law code into Latin, uses the word virlupus (literally man-wolf), which is a nonce calque of the English.

Given that Wulfstan’s uses of the word are in a different sense than that of the legendary monster, and that they are isolated by several centuries from the next uses of the word, later uses of the word to mean a lycanthrope may represent an independent coinage. When werewolf reappears in the late twelfth century, wer was still in common use and could produce compounds.

Werewolf stories became extremely popular in England at that time. The most famous is probably Marie de France’s lai of Bisclavret, written in the late twelfth / early thirteenth century. Marie wrote in Anglo-Norman, the dialect of French spoken by the English nobility at the time. Bisclavret opens with the lines:

Quant de lais faire m’entrement,
Ne voil ublier Bisclaveret.
Bisclaveret ad nun en bretan,
Garwaf l’apelent li Norman.

(Since I have undertaken to compose lais,
I don’t want to forget Bisclavret.
Bisclavret is the name in Breton;
the Normans call it Garwaf.

Garwaf and its variant spellings, which are found elsewhere in the lai, do not appear in Anglo-Norman other than in this text. Garwaf appears to be an Anglo-French speaker’s pronunciation of the English werewolf.

But while garwaf or variations thereof do not appear in French, there is one instance in Latin that refers to the French word. In c.1212, around the same time Marie de France was writing, Gervase of Tilbury, an Englishman, wrote Otia Imperialia (Recreation for the Emperor) for the Holy Roman Emperor Otto IV. It is a book of marvels and includes the following passage:

Vidimus enim frequenter in Anglia, per lunationes homines in lupos mutari, quod hominum genus gerulfos Galli nominant, Angli vero Werewlf, dicunt. Were enim Anglice virum sonat, Wlf lupum.

(For we have often seen in England that men are changed into wolves by the phases of the moon, that type of men the French name gerulfos, the English, in truth, call werewolf. For in English were expresses virum, wolf lupum.)

This is the only known appearance of gerulfus in a Latin text, and would seem to be another instance of garwaf, this time by an Englishman Latinizing the Anglo-Norman word with its Francophone pronunciation of the English werewolf. Normally we speak of English borrowing words from Anglo-Norman, but werewolf is a case of the transfer going in the other direction.

One last note, in medieval usage werewolf could also mean a man-eating wolf. We see that use in The Master of Game, a book about hunting written c.1410 and found in several manuscripts, the preferred one being London, British Library, Cotton Vespasian B.12:

Ther ben some that eten children or men and ete noon oþere flessh fro þe tyme þat þei be acherned with mennys flessh, for rather þei wolde be dede, and þei ben cleped werwolfes for men shuld be “ware” of hem.

(There are some that eat children or men and eat no other flesh after the time when they are blooded with men’s flesh, for they would rather be dead, and they are called werewolves because men should be “wary” of them.)

From this passage, it would seem that by the early fifteenth century the first element in the compound, wer, was no longer understood, and the false etymology of a wolf to be wary of had developed. It seems the practice of making up plausible sounding folk etymologies is not just a modern one.

Discuss this post


Sources:

American Heritage Dictionary, fifth edition, 2020, s.v. werewolf, n.

Anglo-Norman Dictionary, 2008, s.v. garulf.

Dictionary of Old English Web Corpus, 2009.

Gervase of Tilbury. “Otia Imperialia.” In Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz. Scriptores rerum Bunsvicensium. Hannover: Förster, 1707, 895. Google Books.

Libermann, Felix. Die Gesetze Der Angelsachsen, vol. 1 of 3. Halle: Max Niemeyer, 1903. 1 Cnut § 26.3 (c.1020), 306–307. London, British Library, MS Cotton Nero A.1, fols. 3r–41r.

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, s.v. wer-wolf, n.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. werewolf, n.

Waters, Claire M. “Bisclavret.” The Lais of Marie de France. Peterborough, Ontario: Broadview, 2018, 144–45. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Wulfstan. Old English Legal Writings: Wulfstan. Andrew Rabin, ed. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library 66. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2020, 252–53.

Image credit: Unknown artist, c.1685. Public domain image.