Category Archives: Etymology

April 19, 2024 · 2:25 AM

Second-Hand Thoughts

Today, I went with a friend to a large second-hand warehouse; it’s an organized treasure hunt of sorts. Every section is well-defined, so you know where to look if you’re looking for something specific, and don’t need to waste time scanning isles of glass dishes when you’re looking for office supplies. But it got me thinking about the whole topic and the cultural differences around the world.

When I first came to Switzerland, “Brockenhäuser” (or Brocki, as they’re called here) were few and far between; Swiss people weren’t usually found in such shops. I think Swiss people (and I can only really compare this to the Zürich area – perhaps in other areas of Switzerland the sentiments were different) used to have a sense of embarrassment, as if one wasn’t successful enough to buy new. But nowadays the importance of recycling has grown, and people have discovered the fun of treasure hunting.

I grew up in a region of America where garage sales were every Thursday through Sunday during summer months; my father and I were the most frequent hunters in our family, searching for treasures amongst the junk. I once found a 1920s white gold, 24-diamond dinner ring for 10¢! Someone had cleaned out grandma’s house and had no idea what they had; I took it to a jeweller to have it examined, so I knew that what I’d found was the real deal. I once took my Swiss husband along on the cultural experience when we were in the States on holiday, and he found a stack of pristine Life magazines of the first moon landing. They now grace our library shelves among the astronomy books.

In Britain, I know of some roads where nearly every other shop is a charity shop; one had a sign in the window asking for books, because they were selling nearly a thousand a week. Whenever I’m in Britain, I fly with as empty a bag as I can manage to leave room for charity shop treasures.

Fraktur Script

Today when I was at the shop, I was looking for specific things, mostly to do with crafts; I got a few antique German books (with the Fraktur script, often generically referred to as “Gothic text”); I’m fluent in German, but even I have to really concentrate to decipher the old type-text, especially as spelling has shifted or become more standardised. So honestly, I’m fine with using them in crafts, though the antique book lover in me fights to preserve them! I also bought sheet music for the same purpose. I kept an eye out for things I could use to make gigantic flowers with – that’s the next prop I’ll be making for our church stage area for the spring/summer season. In this particular shop, by the way, there are very few items with prices; once you get to the register, they assess what you’ve got, and calculate the set prices (such as the antique books, which ran from 3.- to 8.-); usually the end price for everything is quite reasonable – after all, they need to make room for the new inventory being restocked every 30 minutes!

What is the culture of second-hand shops in your region? Even within a country, it can vary wildly. Do you have boot sales, garage sales, thrift stores, charity shops, meet & swaps, buy-sell-trade shops, street markets, or another variety? I’d love to hear about your experiences! And if you’ve done any of the above, what was your best treasure find? Please comment below!

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April 10, 2024 · 5:44 PM

History Undusted: The Folly of King Alfred the Great

Recently, my mother sent me a link on Facebook and asked me to write an article about it; it’s definitely an interesting topic – so thanks, Mom!

First of all, for those of you who don’t know what a folly is:

In architectural terms, a folly is a building that is either constructed as decoration which suggests another purpose or is a practical garden building that transcends its purpose with extravagant features. An example of the former term would be buildings that were designed from the outset to look like ancient ruins, such as Wimpole’s Folly in Cambridgeshire, England; an example of the latter would be buildings like the Dunmore Pineapple in Stirlingshire, Scotland (I’ve been to this site a few times and was once able to go inside the pineapple). Designed to look like a giant pineapple, it was actually a working hothouse; that’s perhaps another story to tell. As for today’s topic, the folly of King Alfred would fall into the former definition.

Second of all, who was King Alfred, and why does he bear the sobriquet Great?

Statue of Alfred the Great at Wantage, Oxfordshire

Born in 849 AD, Alfred the Great was King of the West Saxons from 871 to 886, and then King of the Anglo-Saxons from 886 to 899. He lived in a time when Viking invasions and warring tribes were common. Both of his parents died when he was young, and his three older brothers reigned before he eventually came to the throne. The battles, invasions and wars are too numerous to mention; to be a king meant to be at war. At the age of 21, he was already the King of the Wessex and a battle veteran. In early 878, the Danes struck like lightening, taking Chippenham (on the map below, you’ll see that it was in the heart of Alfred’s territories); inhabitants surrendered or fled, and it reduced Alfred and his men to hit and run means of getting provisions; they withdrew into the tidal marshes of Somerset (the area on the other side of the River Severn, just below Wales on the map below). Alfred reevaluated his strategy and learned from his enemy: He and his men began a guerilla war against the Danes, and by May, he’d defeated them in the Battle of Edington. Knowing that he would never be able to drive out such a powerful enemy, he made a treaty with them, establishing borders and what became known as the Danelaw territory; King Guthrum of the Danes converted to Christianity, with Alfred as his godfather and soon son-in-law as he sealed the treaty by marrying one of Guthrum’s daughters, Aethelflaed.

The Great comes from the fact that he united many of the disparate tribes; he recognized the deterioration in learning caused by years of disrupting wars and the Viking’s destruction of the monasteries, which were centres of learning and literacy. He recognized the fact that without widespread literacy, a king cannot rule – a people who were not united by a written language would be more vulnerable; but united through a common tongue, they would have a sense of loyalty and continuity in turbulent times. They would be able to adhere to laws, reach legal decisions, and be called to arms more readily if they could read a common language. He set out to make the English proud of being English and thus be prepared to fight for it.

By stopping the Viking advance against all odds, and consolidating his territories, he set the stage for future kings. His accomplishments in Wessex became the seed that eventually gave fruition to a united Anglo-Saxon England, which is why he alone among all kings or queens of England bears the sobriquet Great.

King Alfred’s Folly:

King Alfred’s Folly – Credit, Flickr, Andrew Bone

King Alfred’s Tower was built between 1769 and 1772. To put those dates into perspective, here are a few events from the year that construction began: 13-year-old Mozart, under his father’s control, was just finishing his third concert tour of Italy; James Watt improved his design for a steam engine that would spark the Industrial Revolution; King Charles III of Spain sent missionaries to California, founding San Diego, Santa Barbara, San Francisco and Monterey; Daniel Boone set out to explore what would become Kentucky; and finally, in August of that year, Napoleon Bonapart was born in Corsica.

The tower itself was built near the site of Egbert’s Stone, which is said to mark the mustering site for the troops of the Battle of Edington; the tower was intended to commemorate the end of the Seven Years’ War and the ascension of King George III to the throne of England. It was designed in the Palladian style (a European architectural style) by the architect Henry Flitcroft, at the commission of Banker Henry Hoare. While the reasons for commissioning the tower might be altruistic of Hoare, its site and magnificence might have had something to do with the fact that the tower was an eye-catcher for those touring the parks at his private estate, Stourhead.

Standing at over 40 metres high (131 feet) and a circumference of 51 metres (167 feet), it is completely hollow; it is a triangular structure with a round “tower” at each corner, though only one of them has a use – a spiral staircase of 205 steps, with no landing places along the dizzying ascent or descent. The only safety is a rope “railing” anchored occasionally along the central pillar of the staircase; passing others up or down can be a tight squeeze, and it is not a climb for the faint-hearted. Once reaching the top, you’ll find a crenelated parapet that surrounds a viewing platform offering a great view of the surrounding region; the centre of the platform is surrounded by a guard rail as it is a gaping hole straight down to the ground level; it’s covered with a mesh netting to prevent birds from using the tower as a dovecote.

In 1944, the tower was damaged when a Canadian single-engine plane crashed into it in the fog, killing all five aboard. In the 1980s, it finally underwent repairs and restoration; the statue of King Alfred above the main entrance was also repaired at that time, restoring a missing right forearm. A stone tablet (also in need of restoration) between the door and statue reads:

ALFRED THE GREAT
AD 879 on this Summit
Erected his Standard
Against Danish Invaders
To him We owe The Origin of Juries
The Establishment of a Militia
The Creation of a Naval Force
ALFRED The Light of a Benighted Age
Was a Philosopher and a Christian
The Father of his People
The Founder of the English
MONARCHY and LIBERTY

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March 28, 2024 · 3:07 PM

10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #4

Picking up from where I left off in February, here are a few more everyday phrases that have been gleaned from the times when ships at sail were the most influential source of importing new ideas, foreign words and catchy tunes (such as shanties). The first of these phrases might be recognized by Star Trek fans, as the captain usually used this term or something similar to hand over the authority of the ship whenever he left the bridge.

Take the Conn: A term used to take over navigational duties on the bridge of a ship (this comes from the mid-1800s, during the age of iron-clad warships). Idiomatically, it means to take control of a situation. The word conn is either a noun or a verb and comes from conning tower – a raised platform from which the entire deck and surrounding environment can be observed.

Sailing Close to the Wind: Strong winds can be just as problematic at sea as no wind; strong winds can unexpectedly shift and take control of a boat’s direction, and many sailors will lower their sails until more favourable conditions exist. To use strong winds for sailing is risky and unpredictable but sometimes necessary; the modern term refers to taking risks that may be unreasonable, being close to breaking the law or going too far.

All Hands on Deck: A call to action – everyone must assist in resolving a problem or addressing a situation. During inspection or trouble, all hands were called to the deck; everyone needed to be present or accounted for, and working as directed.

On the Right Tack/Track: The correct course while sailing requires you to tack or move the sail to catch the wind to keep you on course. To take the wrong tack means to be off course, heading in the wrong direction. Tack has changed to track in a more modern language. Today it refers to Taking the line/course of action that leads to the correct conclusion.

Overboard: If cargo or people went overboard when sailing, the call “overboard” would be yelled out to draw attention to the event. With luck, the items or people could be recovered, but unfortunately, this was not often the case.

Abandon Ship: When a ship was sinking or being overrun by an enemy ship, sailors would need to abandon their posts and escape. The call to abandon the ship was considered a last resort.

As the Crow Flies: After crossing the oceans, sailors would watch for birds to detect nearby land. Following the direction of birds, such as a crow or seagulls, got them closer to shore to follow it to a port. Crows fly straight, and so it refers to the shortest distance between two points.

Tide Over: When a ship could not get under sail due to poor winds, they would ride the tide until the winds returned. If something tides one over, it will last until new provisions can be obtained or until conditions change.

High and Dry: If a ship was caught in low tide or ran up on the shoals, it might end up being stranded with no hope of recovery. The term was to be caught high and dry, as in up out of the water. It’s used today to describe the feeling of being abandoned, stranded, or helpless.

Sink or Swim: Tossing a person overboard resulted either in them sinking or swimming. The term was made popular in swashbuckling movies featuring pirates deciding on whether they should spare their captives or not. Today, it refers to either failing (sinking) or succeeding (swimming) in a task or an endeavour.

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March 14, 2024 · 5:07 AM

History Undusted: The Atrocities of the Milan Conference

The topic of this article has been on my mind for the past two weeks; last week flew by so fast I barely had time to blink, let alone order my thoughts into coherent sentences. The topic was sparked by coming across an article online about what is known as the “Milan Conference” or “The Second International Congress on Education of the Deaf” (though it was, in fact, the first), held in Milan, Italy in 1880.

To give you a bit of my personal background, I learned BSL (The Glaswegian dialect) and translated for the deaf when I lived in Scotland. Being as close to that community as I was, I’d shockingly never heard about the Milan Conference until a fortnight ago.

When I first moved to Switzerland, I wanted to continue working with the deaf and began taking Swiss German sign classes. I immediately began hitting brick walls: The crux of the matter was spelled out – they didn’t want hearing people in their world. It made little sense to me back then, and it was frustrating. Also at that time, my husband wasn’t yet hearing impaired – which would have made a difference in their attitude toward me, as people with family members affected by hearing loss were more acceptable to them. In light of the Milan Conference, their reticence makes perfect sense. I never was able to break that barrier, and I’ve lost much of the sign language I once used fluently.

The conference was an international gathering of (hearing – with only ONE exception) educators of the deaf and mute. The imperialist arrogance of the discriminating resolutions passed profoundly wounded and damaged the deaf community for nearly 100 years.

To sum up the conference’s resolutions briefly, the majority decided that sign language was disadvantageous to integrating the deaf into the hearing world, and they banned – yes, banned – sign language from the education of the deaf in favour of “oralism” – forcing the deaf to read lips to make them assimilate to the hearing world’s culture. Deaf teachers lost their jobs, and an overall decline of deaf professionals resulted – they were no longer allowed the tools to communicate in their own language, and communication professions such as artists, lawyers and writers fell silent. Here in Switzerland, there was a two-fold impact: Deaf children were forced to sit on their hands and learn to lip-read from High German-speaking teachers; but when they went home on holidays, they couldn’t lip-read their own family’s dialects of Swiss German, and so they were isolated from society both in school and at home. The anger and resentment to the hearing world still runs deep.

Most disturbing for me is the fact that Alexander Graham Bell, whose own mother and wife were deaf and who worked with the deaf throughout his life – including helping bring Helen Keller out of her silent world as a blind and deaf girl – was one of the strongest proponents for oralism at the conference. The most famous picture of Bell and Keller is one in which Keller is finger-spelling on Bell’s hand. It is a form of sign language. Yet he advocated to eradicate it.

The resolutions of 1880 held their ground until they were overturned in 2013 when an official apology was issued to the deaf community. Eleven years ago. Let that sink in. Inroads were made to teach sign in pockets here and there; in America, most schools for the deaf only began teaching sign language again in the 1960s; in the UK it was around a decade later. Generations suffered under the restriction. [For those who have been deaf their whole lives – what’s known as pre-lingually deaf – it means that sign language is their first language, while spoken English is their second; this can lead to difficulties in understanding complex or abstract messages in English. Imagine being denied your own native language…] Only in 2003, the British government recognised BSL as a minority language – but so far, Scotland is the only country in the UK that has given BSL legal recognition. The shift in understanding and recognition had already been set in motion by the time I’d moved to the UK, which is perhaps why the Milan Conference was no longer a topic when I was involved in the deaf community.

The ban is the main reason there are so many regional dialects today: Even though sign language was officially banned, the deaf still needed to communicate among themselves, and so signs evolved “under the table” within each pocket of deaf students. There was no exchange of information; for example, “bread” took on the shape of the local speciality, so in the French part it looks like a long baguette, while in the Zurich region, it looks more like a half-sphere. There are 5 major Swiss-German dialects; in Scotland, there were at least 7.

Please click here to watch a ~13-minute video by Storied about the history of sign language and the Milan Conference. If you’d like to learn more about the timeline of sign language in Britain, please click here to visit University College London’s website, and to learn more about BSL in Scotland, click here to read the Scottish Parliament’s article.

ASL, American Sign Language, also has a forgotten predecessor that was largely written out of history: The Plains Indian Sign Language, also known as “hand talk”. For an interesting video about that history, click here.

 I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief insight into a long and tangled topic, and that it encourages you to look into it more.

Just as a parting trivia: Everyone recognizes the sign for phone; but did you know that it became a euphemism in some deaf communities for the restroom/loo? Back when restaurants had their public phones near the “small closets”, the Deaf would sign “phone” as a polite, covert way of saying they were going to the restroom/loo.

Below are the British Sign Language and the American Sign Language alphabets; I’d encourage you to learn one or the other and stretch those grey cells a wee bit!

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February 21, 2024 · 4:11 PM

10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #3

Some of today’s nautical idioms are well known, such as to be on board with a proposal or suggestion or learning the ropes in a new job or position, while others, such as three sheets to the wind are less common (unless you happen to work in a bar – then it may come in quite handy). Either way, enjoy these, matey!

Be On Board: As part of a crew, a sailor bore their part of the responsibilities. In today’s terms, it means to accept or agree with a proposal or a way of doing something and go along with it.

Rats Deserting a Sinking Ship: Rats and mice were common aboard ships, often in the bulkhead (lowest section of a ship, where the grains were stored (the weightier things being stored low and balanced to keep the ship sturdy in rough seas). If the ship began to take on water, the rats would go up the deck ladders to stay away from the water; if they started jumping overboard, sailors wouldn’t stand much better of a chance (most sailors could not swim). It’s a vividly grim picture of life aboard. Now, it’s an idiom describing people abandoning a failing activity or situation.

Close/Tight Quarters: Tightly packed (e.g. people in a small space). Space was at a premium, especially on the lower decks of a ship of sail. Men slept in hammocks close together and shared the space with stowed ship equipment and their own storage chests. Even today on submarines, bunks are shared by those who are off-duty and those on-duty to save sleeping quarter space.

Run a Tight Ship: Manage and organization strictly, efficiently, and effectively. A ship, especially in times of war, was run tightly to avoid unnecessary dangers and/or deaths, and to maintain discipline that would be needed to succeed in crucial moments.

Learn the Ropes: Sails were raised and lowered with ropes, and knowing how to control the sails allowed a ship to take full advantage of the wind and sail safely. There were miles of ropes on a ship, each with an important and specific function. Learning the ropes was essential for everyone aboard – it would keep others out of danger and oneself alive! Today, one learns the way things are done in a given setting or situation.

Broadside: The broadside was the side of the ship which sat above the waterline; cannons were arranged on several decks, and when ships sat broadsides facing, firing simultaneously, it was known as broadsiding. Today, it refers to being taken off guard or being surprised by something unpleasant.

 Broad in the Beam: Describes the width of the beam or mast on a larger ship. It denotes a person who’s wide across the hips and buttocks.

Keel Over: To collapse, to die. If the keel of a boat were to rise out of the water, the ship would be in danger of capsizing; this might happen due to a storm or damage by an enemy attack.

To Keelhaul: To rebuke harshly. It was a punishment meted out in extreme cases by dragging someone, ankles weighted, by ropes beneath the ship along or over the keel (the backbone of wood along the bottom of the ship). As these were usually covered with barnacles, clothes and skin would be shredded by the barnacle shells, and if the salt water of the ocean didn’t disinfect the wounds on the way up, it could be a death sentence. How much it was actually practised is difficult to say, as written records are sparse (perhaps a cruel captain didn’t want it on record, or perhaps it was not as widely practised as we think); the most concrete records of the punishment come from the Dutch. It was banned by the British Royal Navy around 1720, and by the Dutch around 1750. That bans were necessary tells its own tale…

Three Sheets to the Wind: Implies an unsteady, drunk person. The sheet referred to the ropes (lines) used to control the trim (the advantageous angle of the sails in relation to the wind) of the sail. If the sheets are loose, the sails will flap in the wind which causes the ship to lurch about like a drunken sailor. There are variations of the number of sheets in the idiom: 1 would be tipsy, 3 would be staggering drunk!

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February 9, 2024 · 4:13 AM

10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #2

Today’s everyday phrases can come in handy when you’re in a tight spot, avoiding danger, or reaching your goal (land ho!) Chockablock came in handy for me last week, as it described how I felt after having been sick for nearly two months (Covid into bronchitis, joy), and then catching up with all those little things in our household that had gone undone. Anyone who’s been married for any length of time will know that spouses tend to take over specific jobs – whether that’s carrying out the rubbish or doing the laundry, cleaning drains or watering plants. I’ll let you guess which jobs are whose. Catching up with those undone jobs stemmed the tide of accumulating chores, and helped me get our home back to shipshape and in Bristol fashion! So enjoy these phrases, and please share in the comments which ones apply to your life!

Chockablock: Jam-packed; overcrowded; completely filled, stuffed, or jammed tightly together. You may have heard the term block and tackle; This refers to a system in which a rope, chain or cable (= tackle) is passed over pulleys enclosed in two or more blocks, one fixed and one attached to a load (see image). When these blocks are pulled so close together that no further movement is possible, this is known as being chockablock (this is the usual spelling, which illustrates its meaning perfectly – no space, not even a dash between words!).

Stem the Tide: Try to prevent a situation from becoming worse than it already is. Nautically, it means to tack (steer) against the tide or oncoming storm to avoid being blown off course or capsized.

To be Shanghaied: A city in China, Shanghai implied a long voyage (just as Switzerland today implies neutrality in the collective conscious). When landsmen were impressed (volunteered against their will) into the British or American navies in the days of wooden ships of sail, to be Shanghaied meant to be impressed and sent away from home for a long time or extended voyage (not necessarily to China!).

Limey: Shortened slang for “lime juicer”, referring to the English naval ships and the practice of carrying barrels of limes or lime juice to ward off scurvy on long voyages. As the British navy was a dominant force on the seas, the term gradually came to mean British.

Shipshape (and in Bristol Fashion): Everything is okay and in good order. Bristol was, at one point, Britain’s main west coast port; the idiom was used to describe everything being in order with cargo and at the port.

Give a Wide Berth: Leave space for, veer around. Even when a ship is at anchor, it will move with the tide and wind, so the berth, or a docking space, for a ship needs to be ample for a safe mooring. The modern phrase still denotes the danger of steering too close to an unpredictable situation.

Loose Cannon: Unpredictable danger (can be said of a person or situation). When a cannon or a cannonball broke free from its mooring, it created a hazardous situation as it rolled around or across the deck during a storm or in battle.

Port, Starboard: This simple explanation is that these are left and right, respectively, on any ship or airplane. But simple is a bit boring! Buckle up: In the past, as today, the majority of people were right-handed; ships of sail had rudders centred on the stern (back of the ship), but the steering oar came up onto the quarter deck through the right side of the stern. This leads us to the term starboard: Old English steorbord literally meant steer-board, the side on which a vessel was steered.

When pulling into a port, as the steering oar was on the right side, they would anchor starboard out, port in. The port, the left side of the ship as seen from the stern facing forward toward the bow, was formerly known as larboard, from Middle English ladde-borde, meaning loading board (side); it was eventually renamed as the similarity to starboard was confusing in the loud life aboard.

Most airplanes follow this tradition today, with boarding being on the left (port) side. In fact, jet bridges are designed to match the left side of the plane, so unless you are climbing into a grasshopper flight on a remote island, you will board port side!

Ahoy: Used to hail a ship, a boat or a person, or to attract attention. Used today as a humorous warning of impending danger or inconvenience.

Land Ho: To call out “Land ho!” was to let the crew know that land had been spotted. It is a way to let everyone know that the end of a voyage is imminent.

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January 24, 2024 · 4:43 PM

10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #I

A phrase I use often is to “batten down the hatches” – meaning “put things away in preparation for (leaving on holidays, guests arriving, or the next project)”. I know that it originates from ship jargon, where it means preparing for rough seas or as a precaution to some other danger. That set me thinking about how many other phrases and idioms we use regularly in English that have their roots in nautical history. I’ve written on this topic before, highlighting the phrases of cathead, to swing a cat, down the hatch or break the ice, and even toe the line vs tow the line. Here are 10 more to get you thinking, with more to come!

Long Shot: A situation needing a good deal of luck. The guns aboard ships of sail were often inaccurate, or the decks would be too high for close-range accuracy. If a cannon successfully struck its target from a “long shot”, it was considered extraordinarily good luck.

Flotsam and Jetsam: A collection of miscellaneous items of little importance; odds bods, odds and ends. Flotsam refers to items unintentionally cast adrift or washed ashore, while Jetsam describes items intentionally cast overboard, such as when lightening the load for buoyancy.  They are almost always a paired idiom.

Taken Aback: Suddenly or unexpectedly checked or disappointed; startled or surprised.  It comes from the situation when a ship’s square sails were flattened against the masts by a sudden change of wind, stopping the forward motion.

In the Doldrums: Listless, depressed. Doldrums, aka the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), is an area of the ocean near the equator where calms, squalls, and light, baffling winds are common. Sailing ships would often hit the Doldrums and be stranded until the wind could pick up their sails and empower the ship to move on. Large ships of sail had the disadvantage of having no ability to be oared forward.

The Cut of One’s Jib: One’s general appearance. The jib was the large, triangular foresail of a ship. When someone on the watch spotted a vessel on the horizon, they would look at the cut of the sails to determine whether they were friend or foe. A modern equivalent would be plane spotters, who can determine the make of an airplane by the shape of its hull and wings.

Show One’s True Colours: Being honest, open. Though the cut of the jib would determine a ship’s origin, it became more complicated as ships were captured by an enemy and repurposed for their own use. Because of that, ships of sail would hoist their colours – flags – to proclaim their current nationality. To show one’s true colours meant being honest, because enemy vessels might fly false colours until within firing range and then switch flags, declaring their true intentions at the last minute.

Pipe Down: Imperative – be quiet. Aboard a ship, the bo’sun’s pipe whistle would signal various activities.  To “pipe down” was the signal given to dismiss the crew from duty.

Landlubber: This word has a long history, though it eventually became known as a derogatory nautical term for people who struggle with being at sea or who get seasick and therefore dislike boats, or what the sailor considered a lazy person preferring life ashore. The term lubber goes much further back: In the mid-fourteenth century, it meant a clumsy, stupid person who lives in idleness. An earlier form, Lobi, meaning lazy lout, may have Scandinavian roots; it may also derive from the Old French term lobeor, meaning swindler, parasite. Any way you slice it, being called a Landlubber was basically an insult – or an accurate description of your character, depending on whether you were on the receiving or giving end of the word…

Bottoms Up: Known today as a drinking cheer to encourage people to finish off their drink, it has a much darker past. During the days of sail, the British navy would press men into service. If you volunteered, you were given “the King’s shilling” as first payment. Scrupulous press gangs would slip a shilling into a man’s drink, and if he finished off the drink, he was considered as having accepted the payment and was hauled off to sea. Innkeepers became wise to their tactics and began serving drinks in glass beer mugs rather than earthenware mugs, encouraging their patrons to check “bottoms up” to make sure there wasn’t a coin in the glass.

Scuttlebutt: The Butt was a cask with a capacity of between 110 to 140 imperial gallons of liquid (see my article about it here).  Scuttle was an opening in the ship’s deck, and as a verb, it meant to intentionally sink a ship by either putting a hole in it or leaving the portholes open with the intention of making a vessel unusable by an enemy. The barrels aboard ships were usually laid on their sides within braces, and a scuttle was a hole in the side for a cup or scoop to be inserted. The drinking hole became a popular gathering place, and the term “drinking hole” also became synonymous with the office drinking fountain or the local pub – a place to gather and have a drink together. To scuttlebutt means to idly chatter, start rumours, or gossip.

Which of these phrases are new to you? How many do you use, and if you use them, how frequently? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

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December 6, 2023 · 5:14 AM

Oh, Gnome, it’s almost Christmas!

Image Credit: Familyflowers.ca

This past weekend I had a craft stand at our church’s annual advent market. Ten hours a day. I sold (as you might guess by the title), among other things, gnomes. It got me thinking about the history of these little creatures. I don’t know about where you live, but here in Switzerland, they’re popping up everywhere this season! Statues, cookie tins, ornaments, wrapping paper, socks and anything else you can think of.

You might think of garden gnomes; but the gnomes I’m referring to simply have a bushy beard, a nose, and a body with a hat on top; sometimes arms, but no eyes, though I added artisan sunglasses to some of mine, and those sold out relatively quickly. The image below is a typical Wichtel here in Switzerland.

I’d always vaguely assumed that gnomes were Scandinavian in origin, but it turns out that they are actually Swiss! First introduced in the 16th century by Paracelsus, born Theophrastus von Hohenheim, who was a Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher of the German Renaissance. The term “gnome” might have even been his own invention, based on the Latin genomos, meaning earth-dweller. Paracelsus may have been the first to describe them, but there are examples of similar myths in other cultures, too.

Perhaps the reason I’d thought of gnomes as Scandanavian is that, in the early 19th century Romantic writings, gnomes became entangled in the fairy tales which led them to becoming synonymous with goblins, leprechauns, and brownies, which are in turn similar in character to the Nordic troll. Trolls are said to live in isolated mountains, rocks or caves, and as such, are “earth-dwellers”. While the gnomes were thought to be helpful, trolls were rather unhelpful. Scandinavia does have a gnome-type character as well, known as the Danish and Norwegian nisse, the Swedish tomte, or Finnish tonttu, as well as many dialectical names throughout Scandinavia. In German, they are known as Gartenzwerg or Wichtel.

In folklore, gnomes were thought to be short, stout guardians of mines, treasures, and precious stones, and were the antithesis of the tall and slender elves. JRR Tolkien was likely influenced by these legends when creating his races of dwarves and elves.

The practice of garden statues goes back to ancient Rome, where they set up idols thought to help plants thrive and protect animals. by the 18th century, however, such garden statues were simply seen as a status symbol of wealthier families. The statuary as we think of it today is visually based on the Disney dwarves of Snow White; before that, their look was less homogeneous. Over time, they fell into disfavour among serious gardeners; at the Chelsea Garden Show in the UK, they were banned for several years; the powers that be were accused of snobbery, as garden gnomes were popular among the working class; they were eventually allowed in the show’s garden designs once again.

Garden gnomes in particular are something that you either find adorable or tacky. Like any display piece, if it’s done well, they can add a touch of whimsy to your garden or home.

The topic is one of those rabbit holes you could easily dive into; the traditions of the gnome, after all, go back thousands of years.

A Scandanavian Tomte, or German Wichtel

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November 24, 2023 · 11:19 PM

History Undusted: Jumièges Abbey

Jumièges Abbey is one of the oldest Benedictine monasteries in Normandy; to dive into its history is akin to diving down Alice’s rabbit hole. For instance, I could say that the abbey was sponsored by the Frankish Queen Balthild, as she persuaded her husband, King Clovis II, to donate land to the Frankish nobleman Filibertus in order to found an abbey. But to know who she was, ah, that is where the intrigue begins.

Who and where were the Franks, when were they a thing, and what are they to us today?

Who, where and when: They were a Western European people who began as a Germanic people along the lower Rhine (which flows from Bonn, Germany, and ends up in the North Sea at the southwestern corner of the Netherlands), along the northern frontier of the Roman Empire. During the Middle Ages, they expanded their scope of rule as the Western Roman Empire began to collapse, and they imposed their power over many post-Roman kingdoms and beyond. That’s the crux of the matter though, as with any political history, it’s far more complex than that. The Franks are distinguished into two main groups by historians: The Salian Franks, to the west, and the Rhineland Franks, to the east.

In the mid-5th century, The Salian king, Childeric I, was a commander of Roman forces against the Gauls, most of whom Childeric and his son, Clovis I, conquered in the 6th century. Clovis was the first king of the Franks to unite the Frankish tribes under one ruler, and he founded the Merovingian dynasty – which ruled the Frankish tribes for 2 centuries. Clovis, in essence, is known as the first king of what would become France. As a side note, the Frankish name of Clovis is at the root of the French name of Louis, borne by eighteen kings of France.

Now, back to Queen Balthild (AD 626 – 680): Sold into slavery as a young girl, she was beautiful and intelligent. She served in the household of Erchinoald, the mayor of the palace of Neustria to Clovis II. Her master, a widower, wanted to marry her, but she hid herself from his sight until he married someone else (apparently the household of servants was numerous enough to enable her to avoid her unwanted suitor). Perhaps through Erchinoald’s notice of her, she came to the attention of Clovis II, who proposed to her and was accepted; hiding herself away may have been a political tactic to gain a higher rank with the king than with the mayor; According to the Vita Sancti Wilfrithi by Stephen of Ripon (written around AD 710), Bathild was a ruthless ruler, in conflict with the bishops and perhaps responsible for several assassinations. Some historians interpret Queen Balthild’s association with founding monasteries as a way of balancing or neutralizing aristocratic opposition to her rule. By installing her own bishops and donating lands for abbeys, she strengthened her own power as ruler (she was regent during the minority of her son). To put that in proper perspective, she was no different than most male counterparts of her day. [I could go off on a tangent about how adjectives differ when applied to the male or female state of affairs (a man is ambitious; a woman is pushy or ruthless), but I won’t. Yet.] From most accounts, however, she was pious and humble. Whichever way you butter that croissant, in ca. 860 she was canonized, thereafter to be referred to as Saint Balthild…

In 654, Balthild gave a parcel of royal land to Philibert, or Filibertus, on which he founded the Notre Dame de Jumièges. His main spiritual influence was that of the Irish monk, Columbanus (who founded several monasteries in the Frankish and Lombardi kingdoms).  The abbey flourished until the Viking invasions of 841 (Remember Rolf Ganger?), which caused disruptions to its first momentum, but it soon began to prosper again. The church itself was rebuilt between 1040 and 1066; it was dedicated on 1 July 1067, with none other present than William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy and King of England (1066 and all that). The patronage of such a nobleman ensured the abbey’s success.

Jumièges Abbey was, like any abbey of its time, a veritable town. The church was only the heart of the community; there was a 14-acre enclosed park, terraced gardens, the abbatial manor, a bakery, landscaping to evoke biblical scenes, a hostelry, the 14th century “Charles VII” walkway (a covered walkway between the Notre Dame and St Peter’s church, named after the fact that Charles VII and his favourite mistress visited the monastery), and the cloister.

The next major disruption was from 1415, when the monks were forced to regularly seek refuge in Rouen as the English occupied Normandy during the Hundred Years’ War. The abbey eventually recovered and began to flourish again, until the whole province was plunged into the chaos of the Wars of Religion (1562-1598), resulting in the population’s decimation and famine. In 1649, the abbey was taken over by a Benedictine congregation, when some of its former glory was revitalized. Having survived all of that, its ruin came at the hands of the French Revolution, when it was sold as a “national property” and turned into a stone quarry (seen only as a source of ready-cut stones). At last, its historical value was recognized in the 19th century, putting an end to its wanton deconstruction.

When we visited the abbey last summer, its grandeur, although only ruins today, is still evident; when it was at its height of prosperity, it must have been an awesome sight to behold! In the photos below, which I took during our visit, you can see evidence of the various phases of destruction and reconstruction. Enjoy!

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November 15, 2023 · 4:21 AM

History Undusted: Rolf Ganger, Viking Outlaw and Founder of Normandy

How does a rabble-rousing Viking end up causing a war centuries after his death (as if stirring up trouble during his lifetime wasn’t enough fun and gigs)? Read on… this is going to be a quick, deep dive into history, so buckle up!

Firstly, let’s start with Rolf Ganger, aka Rollo, Rolloun, Rollon, or Hrôlfr – depending on which language you read. On his tomb, the Latin version of his name is Rollonis (see image).

Tomb of Rollonis (Rolf) Ganger, the first ruler of Normandy, in Rouen Cathedral (He’d probably roll in his grave to find himself so simperingly portrayed…!)

The Heimskringla is a collection of ancient Norwegian sagas about Norwegian kings and rulers, written by Snorri Sturluson (great name, by the way) around AD 1230. It tells us that Rolf was the oldest legitimate son of Earl Ragnvald, best friend of King Harald Harfager (“Fair Hair” – a nickname given to him by the Earl due to Harald’s thick, fair hair), who was the first king of Norway, reigning from ca. AD 872 to 930. It tells us that Rolf was so hefty that no horse could carry his weight; thus, he had no choice but to walk everywhere, from which Ganger, his second name derives (I cannot find a direct translation of the meaning of the name, but Germanic languages have similar words: In German, “gehen” means go or walk; “gangart” means gait, or way of walking).

Harald Harfagre, First King of Norway – Statue in Haugusund, Norway

He was rowdy, even by Viking standards. Heimskringla records that he plundered most of the East Sea (likely referring to what is now the region around the Baltic Sea). Then, “One summer, as he was coming from the east on a Viking’s expedition to the coast of Viken*, he landed there and made a cattle foray. As King Harald happened, just at that time, to be in Viken, he heard of it, and was in a great rage; for he had forbid, by the greatest punishment, the plundering within the bounds of the country. The king assembled a Thing**, and had Rolf declared an outlaw over all Norway.”

*Viken was a region that lay over the modern border between Norway and Sweden.

**To assemble a Thing means to gather a council or general assembly. These still take place in some parts of Switzerland, as well as on the Isle of Man and in Scotland; the Icelandic Althing is considered the oldest active, surviving parliament in the world, dating back to the AD 900s. The first detailed description of such a Thing was made by Tacitus, a Roman historian and senator, in AD 98; the oldest reference to a Thing is inscribed on a stone near Hadrian’s Wall, dated as early as AD 43.

According to the Heimskringla, Rolf, now banished from Norway, headed toward the Hebrides, and from there to “Valland” [In Norse legend, Valland is the name of the part of Europe which is inhabited by Celtic and Romance peoples, and Snorri Sturluson mentions it several times as the Old Norse name for Gaul, which was a region of Western Europe first clearly described by the Romans, encompassing present-day France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, and Northern Italy, and covering an area of around 494,000 km2.].

Arriving in Gaul, he did what he did best – went a-Viking, plundering and pillaging and “subduing for himself a great earldom”. He populated it with his own best rabble of Norsemen, which the French called Normanz, literally “north men” which quickly led to the Anglicized term Normans (similar to the word for the people group and language, Norse).

One of the places known to have been invaded by the Vikings in AD 841 is the Jumièges Abbey, which is along the Seine River on its way to Rouen, which they also ransacked. At some point (around AD 885), Rolf also raided Bayeux, carrying off a woman, Popa (whose lineage is unverified – later historians for the duke may have sanitized her parentage to legitimize their son’s noble lineage, as she was married “more danico”). She gave birth to his heir, William Longsword. When Rolf and his gang were all done hacking their way through towns and villages along the Seine, they eventually made their way back to Rouen, where he established the Duchy of Normandy in AD 912.

So, how did Rolf cause a war centuries later? Well, his son, William Longsword, fathered a son, Richard the Fearless (who became ruler of Normandy at the age of 10 when his father died). Richard’s son was called Richard the Good, and he became the father of Robert the Magnificent and grandfather to the illegitimate William the Bastard, who became known as William the Conqueror (a sword seems to have cleared up his illegitimacy quite neatly) – from whom all the subsequent English kings descended. Now to the crux of the matter: William, descendent of Rolf Ganger, fathered English kings, who thus claimed their right to the Norman throne by connection, birth, rank… in short, any excuse for raiding was still in their blood. Rouen was one of the largest and most prosperous cities of medieval Europe, and (as mentioned in my last post) was made wealthy through textiles and trade along the Seine River and beyond. Rouen became the focal point of the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) because of that pesky connection. So now ya know!

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