Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Sunday, 27 April 2025

West Idioms

Several words have become part of the language in being used in phrases. Last time we looked at ‘ear’ and now look at ‘west’.

West Country, in referring to my favourite part of England in Devon and Cornwall, has been used since the late 14th century.


West Coast, as in that shore of the USA, is first seen in 1850.

West End (of London), known since 1776. West-Enders have been named such since 1833.

West Side, the part of Manhattan which gave a name to a famous musical, could not have been written before 1858 as that was the first year anyone recorded such.


Go west, as in dying, became popular during the First World War, but may have been in use for more than two thousand years. In 17th century London the phrase was used to mean ‘a hanging’, almost certainly a reference to Tyburn.

West Indies have been known since around 1650 – although West Indians is not seen until 1928.

Mae West, slang for a inflatable life jacket, is first found in 1940. It takes its name from a buxom film star of the same name, and you can work the connection out for yourself.


West Bank, the former Jordanian territory, has been known as such since 1967.

Westerns, as in films or books about the Old West in the US, is first seen in 1909.


Western omelettes, first recorded in 1922, contain ham and onions.


Nobody was westernized until 1837.

Westerly winds have been described since the 15th century.

Nothing is found for southwesterlies until 1833, although the sou’wester (protective nautical coat) is seen thjree years later.

Northwesterlies have been known since the 14th century.

Northwest Passage is found in a document since 1600.

Sunday, 11 June 2023

An Etymologist's look at Mayan Mythology.

Continuing on after my recent course on ancient languages, I thought it would be interesting to examine a selection of Mayan mythological figures and examine the etymologies for their names.

Acat is the Mayan god associated with tattooing, of all things, and a name which either describes a water reed or, if the pronunciation is 'ah-cat', then it would be 'He of the Storage Jar'. I do so hope it's the latter.


Awilix is the goddess of the moon, or the queen of the night, depending upon the source consulted. Similarly the name has two possible sources and two meanings, depending upon the language of origin: if the Nuahatal language of the Aztecs then this seems to be a place name; but if the Q'eqchi' Mayan language, then it represents the 'swallow' as in the bird.

Bacab is not one god but four. Tha Bacabs being the four associated with the interior of the world, the source of the soil and water deposits. The meaning of the name is uncertain, but what we do know is their names - Hobnil, Cantzicnal, Sacimi, and Hosanek - who held up the four points of the sky after escaping from the deluge which destroyed it. (Amazing how many ancient cultures have a story where the world was reset following a flood.)

Camazotz is a compound name, one formed from the K'iche' words kame meaning 'death' and sotz meaning 'bat', which is really good news as Camazotz is the god of death and bats.


Cizin has a name meaning 'stench', it is derived from the root ciz meaning 'flatulence'. As a Mayan god of death and earthquakes, and on a person's death he is said to burn their souls on his mouth and anus.

Gukumatz is derived from two K'iche' words q'uq the 'replendant quetzal' and kumatz 'snake'. This small Central American bird seems a rather odd choice for the head and wings end of a creature with a ophidian's body/tail.

Itzamna was original defined as 'lizard house, from the Yucatecan words itzam na. But latterly other suggestions have been put forward, including itz which covers several secretions such as sap, dew, and even semen, and also itzam meaning 'asperser, sorcerer'.


Jacawitz, the mountain god, probably gets his name from the Cholan languages where jacawitz means 'first mountain' (as in the first mountain of creation). That does make more sense than the alternative offering of Mam xq'aqwitz 'yellow wasp'.

Tepeu means 'sovereign' in the K'iche' language, and is one of the creation gods.

Yopaat, the Mayan storm god, gets his name from yop and aat which quite literally translates as 'leaf penis'.

Sunday, 13 March 2022

Dogs

As last time, when researching I do sometimes come across a piece which is possibly not intended to be amusing, but I found it so and for that reason I shall share it. This comes from the Birmingham Daily Post dated 7th November 1894.

The Essex coroner held an inquest on Monday night on the body of Mr James Cornwell, of Castle Hedingham, who was found with a gunshot wound in his head, lying in a ditch in the neighbourhood, on Saturday. Mr Cornwell left his home on Friday night to go to a neighbouring village. He had with him his gun, and was accompanied by a collie dog. As he did not return in the evening a search was made for him, and on the following day his lifeless body was found in a ditch near Long Crofts. The left barrel of the gun had been discharged, and there was a bramble between the triggers. The face was shattered by a gunshot. The collie was found watching by the side of its master, and refused to allow the body to be touched until Mrs Cornwell arrived. The jury returned a verdict of "Accidental death",

I have to say the actions of the dog after the body was found did make me wonder whether it had planted the evidence of the bramble, and refused to let anyone approach until it was sure the man was dead. But then if dogs were really that smart, owners would simply tell them to 'shit in this bag'.

Some may realise this is the same date as that of the killer cat story last time. It did make me wonder of if the editor of the Birmingham Daily Post had collected such tales (not tails) for a slow news week.

Sunday, 6 March 2022

Cats

Sometimes when researching I come across a piece which is possibly not intended to be amusing, but I found it so (possibly because of her surname) and for that reason I shall share it. This comes from the Birmingham Daily Post dated 7th November 1894.

Mr. Wynne E. Baxter held an enquiry in London, yesterday, respecting the death of Emma Kipper, aged fifty-eight, the wife of a carpenter. On the 10th of last month deceased crossed her room, when she trod on the tail of her cat, which turned round and bit her on the back of the leg. She said she felt the teeth go right to the bone. She became very ill, and was removed to the hospital, when it was found that there were wounds on the back of the left foot and a portion of the leg was gangrenous. The cause of death was infective spreading gangrene, the origin of which was possibly the bite of the cat. The jury returned a verdict of "Accidental death through the bite of a cat."

Sunday, 7 November 2021

That was not what I meant (M)

Minion certainly has gone through some changes in meaning.

Machine may refer to a mechanical device today, but before the seventeenth century was used in the sense of 'structure, fabric'.


Main was once used to mean 'of greatest size' rather than 'chief, leading' as it does today.

Manipulation is used to mean 'to control to one's own advantage', which is a much more general sense than the original eighteenth century meaning of handling chemical apparatus.

Manufacture today is accepted as a mechanical process, when the original sixteenth century use was 'made by hand'.

Martyr is, as we all know, one who dies for a cause, particularly a religious cause. But originally it was a person who chose to die, be it at their own hands or that of another.

Medley is a 'mix' today, but in the fourteenth century this word, releated to melee, meant 'combat, conflict'.

Menial is, today, a very negative word meaning 'lowly' or even 'degrading'. But when first seen in English in the fourteenth century it simply meant 'domestic'.

Mere as in 'in its simplest form', began in the fifteenth century as 'done alone'.

Merry began in Old English as myrge and was used to mean 'pleasant, agreeable' and is most famously used in antiquity as in Merry England, where the early use is much easier to understand.

Meticulous or 'very careful', is derived from a Latin root meaning 'fear' and came into use in English in the sense of 'timid'.

Mildew began in English as a word with the same meaning as 'honeydew', a substance excreted by aphids (or a quite delicious organic ale brewed by Fullers and most certainly my favourite tipple).


Minion, forget the little yellow things, the real definition is 'a servant, a petty official', but when it came to English from the French mignon, a word still meaning 'darling', it was used in the sense of 'lover' and particularly 'lady love'.


Minister has a similar complete reversal to 'minion', albeit the opposite bad to good. Today the church official, in the thirteenth century 'a servant'.

Misericord is that part of the seat in the choirstall on which the occupant may stand, but in the fourteenth century meant 'pitiful heart', by the eighteenth century spoke of 'mercy on us', and later eighteenth century 'mercy seat'.

Mistake today is any error, originally it was used in the very literal sense of 'to take wrongly'.

Mode means 'fashion, manner' today, but in the fourteenth century referred specifically to music in the 'tune or 'melody'.

Moist or 'damp' today, but in the fourteenth century could be used to mean 'new' or 'liquid' depending upon context.

Mortuary is where the deceased are stored, but in the fourteenth century it referred to the gift claimed by the clergyman from the estate of the dead person.


Muddle may mean 'confuse' today, but the fourteenth century use as 'wallow in mud' is still easily seen.

Must in Old English meant 'was able to' or 'permitted to', rather than the 'compulsory' sense today.

Sunday, 5 September 2021

That was not what I meant. (D)

Another group of words where the use has changed over the years. It still happens, for example 'smart' is more often used as a synonym for 'clever' rather than 'soreness'.

Danger, in thirteenth century England, this word referred to 'dominion, power of the master'. Later uses included 'difficult to deal with' and reluctant to comply' before the modern sense of 'liable to cause injury' came about from the fourteenth century.


Demise today is associated with death, yet in the sixteenth century it was a legal term meaning 'transfer of an estate'.

Devious is today used to describe someone who is less than trustworthy. Historically, it was used to mean 'out of the way' or perhaps 'remote', Then, from the sixteenth century, it came to be used in the sense of 'straying' or even 'erring'.

Dial is probably one of the easiest words in this list to understand, today referring to a clockface (archaically also used for tuning a radio), but in antiquity it was used for what we would today call a 'sundial'. Interesting to note that in the push button age, we still 'dial' a telephone number even though the dial is long defunct.


Disaster is from the Greek and means 'bad star', which was the original English usage, too.

Disease, like the previous word, features the prefix 'dis' as in 'bad' or 'ill'. Indeed, the latter is exactly how it was used at first in English, to be 'ill at ease', which is just how you might feel if you had a disease today.

Dismal might be a synonym for 'dreary' today, but when first used in English was, just as in the original Latin, 'bad days'.

Dissolve might refer to anything being soluble today (although one can also dissolve into tears), but historically was used to mean 'release from life'.

Divan has evolved to refer to a couch or more often a bed, but began as something quite different in 'a book of accounts'.


Doodle began in the seventeenth century, when it did not mean 'to draw absentmindedly' but described a 'fool' or 'simpleton'. It is derived from the Low German dudeltopf.

Drab may not be complimentary when it comes to clothing, but it did begin as a word referring to cloth, coming to English from the French drap.

Dutch describes anyone or anything from the Netherlands (also known as Holland), but began as an error in fourteenth century English when they were describing Netherlanders as Deutsch or 'German'.


Dwell now means 'reside, live', but was originally used in English to mean 'to go astray', almost the reverse.

Sunday, 1 August 2021

Suicide

Not until 1822 when the Church of England changed its mind were suicides allowed burial in consecrated ground. Even then it was only agreed as from the following year.

While burial was permitted, they were denied any ritual until 1880, and not allowed a Christian burial until February 2015 when the Church of England Synod voted, and by 262 to 5, in favour of lifting the restrictions - and mostly because most of the clergy had already chosen to ignore the ban anyway, this mostly due to a better understanding of mental health problems.

Originally the Church of England simply adopted the view of the earlier Catholic Church in England, where suicide was considered a sin. Prior to the development of Christianity, suicide was a common way to die. Personal suicide avoided shame or suffering, institutional suicide gave a way out for royal servants, convicted criminals, distraught widows, and as a form of euthanasia for the elderly or infirm.

Sunday, 20 June 2021

What on Earth (or Mars)?

I was looking at the names of our planet in languages other than English. It came as something of a disappointment to discover they were mostly translations of 'earth' in the sense of 'soil, dirt'.

So, I decided to look elsewhere in the heavens and see what names other languages had given to the remaining seven planets in orbit around our sun. Below is the language, its name and, where possible, the translation. Many nations simply use the same name, albeit with the phonetic spelling reflecting local pronunciation. As these clearly come from the same source as the English names, I have concentrated on the alternatives and this time the planet Mars.

MARS

Arabic - Merrikh - simply a translation of 'Mars'.

Babylonian - Neberu - translates as 'crossing' or 'point of transition'. It is also the name given by some to the mysterious tenth planet.

Bengali - Mangala - a Sanskrit name (see below)

Greek - Ares - has a name derived from ara meaning 'bane, ruin, curse, imprecation'.

Hebrew - maadim - 'that which reddens'

Japan - Kasei - is another translation of 'Mars'.

Korean - Hwaseong - 'star of fire'.

Malayalam - Chouvva - is the word for 'Tuesday'.

Mandarin Chinese - 'the fire planet'

Old Czech - Smrtonos - translates as 'death'

Sanskrit - Mangala - is the god of war and is celibate. Also known as Lohit, his name is the Sanskrit word for 'red'.

Sumerian - Nergal - the god of plague, famine, war and the underworld.

Note the spellings and characters used are English, so don't write to me pointing missing umlauts, accents, etc. or how I should have used a different alphabet.

Sunday, 14 March 2021

Level Crossing Tragedy

Saturday 3rd January 1885 and blacksmith Francis Clay, aged 62, left home for work at 6:30am. He walked with a stick and was decidedly deaf, both undoubtedly factors in what was to follow. This day, as many other days, he was touring the local farms for work to help support his wife Emma and their seven children, ranging from a babe in arms to a 17-year-old. One hour after least seeing her husband she received the news he was dead. He had been hit by a train at Hademore Crossing. The signalman gave evidence at the enquiry on Wednesday 7th saying he was to another signalman at 7am that morning, when the 6:20 from Stafford to Rugby passed at about 45mph. They heard a thump and went to investigate. Evidence was also given by a policeman. Together these witnesses painted a most gruesome picture.


The body appears to have been thrown against the crossing gates, the gate post taking most of the impact. They also found his toolbox, coming to rest some 60 yards down the line. The gates were locked, the wicket gate unlockable, although people would often cross after the gates were locked. Despite the dark mornings there was plenty of light to see by. His body was found on one side of the gate, flesh removed from one hand, his clothes thrown up over his face. The post was covered in blood and brains. When they uncovered the face they discovered part of the head was missing, this they found on the other side of the gate on the turnpike road. Before the inquest on the Wednesday, his wife had been allowed to wash all the blood from the post and around the scene. Such was the force of the body hitting the post, it had broken. It was common to cross on foot when gates were closed, usually under supervision from the signalmen(!), no whistle was noted but, once again(!), this was not unusual.

Sunday, 7 March 2021

Nagged to Death

Thursday 23rd May 1884 and John Hubbard, a labourer describes as ‘about 50’, of Lower Sandford Street is said to have attempted suicide. The previous evening his wife had accused him of being drunk, yet John was a renowned tee-totaller. A row ensued.


Next day he went to work as usual only to return to more accusations of drunkenness. It is said his wife went ‘out to the back’ – probably to use the privy – and on her return found him on the sofa, a razor in his hand and his throat cut. Upon which he told her “I’ve done it now, you won’t accuse me again”. Mr Welchman was sent for and he dressed the very deep and serious wound – he is not expected to live and, judging by the lack of further information, ceased to be newsworthy.

Sunday, 28 February 2021

Railway Accident

1881 – Tuesday 11th October 1881 and young Stephen Freemen, aged 11, of Frog Lane at 8:45am went to Lichfield City Station to get ‘a penn’orth of coal’. He crossed the line and passengers on the platform called out to him, warning him of a shunting engine moving trucks but he insisted on passing between the trucks. These were about a yard apart. He became trapped between the buffers, only damage visible being a graze the size of a crown piece on his left hip and while in obvious discomfort was quite lucid and conscious. He died at 3:30am the following morning of a ‘contusion’.


The coroner questioned if it was common for shunting trains to be dancing about here while passenger trains are leaving. When told it was usual but not common, he advised that such should be avoided as far as possible. Verdict: Accidental Death.

Sunday, 7 February 2021

Tuesday 31st March 1830 and the coach named the Standard was en route from London to Liverpool. Leaving Birmingham for Lichfield, the passengers soon became concerned for the coach either travelled at a slow trot or a gallop, without seeming due care and attention being paid to the road conditions or safety of the occupants.


As they descended the hill of New Allesley Road from the toll gate, their speed increased until they entered through the city gate at a gallop. Coming to Spon Lane and due to turn towards St John’s Church the driver lost control of the now wildly galloping horses and missed the turn. Attempting to make the turn at this speed he only succeeded in overturning the coach, it crashing on to its right side. Six passengers were travelling outside (at half price) and a single passenger within.


After the crash four passengers were taken to the house of Reverend W Grindon, one seemingly lifeless and put to bed as blood was coming from his right ear – he died at 4pm the following afternoon having spent the interim in sheer agony. A shoemaker from Birmingham named Henderson had a dislocated shoulder; a seafaring man named Steele had many contusions to his head and body – both men were taken to a nearby public house to await treatment. Captain Ingram of the West Indies Regiment was the sole passenger travelling inside the coach, he received a broken collarbone and taken to the Kings Head Inn. The other passengers were not greatly injured and resumed their journey. Both coachman and guard received minor injuries.

Monday, 30 July 2018

Bad Career Move

December 1864 and at the Glascote coalmine in Tamworth tragedy strikes. A former policeman, now working in the mine, is killed when a single lump of coal fell 450 feet and hit the poor man so hard it resulted in his death.

Sunday, 5 November 2017

Health and Safety

On Tuesday 23rd November 1858, Eli Meakin had been working on his father's farm at Whitgreave. Employed as a waggoner's boy, whilst driving the horses he is thought to have stepped over the horizontal shaft between them and the threshing machine. His action caused him to slip and he fell between the cog wheels. Subsequently found by a passer-by who, seeing the horses stopped and unsupervised, investigated and found the lad held quite firmly. The man released him but his chest injuries were appalling and he died shortly afterwards. Eli Meakin was just twelve years of age.

At the subsequent inquest the threshing machine was deemed to be dangerous for any driver, for the rods were secured in an improper position and the wheels unprotected. The owner of the farm promised the equipment would not be used again until the improvements had been made. Too late for young Eli whose demise was recorded as Accidental Death.

It seems unlikely the same verdict would be reached today. Further stories like this can be found in my Bloody British Histories: Stafford.

Sunday, 5 March 2017

Blooming Etymologies

With spring fast approaching here in the UK and, undoubtedly aided by a mild winter, the flowers associated with the season are already adding a splash of colour. Snowdrops have come and will soon be gone, crocus are putting on an excellent show, yellow daffodils are out or nearly so, and tulips will soon be flowering and looking past their best seemingly hours later.

As with all nouns, names of flowers were originally created in order to be recognised. Over the years these have been corrupted and changed beyond recognition, or named by science for reasons usually only they understand. Thus this time, as you may have guessed, a look at the origins of some flower names. Taken in alphabetical order we begin with .......

Agave is named from the Latin, itself from Greek Agaue, a proper name in Greek mythology. Her name, and thus that of the flower, is derived from the Greek meaning 'noble, illustrious' and thought to have been used by scientists to refer to the flower stem rather than the flower.

Alyssum certainly comes from another Latin loan word from the Greek, although just why alyssos describes the plant as 'curing madness' is not clear.

Amaryllis also has a Latin/Greek origin and comes from amaryssein meaning 'to twinkle, sparkle'.

Anemone is a Greek word meaning 'wind flower', literally 'daughter of the wind' and can be traced back to Proto-Indo-European animus, to breathe', with a feminine suffix.

Aster is named from the Latin and Greek for 'star', a refernece to the flower shape.

Azaleas like sandy soil and is named from the Greek azaleos 'dry'. Related words are found in Hittite hassa 'hearth' and Sanskrit asa 'ashes, dust'.

Begonias are named after the French governor of Santo Domingo and patron of botany Michael Begon (1638-1710).

Chrysanthemum comes from the Greek khrysanthemon literally meaning 'golden flower' and unites the elements anthemon 'a flower' and Proto-Indo-European andh 'bloom'.

Cowslip is named for it was thought to grow only on ground where cow dung could previously have been found.

Cyclamen comes from Latin/Greek where ultimately kyklos meant 'circle', a reference to the bulbous shape of the root.

Dahlia comes, as many will know, from Anders Dahl, the Swedish botanist who first found and identified it.

Delphinium is another of Latin/Greek origins. Here Greek staphis agria literally means 'wild raisin'.

Edelweiss, as Vince Hill will undoubtedly have told you, is from the Old High German edili weiss of 'noble white'.

Erica is a plant genus named from the Greek ereike 'heath'.

Forsythia, which just so happens to be showing the first signs of the yellow flower through the window, is named after Scottish horticulturalist William Forsyth (1737-1804). His family name is of Gaelic origin, Fearsithe meaning 'man of peace'.

Fuchsia comes from German botanist Leonard Fuchs (1501-1566) whose name means 'fox'. While the term 'fuchsia' has been taken for the red colouring of the same name, the idea of 'red' referring to the colouring of the fox is, to say the least, fanciful.

Geraniums are named from the Greek and Latin, where grus means 'crane' and refers to the seed pods resembling a bill of the crane, indeed the plant is still sometimes referred to as 'cranesbill'.

Gladiolus is Latin for 'small sword', a reference to its sword-shaped leaves.

Gypsophila comes from the Greek, where gypsos philein literally describes 'to love chalk'.

Hydrangea comes from the Greek hydor angeion meaning water vessel' and a reference to the seed pods.

Lavender came to English from French and ultimately from Latin, where lavare meant 'to wash' and a reminder the scent was used to wash and perfume fabrics.

Magnolias are named after the French physican and botanist Pierre Magnol (1638-1715).

Narcissus comes from the Greek narke 'numbness' and related to narcotic becuase of the sedative alkaloids obtained from the plant.

Orchids are the favourite flower of many because of their numerous forms and extraodinary colours and shapes. It is also my favourite flower, but for very different reasons. It came to English from Latin orchis and Greek orkhis meaning 'testicle' because of the shape of the root. Around 1300 it was known in England as the 'ballockwort', where 'ballock' is simply the diminutive of 'ball'.

Poinsettias are named after Joel Poinsett, the US ambassador to Mexico who is credited with bringing the plant to the attention of the rest of world - but this may be a load of orchids.

Rhododendron is the Greek for 'rose tree'.

Snapdragon flowers are said to resemble the mouth of a dragon - and also, since 1704, the name of a game where players pluck raisins from burning brandy and them eat them while still burning.

Tansy is a herb, its name from the French and ultimately the Greek athanasia 'immortality'., itself a a prefix meaning 'not' and thanatos 'death'. This may seem a strange meaning until we learn the plant has always had negative associations with pregnancy, either as a contraceptive or to bring about a miscarriage.

Tulips are my least favourite flower, the leaves begin to droop even before the flower emerges and the petals fall far too easily. It came to English through French and ultimately from Turkish tulbent 'a turban' as it is said to resemble such.

Wisteria was wrongly named after American anatomist Caspar Wistar (1761-1818), making it rather less of an honour.

Sunday, 4 December 2016

All Greek

I find it fascinating how letters from the Greek alphabet have become a part of everyday English. Regularly we hear about the 'alpha male', 'gamma rays', how we don't care 'one iota', and the last or ultimate having the added 'omega'. As ever I began wondering just how these names developed and why. Hence what follows is twenty-four explanations for the twenty-four letters of the Greek alphabet.

Alpha, in its modern sense of 'the first', dates from the early 17th century. It is taken directly from the Hebrew and/or Phoenician aleph (Greek does not permit the use of certain consonants at the end of words so they added the final 'a') and, in turn, from the Semitic group of languages where eleph literally meant 'ox'. It is thought this is due to the character representing the head of an ox.

Beta is another ultimately from the Hebrew/Phoenician where bayt meant 'house'. Just why the 'house' is seen in the letter is difficult to understand as a 'B' is possibly the most diverse of all letters and represented in very differing forms in a variety of scripts. Note the word has also found its way into Hindi and Urdu where it means 'royal son'.

Gamma comes from the Phoenician gimel meaning 'camel', as it is said to resemble some part of the animal, most likely the curve of the neck when at rest. However this is possibly quite fanciful and may represent the Egyptian hieroglyph depicting a club or throwing stick similar to a boomerang.

Delta is from the Phoenician daleth meaning 'tent door' and describing the triangular shape of the letter.

Epsilon represents the Greek e psilon, literally '-e and nothing else'. This unusual meaning is to distinguish this letter with the diphthong 'ai', both having come to be pronounced the same. The Greek word psilon was used to mean both 'smooth' and 'simple', the former originating in the Proto-Indo-European root bhes 'to rub'.

Zeta may be the sixth letter of the Greek alphabet but it is the basis for our modern Z. It is derived from the Hebrew zayin, literally meaning 'weapon' and likely a reference to its shape resembling a jagged edge.

Eta is derived from the Phoenician letter heth, itself ultimately from the hieroglyph for 'thread'.

Theta comes from the Hebrew teth, and used as Greek shorthand for thanatos on ballots to suggest a sentence of 'death'. It was pronounced as the modern 'th' and only being pronounced as the 'th' in 'Thomas' or 'thyme' when influenced by Latin and is derived from a Proto-Indo-European or Germanic rune. Just what that rune represented is unknown, although note this is the first letter originating in a sound rather than an image, this due to the comparatively late development.

Iota is used to mean 'a very small amount' and was indeed the smallest of the Greek letters. It may correspond to our ninth letter of the alphabet but written without the dot or 'tittle' - the latter from the Greek keraia or 'little horn'. The letter comes from the Semitic languages and the Proto-Semitic yad, itself from the Egyptian hieroglyph of an arm.

Kappa is from the Herbrew qoph and Phoenician qaph and originally described 'the hollow of the hand'.

Lambda comes from the Hebrew lamed and Arabic lam, in both cases appears as a prefix and used as a preposition meaning 'to' or 'for', depending on the context.

Mu is from the Semitic mem and ultimately from the Egyptian hieroglyph for 'water'.

Nu is from the Phoenician nun and ultimately from the Egyptian hieroglyph of a snake.

Xi is another from the Phoenician, here samekh's origins are unclear. Likely dating from the Middle Bronze Age and thus originally a hieroglyph, it could represent a tent peg or similar as the modern Hebrew equivalent means 'to support'.

Omicron comes from the Greek meaning 'small o' and derived from the Proto-Indo-European word smik or 'small' as this is a notably short vowel. As a letter it is derived from the Phoenician ayn or 'eye', itself taken from the Egyptian hieroglyph of an eye.

Pi is another of Phoenician origins, here Pe and comes from the pictogram of a mouth.

Rho is from the Phoenician resh, the pictogram of a head and related to Proto-Semitic ra and the Sumerian cuneiform sign for 'head'.

Sigma may be from an obsolete letter san, yet the most popular explanation is this is a Greek creation and simply means 'hissing'.

Tau is from the Phoenician taw and is from the Egyptian hieroglyph meaning 'mark'.

Upsilon is from the Phoenician waw and described its shape when meaning 'hook'.

Phi represents the sound as in 'ph', an aspirated 'p' and as the sound made by blowing through the lips is officially referred to as a 'bilabial spirant'.

Chi represents the sound 'ch' although is shaped like the letter 'x' which explains why this comes from the Greek khiastos or 'two things placed crosswise'. As among the simplest of symbols it is common to many ancient languages and although the origin is comparatively late here, should be expected in any or even every form of writing.

Psi is the penultimate letter of the Greek alphabet and has somewhat uncertain origins. It likely comes from a rune as it has been adopted in several different written forms including Cyrillic where psy means 'dogs'.

Omega was a late addition to the Greek alphabet, not seen until around 2,800 years ago. It is related to omicron and means 'great o' - literally 'o - mega'. Much as the 'x' symbol would be common to many languages so would the circle which is 'o'. The difference is in the short form of 'o' being used in the first part of 'lotto' while the longer version is found at the end.

Hence the Greek alphabet could be said to be: ox, house, camel, tent door, simple, weapon, thread, death, arm, hollow of the hand, for, water, snake, tent peg, eye, mouth, head, hissing, mark, hook, blowing through the lips, two things placed crosswise, dogs, circle.

Sunday, 17 January 2016

Comoros Place Names Explained

Having blogged samples of my books on English place names and also examined the etymologies of the nations of the world and their respective capitals I thought it time to cast my net a little wider. This time the Comoros and a look at some of its place names and starting with the capital.

Moroni is, in the local Comorian tongue, ‘in the heart of the fire’ and refers to its location at the foot of the active volcano mount Karthala.

Mayotte is a French corruption of the original name of Maore or the Arabic Mawuti, this speaking of ‘the island of death’ – Comorian, French and Arabic remain the official languages.

Comoros is from the Arabic meaning ‘moon’.

Note the spellings of the places are English as the piece is written in English.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

Quiz Question

A little break from place names and a look at a controversial subject - hanging. At a quiz I'd heard the question "When was hanging abolished in the UK?" to which the answer was said to "It hasn't, it is still possible to be hanged for treason." Having sat in the quiz master's chair years ago I didn't argue the point, it's a tough enough job, but felt fairly certain it had been abolished before the end of the 20th century in the UK. Hence I did a little research.

One of the first 'facts' to come to light was how, at the beginning of the 19th century, there were no fewer than 222 capital crimes. While perfectly true this does not give a clear picture. Further back in history we find there were just 50 offences carrying the death penalty in 1688, the massive increase retrospectively seen as an attempt by the 'haves' to protect what they had from the 'have-nots'. A contemporary wrote of how "Men are not hanged for stealing horses, but that horses may not be stolen." This also explains some of what we would see as ludicrously severe punishments for crimes which today would probably not even incur as much as a caution.

Before condemning these times, it should also be noted that while 35,000 death sentences were handed down between 1770 and 1830, only 7,000 actually reached the gallows, the remainder having their sentence commuted, most often to transportation. Many of these trials on record clearly show the courts have deliberately under-valued the value of stolen goods in order to avoid a mandatory death sentence. There were also a number of reasons where the guilty to be considered unsuitable for the gallows and listed as "benefit of clergy, official pardons, pregnancy, performance of military or naval duty" and subject to what can best be described as 'creative interpretation'. Furthermore note that by the middle of the 18th century this had been reduced to just five.

During my research of my book Bloody British Histories: Stafford, I came across one of the most notorious murderers, William Palmer, the so-called Rugeley Poisoner, and also the sad story of Christina Collins. Both crimes ended in three men being sentenced to death by hanging, in both cases they were found guilty of killing another human being and many will still argue today this is a fitting punishment - while at least as many will argue against.

To answer the quiz question hanging officially ended in Britain on 27th of January 1999, although nobody will have been sentenced to such for the last three decades. Yet since the Saxons introduced hanging as a punishment in the 5th century a number of odd 'crimes' have incurred the death penalty, an (incomplete) list follows.

Murder (officially removed in 1969).
High treason (until 1999).
Capital murder (defined as murder committed in the course of theft; murder by shooting or explosion; murder while resisting arrest or during a prison escape; murder of a police or prison officer; two murders committed on different occasions - I have to say the latter seems pointless as one murder (see above) already carried the death penalty).
Attempted murder.
Petty treason.
Rape.
Arson in a naval dockyard (until 1971).
Espionage (until 1981).
Piracy (until 1981).
Sodomy.
Buggery.
Witchcraft.
Highway robbery.
Embezzling a master's goods.
Robbing churches.
Robbing a person in a dwelling house.
Rioting which caused serious damage to a church, house, barn or stable.
Shooting at someone.
Cutting someone.
Maiming someone.
Counterfeiting coin.
Forgery.
Arson of a dwelling house or of a barn with corn.
Shoplifting.
Picking pockets.
Stealing sheep, cattle, or horses.
Grand larceny (defined as the theft of anything valued at at least 12 pence, remember this was pre-decimalisation and equal to the modern 5p).
Destroying a turnpike.
Stealing from a rabbit warren.
Damaging forests and parks.
Cutting down an orchard.
To lie in wait with intent to put out an eye, disable a tongue or slit the nose (very specific and a result of Sir John Coventry having his nose slit by an assailant in Covcent Garden).
Being in the company of gypsies for one month.
Strong evidence of malice in a child aged 7–14 years of age (makes you wonder how any every survived long enough into adulthood to enact the law).
Blacking the face or using a disguise whilst committing a crime (a result of bands of poachers doing so following the South Sea Bubble collapse).
Sacrilege
Letter stealing
Returning from transportation (presumably without permission) although records show only 5% ever returned (again presumably after they had completed their sentence).
Stealing from a shipwreck.
A sailor or soldier begging without a licence.
Damaging Westminster Bridge.
Impersonating a Chelsea Pensioner.
Strong evidence of malice in children between 7 and 14 years (amazes me that any survived long enough into adulthood to bring in the law).
Writing a threatening letter.

This list is not intended to be in any order of ascending or descending severity.