Synonym Etymologies G

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter G and gas. This I found a little more difficult as there are dozens of synonyms for 'gas' but this is because 'gas' has so many uses - but, as ever, I will give it a try. In the most basic sense it is a state of matter (along with solid and liquid). It is first used in English around the middle of the 17th century and taken from the Dutch. This, in turn, came from the Greek khaos which did not mean 'chaos' but 'empty space'.

Excellent or exciting (it's a gas) was first used in 1953, derived from the earlier hipster term 'gasser' and with the same meaning. But there is a rather earlier use of the term, albeit in the phrase 'everything is gas and goiters' by none other than Charles Dickens in 1839. Note, as I've said so many times, just because a word first appears in print with a certain meaning on a certain date, it does not mean it is the first use of same - indeed, it is safe to assume the vast majority of apparently 'new' words were already in use before they appeared in print, otherwise the reader would likely not have a clue what the writer was talking about. And, let's face it, that would be quite diabelisimilitudinal.

The American use of 'gas' as a shortened form of 'gasoline', first used in the USA in 1864 and itself first used as 'gasolene' in Britain the year earlier. It may come as a surprise to learn it began as a trade name, the fuel burning as a vapour, with the addition of -ol- to denote 'oil' and -ine as a chemical suffix.

Petrol, as the British would know it, is a shortened form of 'petroleum' which, once again, uses 'the -ol- or 'oil' with a perceived chemical suffix -eum. The first element shows it was extracted from rock, for it uses the Latin petra 'rock'.

Vapour, having already mentioned the word and it also once being used in the sense of 'gasses', comes from Old French where it was used to mean 'moisture' as much as 'vapour'. Note the idea of 'the vapours', used from the middle of the 17th century and a reference to anything from fainting to hysteria to fitting, was the then idea it came from exhalations from internal organs of the torso which would be affecting the brain.

Air and, having got away from the gasseous meaning, come back to the original sense. It came to English from Old French air and Latin aer, both with the same meaning, and Greek aer which more often spoke of 'mist, haze, clouds' and later 'atmosphere'. It seems the word originated in Proto-Indo-European aeirein which was used to mean 'raise' and also 'windpipe' and a third meaning of 'artery'. Indeed, this last meaning has also given us the name of the body's major artery the 'aorta'.

Atmosphere seems to be the next logical step, an obviously Greek origin where atmos spoke of 'steam, vapour' and sphaira or 'sphere' combine to describe what the Greeks saw as the contaminated part of the lower part of the air as opposed to the pure and untainted upper air where the gods resided.

Talk is another sense for 'gas', albeit in a negative and slang sense meaning 'empty talk'. It is first seen in print in 1847 and is likely the reason it became used to mean 'joke, funny' as it was by James Joyce in 1917.

Babble is, like many words which describe language difficult to comprehend, imitative of whatever they reference - in this case it is baby talk. Other words which similarly ridicule the speaker are: 'gobbledegook' or imitative of a turkey; 'cuckoo' another suggesting a person is bird-brained; 'jargon' is derived from a phrase meaning 'to twitter like birds'; 'barbarous' tells us they are 'non-Greek speakers' (how atrocious); and 'bafflegab', probably the best of the lot and one which should be brought back into general use.

Wind, which comes from the Proto-Indo-European root we 'to blow', is listed here as it is also used as a slighter more polite term for 'gas' as used to refer to air trapped and/or released by the body. Most often, at least in Britain, it describes air trapped in the upper digestive tract - dyspepsia is another term - and thus rather badly named as the discomfort caused in down to trapped air and thus not moving (or windy) in the usual sense. Research revealed the word 'wind' had been used to rhyme with 'hind, rind, behind' until as recently as the 18th century. Even I, who is known for not appreciating poetry, sympathise with poets (the real poets, the rhyming ones) as it severely limits potential rhymes.

Heartburn and, having mentioned dyspepsia/indigestion, clearly confuses the associated pain/discomfort with a cardiac problem. Yet that has only been the case since the 15th century, prior to that the term was used to describe 'anger' or 'bitterness' (1400) and to refer to 'lust' (13th century).

Fart, and if I omit this four-letter offering I'll only be deluged by emails again (thankfully not from Mrs Trellis), has gone almost unchanged since language has been recorded and has never meant anything else. Interestingly, if farting could ever be classified as interesting, until at least the Middle Ages there was also the term 'clatterer' which described one known for their 'clatterfarts', which is an onomatopaeic word refers specifically to audible farts, tending to suggest that other farts around this time were silent farts.

Iceland 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 I cast my net a little wider. As English place names share some links to other tongues it would be interesting to see if any of the elements contributing to our place names could be found elsewhere. Continuing an alphabetical tour of the world and a look at the largest Icelandic places.

Reykjavik is the Icelandic for 'smoke cove' and refers to the steam from hot springs synonymous with the island.

Kopavogur translates as 'seal pup inlet' and a seal pup can be found on the town's coat of arms.

Hafnarfjordur means simply 'harbour fjord'.

Keflavik describes itself as 'driftwood bay'.

Selfoss is an oddity as the suffix is Iceland for 'waterfall' and yet there are no waterfalls to be found here today.

Isafjord can still be seen as 'ice fjord'.

Saudarkrokur takes its name from the small river running through here, this the Sauda. The name refers to where it hits the coast and means 'hook of the sheep river'.

Egilsstadir has hardly changed since it was first known as Egilsstadir's farmstead'.

Husavik is held to be the first place ever settled in Iceland, this by Gardar Svavarsson around 870. When he left, Gardar's farmstead consisted of a man named Nattfari and a male and female slave. As the only signs of human habitation on the island, it is easy to see why the name meant 'bay of houses'.

Hofn is an Icelandic word meaning simply 'harbour'.

Thorlakshofn is named after Saint Thorlak who was bishop here and thus the name means 'Thorlak's harbour'.

Gardur refers to this as 'garden'.

Neskaupstadur refers to itself as 'the headland (or ness) of Egill the red'..

Dalvik can be translated to 'valley bay'.

Stykkisholmur takes its name from the small island at the mouth of the harbour describing 'the piece of dry land'.

Hvolsvollur translates as 'hill field'.

Hella comes from the caves near the river, where Irish monks lived in the first settlement.

Patreksfjordur is further evidence of Irish influence for it means 'Patrick's fjord'.

Vopnafjordur translates as 'weapon bay', itself named from a nickname of one of the early settlers, Eyvindur vopni.

Note the majority of Icelandic names were coined to be recognisable from the sea, not the land. Just as the names of Greenland were in my earlier post.

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

Train Crash

August 8th 1861 and near the canal bridge at Slade Heath the driver of a locomotive shut off steam as they approached Four Ashes. As they slowed the driver felt his engine riding roughly and thought they had broken an axle. Moments later the engine and tender left the track and came down the embankment, bringing with it tons of earth which buried stoker Richard Barnwell to the waist. Luckily the engine, which toppled over on to its right side, missed him by inches. Furthermore, another miraculous stroke of luck saw driver James Harrison thrown clear of the footplate and the remainder of the train, the coaches and passengers, remained on the line.

The driver went to retrieve the lamp and sent two men, including coroner Mr Collins, ahead to stop the mail train from Scotland at the station and prevent a crash. Meanwhile he and men from Standeford Mill, who had come to offer assistance, set about releasing the trapped stoker and convey him quickly to the infirmary. His injuries were severe and both legs had to be amputated, he had been scalded, with bruising and lacerations. Three weeks later, while seemingly on the road to recovery, he died.

At the subsequent inquest the coroner heard how two large pieces of timber, over twelve feet in length and three feet wide, showed wheel marks and splintering and revealed they were the cause of the crash. Evidence from the railway company told how this timber had been part of a load coming from Wolverhampton earlier that afternoon. As usual, they had been tied to the truck with an empty truck behind to catch any which worked loose.

The coroner suggested such practice was completely inadequate and an urgent review necessary.

Stand Back from the Platform Edge

April 13th 1857, and nearby the clock shows 6pm. Returning to the station yard, and his job in managing the engine shed, is 42-year-old William McCabe. Having gone home a couple of hours earlier for his tea at his home in Newton, he walked coming along the siding before encountering a shunting engine and thus crossing the up line to the engine shed on the opposite side.

Some twenty years earlier McCabe had lost his leg in an accident when it was crushed by a wagon on the Manchester to Liverpool line. Because of this he wore a wooden leg and no longer worked on the engines but employed in the 'stationary job' in the engine shed. Whether it was the shunter that distracted him, or perhaps the difficulty negotiating the lines with a wooden leg, likely both, but he did not take notice of the warning whistle and shout from Thomas Pattison, the driver of the shunting engine warning of the engine approaching him from behind on the main line. Seconds later he was dead.

Coming along the up line in reverse, tender first, the locomotive travelling at 6mph was but 10 or 12 yards away from McCabe when the shout went up. Hit by the buffer he fell, with his head across the rail. The wheels pushed him along for a short distance before severing his head completely. The first person to reach the body was the driver from another nearby shunter - this man was none other than William McCabe's eldest son.

The body was quickly removed to the Vine Inn, Newton where the inquest was held the next day. A verdict of accidental death was recorded. William McCabe left a widow and six children.

Beeching 50 Years On

March 2013 marks fifty years since the Beeching Axe fell upon the nation’s railway system. The recommendations made by the infamous report were greeted with horror and indignation then and the furore is rekindled simply at the mention of Beeching’s name.

Dr Richard Beeching was a businessman; he had no connection with the railways. Thus any decisions that were made were based solely upon the logic of profit margins, efficiency and reinvestment, never to be swayed by sentiment. Yet still his name is remembered in an almost Quisling-esque light as the man who decimated the railways. Even British situation comedy used his infamy: thirty years after its publication, writers David Croft and Richard Spendlove, in conjunction with the BBC, produced twenty episodes in a series entitled Oh, Doctor Beeching!

Five decades have passed and, with hindsight, we now see that the report did more than any other factor to preserve the nation’s railway heritage. Without it the buildings, disused lines, locomotives, rolling stock, signalling systems and signs would simply have been removed and tucked into a corner to be forgotten, or even rotted away.

In this book we shall look at the positive effects the report has had, not on the railways themselves – that has been done many times – but on the opportunities which would never have arisen otherwise. We shall look at the gentle gradients of old lines, perfect for walkers and cyclists alike. Buildings, no longer used as stations and sheds, are now private residences, small businesses, holiday homes and public meeting places.

Memorabilia, often described as railwayana, which would otherwise have rusted away, now command prices at collectors’ auctions which would astound those who lovingly painted and polished them. And, of course, we shall look at the heritage railways which attract many thousands each year. They not only allow volunteers to enjoy railways at a level they could otherwise never have imagined, they have also provided employment for others as engineers, station staff, and so on.

Maybe by the end of the book Dr Beeching will be seen in a slightly different light by the reader: not as the saviour of Britain’s railways, but as someone whose name should be associated with a whole new area of leisure for all and indeed pleasure for those who can swap 00 gauge for 4ft 8in (1.44m).

As part of the launch The History Press will be at the West Somerset Railway Spring Gala 2013 between Friday 22nd and Sunday 24th March at the Railway Literary Festival.

As usual I would welcome any suggestions for themes or subjects, or even specific words to examine the origins, meanings and etymologies. I’d be delighted to hear from you.

Doctor Richard Beeching

My latest book, released this week, is a little different for me. March sees the 50th anniversary of the infamous report of the reshaping of the railways of Britain, most often referred to as the Beeching Axe. In truth there are a couple of others released on the same subject but they ostensibly deal with the report, the man, and the impact on railway transport in this country ever since. My book is somewhat different as it looks at what happened to the parts which closed. Hence my book looks at what happened in that half century following closure and asks the question – is he justifiably one of the most loathed individuals in recent British history?

Beeching 50 Years On is published by The History Press.

I would be delighted to hear from anyone who has purchased or would like to purchase a copy. As always I also welcome any suggestions for themes or subjects, or even specific words to examine the origins, meanings and etymologies.

The Etymology of the Most Famous Steam Locomotives in History

Flying Scotsman was named such for it was chosen to haul the non-stop London to Edinburgh run. Indeed the engine was at the head of the inaugural service on May 1st 1928.

Golden Arrow is the train as much as the engine. It refers to the express service between London and the ferry to Europe from Dover, where the engine pulling it would be emblazoned with a diagonal golden arrow on the front, which copies the symbol shown on advertising posters, effectively showing the southeast direction taken to reach the boats.

The London and North Eastern Railway Class A4 4-6-2 Pacific serial number 1870 was built at Doncaster in 1938 and, as any railway enthusiast will be aware, was named Mallard. It was in service until 1963 during which time the 165 ton locomotive covered almost two and a half million miles.

The distinctive shape and garter blue with red wjeels and rims mark Mallard out as a special engine. Sir Nigel Gresley designed and built this A4, which was later tested in a wind tunnel to prove its streamlining. Made to exceed a sustained speed of over 100mph on a regular basis, it was the night of 3rd July 1938 when this vehicle ensured a permanent place in the record books. On a slight downslope south of Grantham the engine reached a speed of 125.88mph, a world record speed for a steam engine which will undoubtedly never be broken.

Sir Nigel Gresley takes the name of arguably the most famous of steam locomotive engineers who worked for the London and North Eastern Railway. His designs were marked by their elegance, both aesthetically and mechanically and many of the best known engines in British history can be attributed to him.

City of Truro was built at Swindon in 1903 and most often cited as the first steam locomotive to exceed a speed of one hundred miles per hour. This happened in May 1904 when hauling the Ocean Mails special from Plymouth to London Paddington. This was one of ten City Class engines built at the Great Western Railway works at Swindon and named after cities on the GWR routes.

I would welcome any suggestions for themes or subjects, or even specific words to examine the origins, meanings and etymologies. I’d be delighted to hear from you.