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The American Language

H. L. Mencken

The names of the second class we have already briefly observed. They are betrayed in many cases by the prefix /New/; more than 600 such postoffices are recorded, ranging from /New Albany/ to /New Windsor/. Others bear such prefixes as /West/, /North/ and /South/, or various distinguishing affixes, /e. g./, /Bostonia/, /Pittsburgh Landing/, /Yorktown/ and /Hartford City/. One often finds eastern county names applied to western towns and eastern town names applied to western rivers and mountains. Thus, /Cambria/, which is the name of a county but not of a postoffice in Pennsylvania, is a town name in seven western states; /Baltimore/ is the name of a glacier in Alaska, and /Princeton/ is the name of a peak in Colorado. In the same way the names of the more easterly states often reappear in the west, /e. g./, in /Mount Ohio/, Colo., /Delaware/, Okla., and /Virginia City/, Nev. The tendency to name small American towns after the great capitals of antiquity has excited the derision of the English since the earliest days; there is scarcely an English book upon the states without some fling at it. Of late it has fallen into abeyance, though sixteen /Athenses/ still remain, and there are yet many /Carthages/, /Uticas/, /Syracuses/, /Romes/, /Alexandrias/, /Ninevahs/ and /Troys/. The third city of the nation, /Philadelphia/, got its name from the ancient stronghold of Philadelphus of Pergamun. To make up for the falling off of this old and flamboyant custom, the more recent immigrants have brought with them the names of the capitals and other great cities of their fatherlands. Thus the American map bristles with /Berlins/, /Bremens/, /Hamburgs/, /Warsaws/ and /Leipzigs/, and is beginning to show /Stockholms/, /Venices/, /Belgrades/ and /Christianias/. The influence of Indian names upon American nomenclature is quickly shown by a glance at the map. No less than 26 of the states have names borrowed from the aborigines, and the same thing is true of most of our rivers and mountains. There was an effort, at one time, to get rid of these Indian names. Thus [Pg290] the early Virginians changed the name of the /Powhatan/ to the /James/, and the first settlers in New York changed the name of /Horicon/ to /Lake George/. In the same way the present name of the /White Mountains/ displaced /Agiochook/, and /New Amsterdam/, and later /New York/, displaced /Manhattan/, which has been recently revived. The law of Hobson-Jobson made changes in other Indian names, sometimes complete and sometimes only partial. Thus, /Mauwauwaming/ became /Wyoming/, /Maucwachoong/ became /Mauch Chunk/, /Ouabache/ became /Wabash/, /Asingsing/ became /Sing-Sing/, and /Machihiganing/ became /Michigan/. But this vandalism did not go far enough to take away the brilliant color of the aboriginal nomenclature. The second city of the United States bears an Indian name, and so do the largest American river, and the greatest American water-fall, and four of the five great Lakes, and the scene of the most important military decision ever reached on American soil. The Dutch place-names of the United States are chiefly confined to the vicinity of New York, and a good many of them have become greatly corrupted. /Brooklyn/, /Wallabout/ and /Gramercy/ offer examples. The first-named was originally /Breuckelen/, the second was /Waale Bobht/, and the third was /De Kromme Zee/. /Hell-Gate/ is a crude translation of the Dutch /Helle-Gat/. During the early part of the last century the more delicate New Yorkers transformed the term into /Hurlgate/, but the change was vigorously opposed by Washington Irving, and so /Hell-Gate/ was revived. The law of Hobson-Jobson early converted the Dutch /hoek/ into /hook/, and it survives in various place-names, /e. g./, /Kinderhook/ and /Sandy Hook/. The Dutch /kill/ is a /Grundwort/ in many other names, /e. g./, /Catskill/, /Schuylkill/, /Peekskill/, /Fishkill/ and /Kill van Kull/; it is the equivalent of the American /creek/. Many other Dutch place-names will come familiarly to mind: /Harlem/, /Staten/, /Flushing/, /Cortlandt/, /Calver Plaat/, /Nassau/, /Coenties/, /Spuyten Duyvel/, /Yonkers/, /Hoboken/ and /Bowery/ (from /Bouvery/).[40] /Block/ Island was originally /Blok/, and Cape /May/, according to Schele de Vere, was /Mey/, both Dutch. [Pg291] A large number of New York street and neighborhood names come down from Knickerbocker days, often greatly changed in pronunciation. /Desbrosses/ offers an example. The Dutch called it /de Broose/, but in New York today it is commonly spoken of as /Dez-bros-sez/. French place-names have suffered almost as severely. Few persons would recognize /Smackover/, the name of a small town in Arkansas, as French, and yet in its original form it was /Chemin Couvert/. Schele de Vere, in 1871, recorded the degeneration of the name to /Smack Cover/; the Postoffice, always eager to shorten and simplify names, has since made one word of it and got rid of the redundant /c/. In the same way /Bob Ruly/, a Missouri name, descends from /Bois Brulé/. "The American tongue," says W. W. Crane, "seems to lend itself reluctantly to the words of alien languages."[41] This is shown plainly by the history of French place-names among us. A large number of them, /e. g./, /Lac Superieur/, were translated into English at an early day, and most of those that remain are now pronounced as if they were English. Thus /Des Moines/ is /dee-moyns/, /Terre Haute/ is /terry-hut/, /Beaufort/ is /byu-fort/, /New Orleans/ is /or-leens/, /Lafayette/ has a flat /a/, /Havre de Grace/ has another, and /Versailles/ is /ver-sales/. The pronunciation of /sault/, as in /Sault Ste. Marie/, is commonly more or less correct; the Minneapolis, St. Paul and Sault Ste. Marie Railroad is popularly called the /Soo/. This may be due to Canadian example, or to some confusion between /Sault/ and /Sioux/. The French /Louis/, in /St. Louis/ and /Louisville/, is usually pronounced correctly. So is the /rouge/ in /Baton Rouge/, though the /baton/ is commonly boggled. It is possible that familiarity with /St. Louis/ influenced the local pronunciation of /Illinois/, which is /Illinoy/, but this may be a mere attempt to improve upon the vulgar /Illin-i/.[42] For a number of years the Geographic Board has been seeking [Pg292] vainly to reestablish the correct pronunciation of the name of the /Purgatoire/ river in Colorado. Originally named the /Rio de las Animas/ by the Spaniards, it was renamed the /Rivière du Purgatoire/ by their French successors. The American pioneers changed this to /Picketwire/, and that remains the local name of the stream to this day, despite the effort of the Geographic Board to compromise on /Purgatoire/ river. Many other French names are being anglicized with its aid and consent. Already half a dozen /Bellevues/ have been changed to /Belleviews/ and /Bellviews/, and the spelling of nearly all the /Belvédères/ has been changed to /Belvidere/. /Belair/, La., represents the end-product of a process of decay which began with /Belle Aire/, and then proceeded to /Bellaire/ and /Bellair/. All these forms are still to be found, together with /Bel Air/. The Geographic Board's antipathy to accented letters and to names of more than one word[43] has converted /Isle Ste. Thérèse/, in the St. Lawrence river, to /Isle Ste. Therese/, a truly abominable barbarism, and /La Cygne/, in Kansas, to /Lacygne/, which is even worse. /Lamoine/, /Labelle/, /Lagrange/ and /Lamonte/ are among its other improvements; /Lafayette/, for /La Fayette/, long antedates the beginning of its labors. The Spanish names of the Southwest are undergoing a like process of corruption, though without official aid. /San Antonio/ has been changed to /San Antone/ in popular pronunciation and seems likely to go to /San Tone/; /El Paso/ has acquired a flat American /a/ and a /z/-sound in place of the Spanish /s/; /Los Angeles/ presents such difficulties that no two of its inhabitants agree upon the proper pronunciation, and many compromise on simple /Los/, as the folks of /Jacksonville/ commonly call their town /Jax/. Some of the most mellifluous of American place-names are in the areas once held by the Spaniards. It would be hard to match the beauty of /Santa Margarita/, /San Anselmo/, /Alamogordo/, /Terra Amarilla/, /Sabinoso/, /Las Palomas/, /Ensenada/, /Nogales/, /San Patricio/ and /Bernalillo/. But they are under a severe and double assault. Not only do the present lords of the soil debase them in speaking them; in many cases they are formally displaced by native names of the utmost harshness and banality. Thus, [Pg293] one finds in New Mexico such absurdly-named towns as /Sugarite/, /Shoemaker/, /Newhope/, /Lordsburg/, /Eastview/ and /Central/; in Arizona such places as /Old Glory/, /Springerville/, /Wickenburg/ and /Congress Junction/, and even in California such abominations as /Oakhurst/, /Ben Hur/, /Drytown/, /Skidoo/, /Susanville/, /Uno/ and /Ono/. The early Spaniards were prodigal with place-names testifying to their piety, but these names, in the overwhelming main, were those of saints. Add /Salvador/, /Trinidad/ and /Concepcion/, and their repertoire is almost exhausted. If they ever named a town /Jesus/ the name has been obliterated by Anglo-Saxon prudery; even their use of the name as a personal appellation violates American notions of the fitting. The names of the Jewish patriarchs and those of the holy places in Palestine do not appear among their place-names; their Christianity seems to have been exclusively of the New Testament. But the Americans who displaced them were intimately familiar with both books of the Bible, and one finds copious proofs of it on the map of the United States. There are no less than seven /Bethlehems/ in the Postal Guide, and the name is also applied to various mountains, and to one of the reaches of the Ohio river. I find thirteen /Bethanys/, seventeen /Bethels/, eleven /Beulahs/, nine /Canaans/, eleven /Jordans/ and twenty-one /Sharons/. /Adam/ is sponsor for a town in West Virginia and an island in the Chesapeake, and /Eve/ for a village in Kentucky. There are five postoffices named /Aaron/, two named /Abraham/, two named /Job/, and a town and a lake named /Moses/. Most of the /St. Pauls/ and /St. Josephs/ of the country were inherited from the French, but the two /St. Patricks/ show a later influence. Eight /Wesleys/ and /Wesleyvilles/, eight /Asburys/ and twelve names embodying /Luther/ indicate the general theological trend of the plain people. There is a village in Maryland, too small to have a postoffice, named /Gott/, and I find /Gotts Island/ in Maine and /Gottville/ in California, but no doubt these were named after German settlers of that awful name, and not after the Lord God directly. There are four /Trinities/, to say nothing of the inherited Spanish /Trinidads/. [Pg294] Names wholly or partly descriptive of localities are very numerous throughout the country, and among the /Grundwörter/ embodied in them are terms highly characteristic of America and almost unknown to the English vocabulary. /Bald Knob/ would puzzle an Englishman, but the name is so common in the United States that the Geographic Board has had to take measures against it. Others of that sort are /Council Bluffs/, /Patapsco Neck/, /Delaware Water Gap/, /Curtis Creek/, /Walden Pond/, /Sandy Hook/, /Key West/, /Bull Run/, /Portage/, /French Lick/, /Jones Gulch/, /Watkins Gully/, /Cedar Bayou/, /Keams Canyon/, /Parker Notch/, /Sucker Branch/, /Fraziers Bottom/ and /Eagle Pass/. /Butte Creek/, in /Montana/, is a name made up of two Americanisms. There are thirty-five postoffices whose names embody the word /prairie/, several of them, /e. g./, /Prairie du Chien/, Wis., inherited from the French. There are seven /Divides/, eight /Buttes/,