American Language (104 page)

There was a time, particularly during the gold rush to California, when the rough humor of the country showed itself in the invention of extravagant and often highly felicitous place-names, but with the growth of population and the rise of civic spirit they have tended to be replaced by more seemly coinages.
Catfish
creek, in Wisconsin, is now the
Yakara
river; the
Bulldog
mountains, in Arizona, have become the
Harosomas
. As with natural features of the landscape, so with towns. Nearly all the old
Boozevilles, Jackass Flats, Three Fingers, Hell-For-Sartains, Undershirt Hills, Razzle-Dazzles, Cow-Tails, Yellow Dogs, Jim-Jamses, Jump-Offs, Poker Citys
and
Skunk-towns
have yielded to the growth of delicacy, but
Tombstone
still stands in Arizona,
Goose Bill
remains a postoffice in Montana, and the Geographic Board gives its imprimatur to the
Horsethief
trail in Colorado, to
Burning Bear
in the same State, and to
Pig Eye
lake in Minnesota. Various other survivors of a more lively and innocent day linger on the map:
Blue Ball
, Pa.,
Hot Coffee
, Miss.,
Cowhide
, W. Va.,
Dollarville
, Mich.,
Oven Fork
, Ky.,
Social Circle
, Ga.,
Sleepy Eye
, Minn.,
Bubble
, Ark.,
Shy Beaver
, Pa.,
Shin Pond
, Me.,
Gizzard
, Tenn.,
Rough-and-Ready
, Calif.,
Non Intervention
, Va.,
T.B.
, Md.,
Noodle
, Tex.,
Vinegar Bend
, Ala.,
Matrimony
, N. C.,
Wham
, La.,
Number Four
, N. Y.,
Oblong
, Ill.,
Stock Yards
, Neb.,
Stout
, Iowa, and so on.
¹⁵⁵
West Virginia, the wildest of the Eastern States, is full of such place-names. Among them I find
Affinity, Annamoriah
(
Anna Maria?
)
, Bee, Bias, Big Chimney, Bille, Blue Jay, Bulltown, Caress, Cinderella, Cyclone, Czar, Cornstalk, Duck, Halcyon, Jingo, Left Hand, Raven’s Eye, Six, Skull Run, Three Churches, Uneeda, Wide Mouth, War Eagle
and
Stumptown
. The Postal Guide shows two
Ben Hurs
, five
St. Elmos
and ten
Ivanhoes
, but only one
Middlemarch
. There are seventeen
Roosevelts
, six
Codys
and six
Barnums
, but no
Shakespeare. Washington
, of course, is the most popular of American place-names. But among names of postoffices it is hard pushed by
Clinton, Centerville, Liberty, Canton, Marion
and
Madison
, and even by
Springfield, Warren
and
Bismarck
. A number of charming double names dot the American map,
e.g., Perth Amboy, Newport News, Front Royal, Wilkes-Barré, Princess Anne, Port Tobacco, The Dalles, Baton Rouge, Walla Walla, Winston-Salem
. In the older States they are supported by some even more charming names for regions and neighborhoods,
e.g., Dame’s Quarter, My Lady’s Manor
and
Soldiers’ Delight
in Maryland.

Many American place-names are purely arbitrary coinages. Towns on the border between two States, or near the border, are often given names made of parts of the names of the two States,
e.g., Pen-Mar
(
Pennsylvania
+
Maryland
),
Del-Mar
and
Mar-Dela
(
Maryland
+
Delaware
)
, Texarkana
(
Texas
+
Arkansas
+
Louisiana
),
Kanorado
(
Kansas
+
Colorado
),
Texhoma
(
Texas + Oklahoma
)
, Dakoming
(
Dakota
+
Wyoming
)
, Texico
(
Texas
+
New Mexico
)
, Nosodak
(
North Dakota
+
South Dakota
)
, Calexico
(
California
+
Mexico
)
.
¹⁵⁶
Norlina
is a telescope form of
North Carolina. Ohiowa
(Neb.) was named by settlers who came partly from Ohio and partly from Iowa.
Penn Yan
(N. Y.) was named by Pennsylvanians and New Englanders,
i.e.
, Yankees.
Colwich
(Kansas) is a telescopic form of the name of the Colorado and Wichita Railroad. There are
twelve
Delmars
in the United States. The name of one of them is a blend of
Delaware
and
Maryland
; the name of another (in Iowa) was “made by using the names (
i.e.
, the initials of the names) of six women who accompanied an excursion that opened the railroad from Clinton, Iowa.”
¹⁵⁷
The lower part of the peninsula separating Chesapeake Bay from the Atlantic is known locally as
Delmarva
, a blend of the first three syllables of
Delaware, Maryland
and
Virginia
. A part of the area is in each of these States.
¹⁵⁸
Benld
(Ill.) is a collision form of
Benjamin L. Dorsey
, the name of a local magnifico;
Cadams
(Neb.) is a collision form of C.
Adams; Wascott
(Wis.) derives from
W. A. Scott; Eleroy
(Ill.) from
E. Leroy; Bucoda
(Wash.) is a blend of
Buckley, Collier
and
Davis; Caldeno
, a waterfall of the Delaware Water Gap, got its name in 1851 from the names of three visitors,
C
.
L. Pascal, C. S. Ogden
, and
Joseph McLeod
;
¹⁵⁹
Pacoman
(N. C.) derives from the name of
E. H. Coap-man
, a former vice-president of the Southern Railway;
Gilsum
(N. H.) is a blend of
Gilbert
and
Sumner; Paragould
(Ark.) is a blend of
W. J. Paramore
and
Jay Gould; Marenisco
(Mich.) is named after
Mary Relief Niles Scott; Miloma
(Minn.) derives its name from the first syllable of
Milwaukee
, in the name of the Milwaukee, Chicago, Minneapolis & St. Paul Railroad, and the first two syllables of
Omaha
, in the name of the Chicago, Minneapolis & Omaha Railroad;
Gerled
(Iowa) is a blend of
Germanic
and
Led-yard
, the names of two nearby townships;
Rolyat
(Ore.) is simply
Taylor
spelled backward;
Biltmore
(N. C.) is the last syllable of
Vanderbilt
plus the Gaelic
more
, signifying great.

The Geographic Board, in its laudable effort to simplify American nomenclature, has played ducks and drakes with some of the most picturesque names on the national map. Thus, I find it deciding against
Portage des Flacons
and in favor of
Burro canyon
, against
Cañons y Ylas de la Cruz
and in favor of the barbarous
Cruz island
. The name of the
De Grasse
river it has changed to
Grass. De Laux
it has changed to the intolerable
D’Llo
. It has steadily amalgamated French and Spanish articles with their nouns, thus achieving such barbarous forms as
Duchesne, Degroff
and
Eldorado
. But here its policy is fortunately inconsistent, and so a number of fine old names have escaped. Thus, it has decided in favor of
Bon Secour
and against
Bonsecours
, and in favor of
De Sota, La Crosse
and
La Moure
, and against
Desoto, Lacrosse
and
Lamoure
. Its decisions are confused and often unintelligible. Why
Laporte
, Pa., and
La Porte
, Ind. and Iowa;
Lagrange
, Ind., and
La Grange
, Ky.? Here it would seem to be yielding a great deal to local usage.

The Board proceeds to the shortening and simplification of native names by various devices. It deletes such suffixes as
town, city, mills, junction, station, center, grove, crossroads
and
courthouse
.
¹⁶⁰
It removes the apostrophe and often the genitive
s
from such names as
St. Mary’s
; it shortens
burgh
to
burg
¹⁶¹
and
borough
to
boro
; and it combines separate and often highly discrete words. The last habit often produces grotesque forms,
e.g., Newberlin, Fallentimber, Bluehill
and
Threetops
. It apparently cherishes a hope of eventually regularizing the spelling of
Allegany
. This is now
Allegany
for the Maryland county, the Pennsylvana township and the New York and Oregon towns,
Alleghany
for the Colorado town and the Virginia county and springs, and
Allegheny
for the mountains, the Pittsburgh borough and the Pennsylvania county, college and river. The Board inclines to
Allegheny
for all. Other Indian names give it constant concern. Its struggles to set up
Chemquasabamticook
as the name of a Maine lake in place of
Chemquasabamtic
and
Chem-quassabamticook
, and
Chatahospee
as the name of an Alabama creek
in place of
Chattahospee, Hoolethlocco, Hoolethloces, Hoolethloco
and
Hootethlocco
are worthy of its learning and authority.

The American weakness for spelling pronunciations shows itself in the case of geographical names. Richard Grant White, in 1880,
¹⁶²
recorded an increasing tendency to give full value to the syllables of such borrowed English names as
Worcester
and
Warwick
. In
Worcester
county, Maryland, the name is usually pronounced
Wooster
, but on the Western Shore of the State one hears
Worceste’r. Norwich
is another such name; one hears
Nor-witch
quite as often as
Norrich
. Another is
Delhi
; one often hears
Del-high
. Yet another is
Birmingham
; it is pronounced as spelled in the United States, and never in the clipped English manner.
Greenwich
as the name of a Connecticut town is pronounced
Grennidge
as in England, but as the name of a San Francisco street it is
Green-witch. Thames
as the name of a Connecticut river is pronounced as spelled, but is
Temz
in England.
Houston
as the name of the Texas city is
Hyewston
, but as the name of a New York City street it is
Howston
. White said that in his youth the name of the
Shawangunk
mountains, in New York, was pronounced
Shongo
, but that the custom of pronouncing it as spelled had arisen during his manhood.
¹⁶³
So with
Winnipiseogee
, the name of a lake; once
Winipisuakie
, it gradually came to be pronounced as spelled. There is frequently a considerable difference between the pronunciation of a name by natives of a place and its pronunciation by those who are familiar with it only in print.
Baltimore
offers an example. The natives always drop the medial
i
and so reduce the name to two syllables; in addition, they substitute a neutral vowel, very short, for the
o
. The name thus be-becomes
Baltm’r. Maryland
, at home, is always
Mare-l’nd. Anne Arundel
, the name of a county in the State, is
Ann’ran’l. Calvert
county, also in Maryland, is given a broad
a
, but in
Calvert
street,
Baltimore, it is flat.
Staunton
, Va., the birthplace of Woodrow Wilson, is
Stanton
to its people, but
Taunton
, Mass., has acquired an
r
-sound.
Arkansas
, as everyone knows, is pronounced
Arkansaw
by the Arkansans.
¹⁶⁴
The local pronunciation of
Illinois
is
Illinoy. Missouri
, at home, is
Mizzoora
, though efforts have been made for many years by the local schoolmarms and other purists to unvoice the
z’s
and to convert the final
a
into
y
.
¹⁶⁵
In the early days the pronunciation of
Iowa
was always
Ioway
, but the schoolmarm has brought in
Iowuh
, with the accent on the first syllable.
St. Louis
, to the people of the city, is
St. Lewis
, but
Louisville
, to its denizens, is
Louie-ville
, with the first syllable French and the second American.
Des Moines
, locally, is
Day-moin
, but
Dee-moin
is also heard; the two
s’s
are always silent.
Terre Haute
is
Terry-hut. Beaufort
is
Byu-furt
in South Carolina but
Bo-furt
in North Carolina.
New Orleans
is
New Oar-lins
, with a heavy accent on the first syllable, but when
New
is omitted and
Orleans
is used as an adjective modifying a following noun it becomes
Or-leens
, with the accent on the second syllable. In Baltimore
Orleans
street is always
Or-leens. Coeur d’Alene
is
Kur-da-lane
, with the accent on the
lane
, and the vowel of
kur
lying between that of
cur
and that of
poor.
¹⁶⁶
Cairo
, Ill., is always
Care-o
locally, never
Ky-ro. Raleigh
, N. C., is
Rolly
, rhyming with
jolly. Honolulu
, in the original native speech, was
Ho-nolulu
, but now it is
Hon-olulu. San Antonio
, Tex., is
Santonyo
, though the second
an
is often inserted by the fastidious. The name of
Taos
, N. Mex., is pronounced to rhyme with
house. Albuquerque
, N. Mex., is
Al-bu-ker-ky
, with the accent on the first syllable, the
a
of which is American, not Spanish.
Laramie
, Wyo., is often reduced to two syllables locally, and pronounced
Lormie
or
Lahrmie. Beatrice
, Neb., is accented on the second syllable.
Wichita
is
Witch-
i-taw
. The first syllable of
Akron
rhymes with
jack
, not with
jake. Spokane
is
Spo-can
, not
Spo-cane. Bonne Terre
, an old town near St. Louis, is
Bonnie-tar. Portage
, Wis., is pronounced as an English word.
Lafayette
, a frequent town name, is
Laugh-y-et. Havre de Grace
is pronounced
Haver de Grass
, with two flat
a’s. Versailles
, in Indiana, is
Versales
. In Northern Michigan the pronunciation of
Sault
in
Sault Ste. Marie
is commonly more or less correct; the Minneapolis, St. Paul & Sault Ste. Marie Railroad is called the
Soo
, and there is a
Soo
canal. This may be due to Canadian example, or to some confusion between
Sault
and
Sioux
. The
Rouge
in
Baton Rouge
gets its French value locally, but the
Baton
becomes
bat’n
, with the
bat
rhyming with
cat
, and the
o
reduced to a neutral vowel. The local pronunciation of
Tucson
, according to the Tucson Sunshine-Climate Club, is
Tu-sahn
, with the accent on the second syllable, but most Americans make it
Too-s’n
, with the accent on the first syllable. It is a great point in San Francisco to pronounce the name of
Geary
street
Gary
, that of
Kearny Karny
, and that of
Sutter
with the
u
of
put:
doing so proves that one is an old-timer.
¹⁶⁷
The Spanish place-names of California offer difficulties to natives and strangers alike. For years the Los Angeles
Times
has printed a standing notice that the name of the city should be pronounced
Loce Ahng-hayl-ais
, but the resident boosters and Bible-searchers continue to say
Loss Angle-iss, Loss Anjell-iss, Loce-Angle-iss, Loce Angle-ez
, and even
Sang-lis
. The common local abbreviation is
L. A.; Los
is seldom heard.
¹⁶⁸
The name of the Indian village that originally occupied the site of the city was
Yang-na
; the Spaniards, in 1769, changed this to
El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Angeles
(The Town of Our Lady, Queen of Angels). Many other California towns have shortened their Spanish names in the same way. What is now
Ventura
was formerly
San Buena Ventura, San José
was
San José de Guadalupe
, and
Santa Clara
was
Santa Clara de Asis. Santa Fe
, in New Mexico, was originally the
Villa Real de Santa Fé de San Francisco
. Some of the Spanish place-names
in the Southwest have been shortened for daily use.
Frisco
for
San Francisco
is frowned upon locally, but is used elsewhere.
San Bernardino
is
San Bernardino, San B’rdino, San B’rdoo
, or
B’rdoo, San Pedro
is
Pedro, Santa Monica
is
Santa Mon, San Jacinto
is
San Jack
, and
Sacramento
is
Sacto
or
Sac
.
¹⁶⁹
In New Mexico and Arizona, where the Spanish-speaking population is relatively large, the Spanish pronunciation is preserved, but in the adjoining States it is fast succumbing to Americanization. The name of the
Raton
pass, separating New Mexico from Colorado, is pronounced
Rah-ton
in New Mexico but
Ra-toon
in Colorado. Similarly,
Costilla
, a border-town, is
Koas-tee-yah
in New Mexico and
Kos-til-la
in Colorado.
San Luis
, in Colorado, is
San Loo-is, Garcia
is
Gar-shah, Saguache
is
Sigh-watch, La Junta
is
La Hunta
instead of
La Hoonta, Buena
is
Bew-nah, Salida
is
Sa-lye-dah
and
Cerro
is
Sir-ro
.
¹⁷⁰
Even the name of the State is often
Color-ray-do
. The Spanish
a
, says Joseph B. Vasché of the State Teachers College at San José, Calif.,
¹⁷¹
appears to be doomed, and the
o
and
i
are going with it. There are frequent pedagogical efforts to restore the old pronunciations, but Mr. Vasché believes that any return to them is impossible. The value of
ñ
has been preserved only by changing it to
ny
, as in
canyon
. Another change in spelling is the abandonment of the accent in such place-names as
San José
and
Santa Fé
. It does not appear on the letterhead of the San José State Teachers College, just mentioned, and the Geographic Board omits it from the name of the capital of New Mexico, though retaining it on the name of the city in Argentina. The accents in French and Scandinavian names are sloughed off in the same way. Every
Belvédère
of the early days is now a
Belvidere
, and every
Ste. Thérèse
has become a
St. Therese
. In Minnesota the Swedish
Skåne
has become
Skane
, and
Malmö
is
Malmo
.
¹⁷²
If there were any considerable number of German place-names on the American map their umlauts would be sacrificed. The German
ch-
sound, when it
appears in
Loch
, a Scottish word, is always converted into
ck
.
¹⁷³
The
Holston
river in Tennessee was originally the
Holstein
.
¹⁷⁴