The Rev. Jeremy Belknap, long anticipating Elwyn, White and Lounsbury,

tried to obtain a respite from this abuse by pointing out the obvious

fact that many of the Americanisms under fire were merely survivors of

an English that had become archaic in England, but this effort counted

for little, for on the one hand the British purists enjoyed the chase

too much to give it up, and on the other hand there began to dawn in

America a new spirit of nationality, at first very faint, which viewed

the differences objected to, not with shame, but with a fierce sort of

pride. In the first volume of the /North American Review/ William

Ellery Channing spoke out boldly for "the American language and

literature,"[7] and a year later Pickering published his defiant

dictionary of "words and phrases which have been supposed to be

peculiar to the United States." This thin collection of 500 specimens

set off a dispute which yet rages on both sides of the Atlantic.

Pickering, however, was undismayed. He had begun to notice the growing

difference between the English and American vocabulary and

pronunciation, he said, while living in London from 1799 to 1801, and

he had made his collections with the utmost care, and after taking

counsel with various prudent authorities, both English and American.

Already in the first year of the century, he continued, the English

had accused the people of the new republic of a deliberate "design to

effect an entire change in the language" and while no such design was

actually harbored, the facts were the facts, and he cited the current

newspapers, the speeches from pulpit and rostrum, and Webster himself

in support of them. This debate over Pickering's list, as I say, still

continues. Lounsbury, entrenched behind his grotesque categories, once

charged that four-fifths of the words in it had "no business to be

there," and [Pg040] Gilbert M. Tucker[8] has argued that only 70 of

them were genuine Americanisms. But a careful study of the list, in

comparison with the early quotations recently collected by Thornton,

seems to indicate that both of these judgments, and many others no

less, have done injustice to Pickering. He made the usual errors of

the pioneer, but his sound contributions to the subject were anything

but inconsiderable, and it is impossible to forget his diligence and

his constant shrewdness. He established firmly the native origin of a

number of words now in universal use in America--/e. g./,

/backwoodsman/, /breadstuffs/, /caucus/, /clapboard/, /sleigh/ and

/squatter/--and of such familiar derivatives as /gubernatorial/ and

/dutiable/, and he worked out the genesis of not a few loan-words,

including /prairie/, /scow/, /rapids/, /hominy/ and /barbecue/. It was

not until 1848, when the first edition of Bartlett appeared, that his

work was supplanted.

§ 2

/Sources of Early Americanisms/--The first genuine Americanisms were

undoubtedly words borrowed bodily from the Indian dialects--words, in

the main, indicating natural objects that had no counterparts in

England. We find /opossum/, for example, in the form of /opasum/, in

Captain John Smith's "Map of Virginia" (1612), and, in the form of

/apossoun/, in a Virginia document two years older. /Moose/ is almost

as old. The word is borrowed from the Algonquin /musa/, and must have

become familiar to the Pilgrim Fathers soon after their landing in

1620, for the woods of Massachusetts then swarmed with the huge

quadrupeds and there was no English name to designate them. Again,

there are /skunk/ (from the Abenaki Indian /seganku/), /hickory/,

/squash/, /paw-paw/, /raccoon/, /chinkapin/, /porgy/, /chipmunk/,

/pemmican/, /terrapin/, /menhaden/, /catalpa/, /persimmon/ and

/cougar/. Of these, /hickory/ and /terrapin/ are to be found in Robert

Beverley's "History and Present State of Virginia" (1705), and

/squash/, /chinkapin/ and /persimmon/ are in documents of the

preceding century. Many of these words, of course, were shortened

[Pg041] or otherwise modified on being taken into colonial English.

Thus /chinkapin/ was originally /checkinqumin/, and /squash/ appears

in early documents as /isquontersquash/, /askutasquash/,

/isquonkersquash/ and /squantersquash/. But William Penn, in a letter

dated August 16, 1683, used the latter in its present form. Its

variations show a familiar effort to bring a new and strange word into

harmony with the language--an effort arising from what philologists

call the law of Hobson-Jobson. This name was given to it by Col. Henry

Yule and A. C. Burnell, compilers of a standard dictionary of

Anglo-Indian terms. They found that the British soldiers in India,

hearing strange words from the lips of the natives, often converted

them into English words of similar sound, though of widely different

meaning. Thus the words /Hassan/ and /Hosein/, frequently used by the

Mohammedans of the country in their devotions, were turned into

/Hobson-Jobson/. The same process is constantly in operation

elsewhere. By it the French /route de roi/ has become /Rotten Row/ in

English, /écrevisse/ has become /crayfish/, and the English /bowsprit/

has become /beau pré/ (=/beautiful meadow/) in French. The word

/pigeon/, in /Pigeon English/, offers another example; it has no

connection with the bird, but merely represents a Chinaman's attempt

to pronounce the word /business/. No doubt /squash/ originated in the

same way. That /woodchuck/ did so is practically certain. Its origin

is to be sought, not in /wood/ and /chuck/, but in the Cree word

/otchock/, used by the Indians to designate the animal.

In addition to the names of natural objects, the early colonists, of

course, took over a great many Indian place-names, and a number of

words to designate Indian relations and artificial objects in Indian

use. To the last division belong /hominy/, /pone/, /toboggan/,

/canoe/, /tapioca/, /moccasin/, /pow-wow/, /papoose/, /tomahawk/,

/wigwam/, /succotash/ and /squaw/, all of which were in common

circulation by the beginning of the eighteenth century. Finally, new

words were made during the period by translating Indian terms, for

example, /war-path/, /war-paint/, /pale-face/, /medicine-man/,

/pipe-of-peace/ and /fire-water/. The total number of such borrowings,

direct and indirect, was a good deal larger [Pg042] than now appears,

for with the disappearance of the red man the use of loan-words from

his dialects has decreased. In our own time such words as /papoose/,

/sachem/, /tepee/, /wigwam/ and /wampum/ have begun to drop out of

everyday use;[9] at an earlier period the language sloughed off

/ocelot/, /manitee/, /calumet/, /supawn/, /samp/ and /quahaug/, or

began to degrade them to the estate of provincialisms.[10] A curious

phenomenon is presented by the case of /maize/, which came into the

colonial speech from some West Indian dialect, went over into orthodox

English, and from English into French, German and other continental

languages, and was then abandoned by the colonists. We shall see other

examples of that process later on.

Whether or not /Yankee/ comes from an Indian dialect is still

disputed. An early authority, John G. E. Heckwelder, argued that it

was derived from an Indian mispronunciation of the word /English/.[11]

Certain later etymologists hold that it originated more probably in an

Indian mishandling of the French word /Anglais/. Yet others derive it

from the Scotch /yankie/, meaning a gigantic falsehood. A fourth party

derive it from the Dutch, and cite an alleged Dutch model for "Yankee

Doodle," beginning "/Yanker/ didee doodle down."[12] Of these theories

that of Heckwelder is the most plausible. But here, as in other

directions, the investigation of American etymology remains sadly

incomplete. An elaborate dictionary of words derived from the Indian

languages, compiled by the late W. R. Gerard, is in the possession of

the Smithsonian Institution, but on account of a shortage of funds it

remains in manuscript. [Pg043]

From the very earliest days of English colonization the language of

the colonists also received accretions from the languages of the other

colonizing nations. The French word /portage/, for example, was

already in common use before the end of the seventeenth century, and

soon after came /chowder/, /cache/, /caribou/, /voyageur/, and various

words that, like the last-named, have since become localisms or

disappeared altogether. Before 1750 /bureau/,[13] /gopher/, /batteau/,

/bogus/, and /prairie/ were added, and /caboose/, a word of Dutch

origin, seems to have come in through the French. /Carry-all/ is also

French in origin, despite its English quality. It comes, by the law of

Hobson-Jobson, from the French /carriole/. The contributions of the

Dutch during the half century of their conflicts with the English

included /cruller/, /cold-slaw/, /dominie/ (for /parson/), /cookey/,

/stoop/, /span/ (of horses), /pit/ (as in /peach-pit/), /waffle/,

/hook/ (a point of land), /scow/, /boss/, /smearcase/ and /Santa

Claus/.[14] Schele de Vere credits them with /hay-barrack/, a

corruption of /hooiberg/. That they established the use of /bush/ as a

designation for back-country is very probable; the word has also got

into South African English. In American it has produced a number of

familiar derivatives, /e. g./, /bush-whacker/ and /bush-league/.

Barrère and Leland also credit the Dutch with /dander/, which is

commonly assumed to be an American corruption of /dandruff/. They say

that it is from the Dutch word /donder/ (=/thunder/). /Op donderen/,

in Dutch, means to burst into a sudden rage. The chief Spanish

contributions to American were to come after the War of 1812, with the

opening of the West, but /creole/, /calaboose/, /palmetto/, /peewee/,

/key/ (a small island), /quadroon/, /octoroon/, /barbecue/,

/pickaninny/ and /stampede/ had already entered the language in

colonial days. /Jerked beef/ came from the Spanish /charqui/ by the

law of Hobson-Jobson. The Germans who arrived in Pennsylvania in 1682

also undoubtedly gave a few words to the language, though [Pg044] it

is often difficult to distinguish their contributions from those of

the Dutch. It seems very likely, however, that /sauerkraut/[15] and

/noodle/ are to be credited to them. Finally, the negro slaves brought

in /gumbo/, /goober/, /juba/ and /voodoo/ (usually corrupted to

/hoodoo/), and probably helped to corrupt a number of other

loan-words, for example /banjo/ and /breakdown/. /Banjo/ seems to be

derived from /bandore/ or /bandurria/, modern French and Spanish forms

of /tambour/, respectively. It may, however, be an actual negro word;

there is a term of like meaning, /bania/, in Senegambian. Ware says

that /breakdown/, designating a riotous negro dance, is a corruption

of the French /rigadon/. The word is not in the Oxford Dictionary.

Bartlett listed it as an Americanism, but Thornton rejected it,

apparently because, in the sense of a collapse, it has come into

colloquial use in England. Its etymology is not given in the American

dictionaries.

§ 3

/New Words of English Material/--But of far more importance than these

borrowings was the great stock of new words that the colonists coined

in English metal--words primarily demanded by the "new circumstances

under which they were placed," but also indicative, in more than one

case, of a delight in the business for its own sake. The American,

even in the early eighteenth century, already showed many of the

characteristics that were to set him off from the Englishman later

on--his bold and somewhat grotesque imagination, his contempt for

authority, his lack of aesthetic sensitiveness, his extravagant humor.

Among the first colonists there were many men of education, culture

and gentle birth, but they were soon swamped by hordes of the ignorant

and illiterate, and the latter, cut off from the corrective influence

of books, soon laid their hands upon the language. It is impossible to

imagine the austere Puritan divines of Massachusetts inventing such

verbs as /to cowhide/ and /to logroll/, or such adjectives as

/no-account/ and /stumped/, or such adverbs as /no-how/ and [Pg045]

/lickety-split/, or such substantives as /bull-frog/, /hog-wallow/ and

/hoe-cake/; but under their eyes there arose a contumacious

proletariat which was quite capable of the business, and very eager

for it. In Boston, so early as 1628, there was a definite class of

blackguard roisterers, chiefly made up of sailors and artisans; in

Virginia, nearly a decade earlier, John Pory, secretary to Governor

Yeardley, lamented that "in these five moneths of my continuance here

there have come at one time or another eleven sails of ships into this

river, but fraighted more with ignorance than with any other

marchansize." In particular, the generation born in the New World was

uncouth and iconoclastic;[16] the only world it knew was a rough

world, and the virtues that environment engendered were not those of

niceness, but those of enterprise and resourcefulness.

Upon men of this sort fell the task of bringing the wilderness to the

ax and the plow, and with it went the task of inventing a vocabulary

for the special needs of the great adventure. Out of their loutish

ingenuity came a great number of picturesque names for natural

objects, chiefly boldly descriptive compounds: /bull-frog/,

/canvas-back/, /lightning-bug/, /mud-hen/, /cat-bird/, /razor-back/,

/garter-snake/, /ground-hog/ and so on. And out of an inventiveness

somewhat more urbane came such coinages as /live-oak/, /potato-bug/,

/turkey-gobbler/, /poke-weed/, /copper-head/, /eel-grass/,

/reed-bird/, /egg-plant/, /blue-grass/, /pea-nut/, /pitch-pine/,

/cling-stone/ (peach), /moccasin-snake/, /June-bug/ and /butter-nut/.

/Live-oak/ appears in a document of 1610; /bull-frog/ was familiar to

Beverley in 1705; so was /James-Town weed/ (later reduced to /Jimson

weed/, as the English /hurtleberry/ or /whortleberry/ was reduced to

/huckleberry/). These early Americans were not botanists. They were

often ignorant of the names of the plants they encountered, even when

those plants already had English names, and so they exercised their

fancy upon new ones. So arose /Johnny-jump-up/ for the /Viola

tricolor/, and /basswood/ for the common European /linden/ or

/lime-tree/ (/Tilia/), and /locust/ for the /Robinia pseudacacia/ and

its allies. The /Jimson weed/ itself was anything but a [Pg046]

novelty, but the pioneers apparently did not recognize it, and so we

find them ascribing all sorts of absurd medicinal powers to it, and

even Beverley solemnly reporting that "some Soldiers, eating it in a

Salad, turn'd natural Fools upon it for several Days." The grosser

features of the landscape got a lavish renaming, partly to distinguish

new forms and partly out of an obvious desire to attain a more literal

descriptiveness. I have mentioned /key/ and /hook/, the one borrowed

from the Spanish and the other from the Dutch. With them came /run/,

/branch/, /fork/, /bluff/, (noun), /neck/, /barrens/, /bottoms/,

/underbrush/, /bottom-land/, /clearing/, /notch/, /divide/, /knob/,

/riffle/, /gap/, /rolling-country/ and /rapids/,[17] and the extension

of /pond/ from artificial pools to small natural lakes, and of /creek/

from small arms of the sea to shallow feeders of rivers. Such common

English geographical terms as /downs/, /weald/, /wold/, /fen/, /bog/,

/fell/, /chase/, /combe/, /dell/, /heath/ and /moor/ disappeared from

the colonial tongue, save as fossilized in a few proper names. So did

/bracken/.

With the new landscape came an entirely new mode of life--new foods,

new forms of habitation, new methods of agriculture, new kinds of

hunting. A great swarm of neologisms thus arose, and, as in the

previous case, they were chiefly compounds. /Back-country/,

/back-woods/, /back-woodsman/, /back-settlers/, /back-settlements/:

all these were in common use early in the eighteenth century.

/Back-log/ was used by Increase Mather in 1684. /Log-house/ appears in

the Maryland Archives for 1669.[18] /Hoe-cake/, /Johnny-cake/,

/pan-fish/, /corn-dodger/, /roasting-ear/, /corn-crib/, /corn-cob/ and

/pop-corn/ were all familiar before the Revolution. So were

/pine-knot/, /snow-plow/, /cold-snap/, /land-slide/, /salt-lick/,

/prickly-heat/, /shell-road/ and /cane-brake/. /Shingle/ was a novelty

in 1705, but one S. Symonds wrote to John Winthrop, of Ipswich, about

a /clapboarded/ house in 1637. /Frame-house/ seems to have come in

with /shingle/. /Trail/, /half-breed/, /Indian-summer/ and [Pg047]

/Indian-file/ were obviously suggested by the Red Men. /State-house/

was borrowed, perhaps, from the Dutch. /Selectman/ is first heard of

in 1685, displacing the English /alderman/. /Mush/ had displaced

/porridge/ by 1671. Soon afterward /hay-stack/ took the place of the

English /hay-cock/, and such common English terms as /byre/, /mews/,

/weir/, and /wain/ began to disappear. /Hired-man/ is to be found in

the Plymouth town records of 1737, and /hired-girl/ followed soon

after. So early as 1758, as we find by the diary of Nathaniel Ames,

the second-year students at Harvard were already called /sophomores/,

though for a while the spelling was often made /sophimores/.

/Camp-meeting/ was later; it did not appear until 1799. But

/land-office/ was familiar before 1700, and /side-walk/,

/spelling-bee/, /bee-line/, /moss-back/, /crazy-quilt/, /mud-scow/,

/stamping-ground/ and a hundred and one other such compounds were in

daily use before the Revolution. After that great upheaval the new

money of the confederation brought in a number of new words. In 1782

Gouverneur Morris proposed to the Continental Congress that the coins

of the republic be called, in ascending order, /unit/, /penny-bill/,

/dollar/ and /crown/. Later Morris invented the word /cent/,

substituting it for the English /penny/.[19] In 1785 Jefferson

proposed /mill/, /cent/, /dime/, /dollar/ and /eagle/, and this

nomenclature was adopted.

Various nautical terms peculiar to America, or taken into English from

American sources, came in during the eighteenth century, among them,

/schooner/, /cat-boat/ and /pungy/, not to recall /batteau/ and

/canoe/. According to a recent historian of the American merchant

marine,[20] the first schooner ever seen was launched at Gloucester,

Mass., in 1713. The word, it appears, was originally spelled

/scooner/. /To scoon/ was a verb borrowed by the New Englanders from

some Scotch dialect, and meant to skim or skip across the water like a

flat stone. As the first schooner left the ways and glided out into

Gloucester harbor, an enraptured spectator shouted: "Oh, see how she

scoons!" "A /scooner/ let her be!" replied Captain Andrew Robinson,

her [Pg048] builder--and all boats of her peculiar and novel

fore-and-aft rig took the name thereafter. The Dutch mariners borrowed

the term and changed the spelling, and this change was soon accepted

in America. The Scotch root came from the Norse /skunna/, to hasten,

and there are analogues in Icelandic, Anglo-Saxon and Old High German.

The origin of /cat-boat/ and /pungy/ I have been unable to determine.

Perhaps the latter is related in some way to /pung/, a one-horse sled

or wagon. /Pung/ was once widely used in the United States, but of

late it has sunk to the estate of a New England provincialism.

Longfellow used it, and in 1857 a writer in the /Knickerbocker

Magazine/ reported that /pungs/ filled Broadway, in New York, after a

snow-storm.

Most of these new words, of course, produced derivatives, for example,

/to stack hay/, /to shingle/, /to shuck/ (/i. e./, corn), /to trail/

and /to caucus/. /Backwoods/ immediately begat /backwoodsman/ and was

itself turned into a common adjective. The colonists, indeed, showed a

beautiful disregard of linguistic nicety. At an early date they

shortened the English law-phrase, /to convey by deed/, to the simple

verb, /to deed/. Pickering protested against this as a barbarism, and

argued that no self-respecting law-writer would employ it, but all the

same it was firmly entrenched in the common speech and it has remained

there to this day. /To table/, for /to lay on the table/, came in at

the same time, and so did various forms represented by /bindery/, for

/bookbinder's shop/. /To tomahawk/ appeared before 1650, and /to

scalp/ must have followed soon after. Within the next century and a

half they were reinforced by many other such new verbs, and by such

adjectives made of nouns as /no-account/ and /one-horse/, and such

nouns made of verbs as /carry-all/ and /goner/, and such adverbs as

/no-how/. In particular, the manufacture of new verbs went on at a

rapid pace. In his letter to Webster in 1789, Franklin denounced /to

advocate/, /to progress/, and /to oppose/--a vain enterprise, for all

of them are now in perfectly good usage. /To advocate/, indeed, was

used by Thomas Nashe in 1589, and by John Milton half a century later,

but it seems to have been reinvented in America. In 1822 and again in

1838 Robert Southey, then poet laureate, led two belated attacks upon

it, as a barbarous Americanism, but [Pg049] its obvious usefulness

preserved it, and it remains in good usage on both sides of the

Atlantic today--one of the earliest of the English borrowings from

America. In the end, indeed, even so ardent a purist as Richard Grant

White adopted it, as he did /to placate/.[21]

Webster, though he agreed with Franklin in opposing /to advocate/,

gave his /imprimatur/ to /to appreciate/ (/i. e./, to rise in

value), and is credited by Sir Charles Lyell[22] with having himself

invented /to demoralize/. He also approved /to obligate/. /To

antagonize/ seems to have been given currency by John Quincy Adams,

/to immigrate/ by John Marshall, /to eventuate/ by Gouverneur Morris,

and /to derange/ by George Washington. Jefferson, always hospitable

to new words, used /to belittle/ in his "Notes on Virginia," and

Thornton thinks that he coined it. Many new verbs were made by

the simple process of prefixing the preposition to common nouns,

/e. g./, /to clerk/, /to dicker/, /to dump/, /to blow/, (/i. e./,

to bluster or boast), /to cord/ (/i. e./, wood) /to stump/, /to

room/ and /to shin/. Others were made by transforming verbs in the

orthodox vocabulary, /e. g./, /to cavort/ from /to curvet/, and /to

snoop/ from /to snook/. Others arose as metaphors, /e. g./, /to

whitewash/ (figuratively) and /to squat/ (on unoccupied land). Others

were made by hitching suffixes to nouns, /e. g./, /to negative/,

/to deputize/, /to locate/, /to legislate/, /to infract/, /to

compromit/ and /to happify/. Yet others seem to have been produced by

onomatopoeia, /e. g./, /to fizzle/, or to have arisen by some other

such spontaneous process, so far unintelligible, /e. g./, /to tote/.

With them came an endless series of verb-phrases, /e. g./, /to draw a

bead/, /to face the music/, /to darken one's doors/, /to take to the

woods/, /to fly off the handle/, /to go on the war-path/ and /to saw

wood/--all obvious products of frontier life. Many coinages of the

pre-Revolutionary era later disappeared. Jefferson used /to ambition/

but it dropped out nevertheless, and so did /to compromit/, (/i. e./,

to compromise), /to homologize/, and /to happify/. Fierce battles

raged 'round some of these words, and they were all violently derided

in England. Even so useful a verb as /to locate/, now in perfectly

good usage, [Pg050] was denounced in the third volume of the /North

American Review/, and other purists of the times tried to put down

/to legislate/.

The American Language A Preliminary Inquiry into the Development of English in the United States · 第 4 / 36 段