American Language (105 page)

“Such a locality as
at the corner of Avenue H and Twenty-third street.
” says W. W. Crane, “is about as distinctly American as Algonkian and Iroquois names like
Mississippi
and
Saratoga.
”
¹⁷⁵
Rud-yard Kipling, in his “American Notes,”
¹⁷⁶
gave testimony to the strangeness with which the number-names, the phrase
the corner of
, the word
block
, and the custom of omitting
street
fell upon the ear of a Britisher of a generation or more ago. He quotes with amazement certain directions given to him on his arrival in San Francisco from India: “Go six
blocks
north to [the]
corner of Geary and Markey
[
Market?
]; then walk around till you strike [the]
corner of Sutter and Sixteenth
.”
¹⁷⁷
The English almost always add the word
street
(or
road
or
place
or
avenue
) when speaking of a thoroughfare: such a phrase as
Oxford and New Bond
would strike them as incongruous.
¹⁷⁸
The American custom of numbering and lettering
streets is usually ascribed by English writers to sheer poverty of invention, but of late some of them have borne witness to its convenience. One such is C. K. Ogden, who says in “Basic English”:
¹⁷⁹

Another is E. Stewart Fay, author of a learned work on London street-names.
¹⁸⁰
He says:

The English often give one street more than one name. Thus,
Oxford street
, in London, becomes the
Bayswater road, High street, Holland Park avenue, Goldhawk road
and finally the
Oxford road
to the westward, and
High Holborn, Holborn viaduct, Newgate street, Cheapside, the Poultry, Cornhill
and
Leadenhall street
to the eastward. The
Strand
, in the same way, becomes
Fleet street, Ludgate hill
and
Cannon street
. But the American system of numbering and lettering streets shows some signs of increasing acceptance. There is a
First avenue
in Queen’s Park, London, and parallel to it are
Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth
and
Sixth
avenues — all small streets leading northward from the Harrow road, just east of Kensal Green cemetery. Mr. Fay reports a set of three numbered avenues at East Acton, and one or two at Mortlake. “At Plaistow,” he says, “someone has endeavored to see the light, but unfortunately without bringing much intelligence to the task, for his three numbered avenues are arranged in the shape of a triangle!” There is also a
First street
in Chelsea — a very modest thoroughfare near Lennox gardens and not far from the Brompton Oratory.
¹⁸¹
The English custom
of giving grandiloquent names to small houses in the suburbs has never taken root in the United States, but Summer-camps are usually named, and not infrequently their titles show a gay and saucy spirit,
e.g., Kamp Takitezy, U Kan Kom In, Hatetoleaveit, Viol-Inn, The Cat’s Meeow
and
Iszatso
.
¹⁸²
Tourist-camps often bear names of the same sort. There was a time when all American apartment-houses were elegantly labeled, but of late many of them have been given only street-numbers. There are even hotels without names — six of them in Manhattan. The names of American suburbs often engage the national wits. Those in
-hurst
are so numerous that they have produced a satirical type,
Lonesomehurst
. The garden city movement, launched by an Englishman, Sir Ebenezer Howard, in 1898, was quickly imitated in this country, and with it came a new popularity for names suggesting feudal estates,
e.g., Cecil Manor, Bryn Jenkins
and
Smithdale
. The developers of suburbs in low, marshy places have a great liking for adding
heights
to their names.

The numbering and lettering of streets was apparently invented by Major Pierre-Charles L’Enfant in 1791, when he laid out the plan of Washington. In the older American cities the downtown streets still usually have names surviving from colonial days, and some of them were borrowed originally from London,
e.g., Cheap-side, Cornhill
and
Broadway
.
¹⁸³
In the United States such pretentious designations as
avenue, boulevard, drive
and
speedway
are used much more freely than in England.
Boulevard
, in some American cities, has of late taken on the meaning of a highway for through traffic, on entering which all vehicles must first halt. In England such a highway is commonly called an
arterial road
. Every American town of any airs has a
Great White Way
; in the Middle West, in the Era of Optimism, rows of fine shade-trees were cut down to make room for them.
Avenue
is used in England, but according to Horwill, it is “usually reserved for a road bordered by trees.” Professor Weekley says that the first
avenue
in London was
St. Bride’s
, opened in 1825. In America the word was formerly used to designate a thoroughfare in the suburbs, not built up like a street, but laid out for future building, and hence not a road. In the Baltimore of my youth
Charles street
became
Charles street avenue
at the old city boundary, and the
Charles street avenue road a
bit farther out. At Towanda, Pa., there is a
Plank road street
. Many American towns now have
plazas
, which are quite unknown in England, and nearly all have
City Hall parks, squares
or
places
. The principal street of a small town, in the United States, used to be
Main street
, but since the appearance of Sinclair Lewis’s novel of that name, in 1920, the designation has taken on a derogatory implication, and is going out. In England,
Main street
is usually
the High street
, not forgetting the article; but in Scotland there are many
Main streets
. The newer suburbs of American towns are full of
lanes, roads
and
ways
, but the English
circus, crescent, terrace, walk, passage
and
garden
are seldom encountered.
Alley
survives in a few of the older cities, but
row, court
and
yard
are virtually extinct. These English names for thoroughfares, like the American
boulevard
and
avenue
, have lost most of their original significance. “
À Londres
,” complains André Maurois (quoted by Professor Weekley), “
Cromwell place est une rue, Cromwell gardens n’est un jardin, et Hyde Park terrace n’est pas une terrasse.
”

The pronunciation of street-names in the United States shows the same freedom that marks the pronunciation of place-names. The old Dutch names of New York City are sadly mangled by the present inhabitants of the town,
e.g., Desbrosses
, which was
de Broose
in Dutch, is now
Des-brossez
. Spanish names are often corrupted in the same way in the Southwest, and French names in the Great Lakes region and in Louisiana and thereabout. In New Orleans
Bourbon
has become
Bur-bun
or
Boi-bun, Dauphine
is
Daw-fin, Foucher
is
Foosh’r, Enghien
is
En-gine, Chartres
is
Charters
, and
Felicity
(originally
Félicité
)
is Fill-a-city
. The French, in their far-off day, bestowed the names of the Muses upon certain of the city streets. They are now pronounced
Cal-y-ope
or
Cal-yop, You-terp
or
You-toip, Mel-po-mean, Terp-si-core, Drieds
, and so on.
Bons Enfants
, apparently too difficult for the present inhabitants, has been translated into
Good Children
, and the
rue Royale
into
Royal street
. In Montgomery, Ala., the local Darktown,
Boguehomme
by name, is called
Boag-a-home-a
.
¹⁸⁴

As everyone knows, the right of
Americans
to be so called is
frequently challenged, especially in Latin-America, but so far no plausible substitute has been devised, though many have been proposed,
e.g., Unisians, Unitedstatesians, Columbards
, etc. On October 28, 1928, the Paris
Figaro
opened a discussion of the subject, in which M. Dumont-Wilden, editor of the
Revue Bleue
, Gabriel Louis-Jaray, of the Comité France-Amérique, André Siegfried, author of “America Comes of Age,” and various other ingenious Frenchmen participated, but nothing came of it. There are also frequent debates over the designation to be applied to the inhabitants of various States and cities. The people of Alabama commonly call themselves
Alabamians
, and those of Indiana call themselves
Indianians
, but in both States there are minorities which object to the redundant
i
.
¹⁸⁵
In Oklahoma
Oklahoman
has the weight of enlightened opinion behind it, but
Oklahomian
is often heard outside the State. In Idaho the English faculty of the State university favors
Idahovan
, but
Idahoan
is heard much more often. In Atlanta some of the people call themselves
Atlantans
and others prefer
Atlantians:
the Atlanta
Constitution
uses the former and the
Journal
the latter. In New Orleans
Orleanian
, with the accent on the
an
, is preferred by the elegant, but the vast majority of citizens say
Orleenian
, with the accent on the
leen
.
¹⁸⁶
Larousse’s Grand Dictionnaire Universal prints (under
noms
) a list of the designations of persons living in all the principal towns of France, but so far as I know, no such compilation has ever been attempted for the United States. Nevertheless, George R. Stewart, Jr., of the University of California, has attempted to determine the principles underlying their formation. His conclusions may be roughly summarized as follows:

But there are frequent exceptions to these rules. In California the Spanish names ending in
o
do not take
an
, but change the
o
to
a
and add
n, e.g., San Franciscan, San Diegan, Sacramentan, Palo Altan, San Matean
and
Los Gatan
. Even those not ending in
o
tend to take
an, e.g., Santa Cruzan, Salinan, San Josean
and
Montereyan
. A Buffalo man is not a
Buffaloan
, but a
Buffalonian
, and by the same token a Toronto man is a
Torontonian
. A Quincy, Ill., man is not a
Quin-cian
, but a
Quincyan
. The hideous suffix
-ite
seems to be gaining on all others. A citizen of Akron, O., used to be an
Akronian
, but after the town began to boom he became an
Akronite
. For many years an Episcopal clergyman, Dr. Ringwalt, who wrote editorials for the Camden, N. J.,
Post-Telegram
, tried to make his readers accept
Camdenian
, but they preferred
Camdenite
, and
Camdenite
it is today. In Moscow, Idaho, the
intelligentsia
of the State University prefer
Moscovite
, with
Moscovian
as second choice, but the Moscow
Star-Mirror
prefers
Moscowite
, and so do the people of the town.
¹⁸⁸
A citizen of Raleigh, N. C. (pronounced
Roily
), should be a
Raleighan
by Mr. Stewart’s rule, but he is actually a
Raleighite
, though a citizen of Berkeley, Calif., remains a
Berkeleyan
, not a
Berkeleyite
. There is apparently a strong tendency for
-ite
to follow
d, f, g, l, m, n, r
and
s
, as in
Englewoodite, St. Josephite, Wheelingite, Seattleite, Durhamite, Brooklynite, Fall Riverite
and
Yonkersite
,
¹⁸⁹
but there are some exceptions,
e.g., Richmonder,
¹⁹⁰
Winnipegger, Montrealer, Lynner, Rochesterian, Memphian
. The names ending in
k
and
t
usually take
er, e.g., Yorker, Quebecer, Davenporter, Rocky Mounter
, but in Passaic, N. J.,
Passaicite
is preferred, and in Frederick,
Md., the proper form is not
Fredericker
but
Fredericktonian
. In the few American towns whose names end with the French
g, an
is added,
e.g., Baton Rougean
. Those in
-ville
drop the final
e
and add
-ian, e.g., Louisvillian
. In Los Angeles the correct form is
Angeleño
(pro.
An-juh-lee-no
), but it is not yet in universal use, and in print it always loses its tilde. The average denizen of Los Angeles, asked what he is, still responds that he is an
Iowan
, a
Kansan
, a
Texan
, or what not. In Taos, N. Mex.,
Taoseño
is used, with
Taoseña
for a female, and the tilde is carefully preserved. I am told by Mr. Spud Johnson, editor of the Taos
Valley News
, that
Taosian
and
Taosite
are sometimes used by tourists and the indigenous vulgar, but “partly because there is a well-known woman’s club called Las Taoseñas, which has made the name familiar, and partly because it is graceful and easy and the alternatives are somewhat clumsy, the Spanish form is used even by the Lions and the Chamber of Commerce.”
¹⁹¹
The people of Cambridge, Mass., borrowing from those of the English university town, call themselves
Cantabrigians
, and those of Saugus, Mass., call themselves
Saugonians
. Those of Providence, R. I., remembering proudly that they live in what is officially the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, simply call themselves
Rhode Islanders
. A citizen of Schenectady, N. Y., is ordinarily a
Schenectadian
, but often says that he is a
Dorpian
, from the ancient Dutch designation of the town — the
Dorp
, or the
Old Dorp
. Similarly, a citizen of Reading, Pa., uses
Berks County Dutchman
in preference to
Readingite
. A citizen of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., is ordinarily a
Poughkeepsian
, but sometimes he calls himself an
Apokeepsian
, and some years ago the local Rotarians tried to make
Apokeepsian
official. It is supposed to be more nearly in accord with the original Indian name of the town. A citizen of Cape Girardeau, Mo., is a
Girardean
, omitting the
Cape
. A man of Greensboro, N. C., may be either a
Greensburger
or a
Greensboroite
, according to his private taste. A man of Lancaster, Pa., is a
Lancastrian
. A man of Hagerstown, Md., is not a
Hagerstownite
but a
Hagerstowner
or (occasionally)
Hagerstonian
. A
Montrealer
, if French, is
un Mon-tréalais
, and if female
une Montréalaise
. A
Quebecer
, if French, is a
Québecois
.
¹⁹²
In the towns bearing classical or pseudo-classical names
the inhabitants wear extremely majestic labels,
e.g., Trojan, Car-thagenian
(Carthage, Mo.),
Phoenician
(Phoenix, Ariz.),
Florentine
(Florence, Ala.),
Roman, Athenian, Spartan
, but a citizen of Columbus, O., is a
Columbusite
not a
Columbian
.
¹⁹³
The names of certain American towns are so refractory that no special designations for their citizens have ever arisen. Examples are La Crosse, Wis., Osh-kosh, Wis.,
¹⁹⁴
Little Rock, Ark., Independence, Mo., Rutland, Vt.,
¹⁹⁵
and
the New Jersey Oranges. Some of the States are in the same position,
e.g.
, Massachusetts and Connecticut. A resident of the District of Columbia always calls himself a
Washingtonian
. A citizen of Arkansas is an
Arkansawyer
, following the local pronunciation of the State name. A citizen of Michigan is a
Michigander
. A citizen of New Jersey is a
Jerseyman
.
¹⁹⁶
A rough popular humor often supplies opprobrious forms. Thus the people of Chicago (or at least some of them) have been called
Chicagorillas
, those of Baltimore
Balti-morons
,
¹⁹⁷
those of Omaha
Omahogs
, those of Louisville
Louisvillains
, those of Swampscott, Mass.,
Swampskeeters
, and those of Cedar Rapids, Iowa,
Bunnies
(See der rabbits). All the States have nicknames, and some have more than one. A number of these are almost as well known as the actual State names,
e.g., Hoosier
(Indiana),
Keystone
(Pennsylvania),
Empire
(New York),
Buckeye
(Ohio),
Old Dominion
(Virginia),
Show Me
(Missouri),
Palmetto
(South Carolina),
Lone Star
(Texas),
Tarheel
(North Carolina), and
Bay
(Massachusetts).
¹⁹⁸
In some cases the inhabitants are known by the nicknames of their States,
e.g., Hoosiers, Tarheels, Buckeyes, Crackers
(Georgia). In other cases separate nicknames have arisen,
e.g., Jayhawks
(Kansas),
Colonels
(Kentucky),
Blue Hen’s Chickens
(Delaware). In the early days most of the designations in vogue were ribald,
e.g., Lizards
(Alabama),
Buzzards
(Georgia),
Pukes
(Missouri),
Web-feet
(Oregon),
Whelps
(Tennessee),
Beetheads
(Texas),
Leatherheads
(Pennsylvania),
Foxes
(Maine),
Toothpicks
(Arkansas),
Bug-eaters
(Nebraska),
Weasels
(South Carolina),
Tadpoles
(Mississippi),
Muskrats
(Delaware),
Clam-catchers
(New Jersey),
Crawthumpers
(Maryland). In his “Slang in America” (part of “November Boughs,” 1888) Walt Whitman printed a list largely identical with the foregoing: apparently he borrowed it from an anonymous newspaper article reprinted in the
Broadway Journal
for May 3, 1845.
¹⁹⁹
The etymology of the State nicknames has engaged a large number of amateur philologians, but with inconclusive results. The origin of
Hoosier
, for example, remains uncertain.
²⁰⁰
Many cities also have generally recognized nicknames,
e.g., the Hub
(Boston),
the Windy City
(Chicago),
the Monumental City
(Baltimore), and
the Quaker City
(Philadelphia), and nearly every small place of any pretensions has tried to launch one for itself, usually embodying
Queen
or
Wonder
.