The Etymologies of Isidore

The Etymologiae of Saint and Bishop Isidore of Seville (c.560 - 636) is an early encyclopedia that summarizes in 20 volumes all the knowledge that he considered important. It is most remembered and mentioned for the section on etymologies, but he also wrote about (or quoted from Greek and Roman sources) the trivium (grammar, rhetoric, logic) and quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, music, astronomy), law and medicine, the Church and various heresies, buildings and roads, materials and tools, war, foods, clothing, languages, pagan philosophers, architecture, and more. (Pope John Paul II named Isidore the patron saint of the Internet.)

His etymologies were worthy of the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding who linked every concept to a Greek word. (The evidence suggests that Isidore was not well-versed in the Greek language.) Examples are that dominus (master) begins with "D" because so does domus (house), and a dominus is the master of a domus. Also, the Latin verb "to teach" is docere, which is related to docile (compliant) because compliant people can learn easily. He finds the origin of mendicus, the Latin word for beggar, in the Latin phrase manu dicere, "to speak with the hand," because (he says) there was an ancient custom for beggars to close their mouths and hold out their hand for food. Prostitutes (fornicatrix and fornicarius) are named from fornix, "arch," because they would hang about under an arch waiting for a client.

Among his other offerings:

—A table that explains family relationships ("Who is your second cousin twice removed?") and the terms for each family member.

—The classic "T" map of the world, the mappa mundi.  (The illustration is from a 10th century copy, showing such a map.)

—How the four elements make up the body:

But flesh is composed of four elements: earth is in the fleshy parts, air in the breath, water in the blood, fire in the vital heat. The elements are mingled in us in their proper proportions, of which something is lacking when the conjunction is dissolved.

—Bodily functions:

The mouth is compared to the door of the belly which receives and passes on food to the intestines through the esophagus which is near the windpipe, and which is closed off by the epiglottis during deglutition. 

The intestines are arranged in long circular entwinings so that food can be gradually digested. The abdominal viscera are separated from the heart and lungs by the diaphragm and covered by the omentum. Food, when first passed into the small intestine, is called jantaculum. The large intestine, the “blind gut,” is identified and it is pointed out that the gastrointestinal tract is open at each end. The rectum and anus are turned away from our faces to spare us the indelicacy of witnessing their evacuation.

—Medicine:

The poppy is the sleep-bearing herb, of which Vergil says [Georgics 1. 78]: Lethaeo perfusa papavera somno, ‘Heavy sleep, pressed out of the poppy,’ since it stupefies the sleeper. Some poppies are common; others are stronger, namely those from which flows the juice called opion.

...and many other topics, as mentioned above.

His Etymologiae was studied and copied and illustrated through the Middle Ages, and many versions of the manuscript exist in various museums.

One of the other notable things about Isidore is his family. His parents died early in the life of Isidore and his siblings, but all four children became saints; three became bishops. His older brother Leander has been mentioned, but not the rest. A brief look at his family next time.

John of Garland

John of Garland (c.1180 - c.[at least] 1252) was an English grammarian and poet. (He wrote a poem about a recording demon.) Despite his English origin, he spent most of his life in France, first in Paris in 1202 to study, then at the University of Toulouse.

He left Toulouse around 1232 when the Cathars re-asserted themselves and university professors stopped being paid. He fled to the University of Paris, where Roger Bacon heard him lecture. It was this time in Paris that gave him his surname: he explains it is from the Rue Garlande in the neighborhood of the University.

There are over two dozen of his writings known (there are a few titles we know of, but have no extant copies). One was his Dictionarius (shown here), which was not a dictionary as we know it, but a textbook that attempted to teach Latin to French students at the University of Paris. Some credit Garland for the origin of the modern word "dictionary."

Besides works of instruction, he wrote poetry such as the Epithalamium beatae Mariae Virginis (“Bridal Song of the Blessed Virgin Mary”) and his account of the crusade against the Cathars, De triumphis ecclesiae (“On the Triumphs of the Church”). His hostility toward heresy was extended to Jews. To quote an author who wrote about this topic:

Although he never denied the possibility that conversion to Christianity could redeem the Jews, he thought it unlikely they would come over to the Catholic faith or remain steadfast in the religion. His invective was extreme by the standards of the time but was influential in that it appeared in many of his pedagogical works for adolescents and young men at the universities. [Journal of Medieval History, Vol.48, Issue 4]

Despite his time in France, his numerous writings were very popular in England, and were printed and re-printed in the 14th and 15th centuries.

Curiously, there was a second John of Garland who lived and wrote about the same time; this one was a music theorist, and will be our next topic. 

How the Normans Changed Our Language

Many of you already know about the Norman Invasion of 1066 when William the Conqueror became ruler of England and the Anglo-Saxons within. The intersection of two cultures will always cause linguistic borrowing, no matter how protective one of them may be (even the French say "hot-dog"). When major changes in society take place, we can expect major changes in language.

In truth, the injection of Norman French vocabulary probably amounted to fewer than 1000 words. They were not random words, however, but words whose presence "reflect[s] the ‘superiority’ of the French culture" to use the words of one scholar. Words like noble, dame, servant, minstrel come from French, as do estate, government, duke, madam, sir.

Even outside of the upper classes, the Norman French words introduced in England are still with us in all walks of life and careers.

Thanks to the Norman influence, we gave ecclesiastical terms clergy, friar, prayer, and the word religion itself! In the legal profession, court, crime, judge and justice are used daily. The military still uses general, sergeant, army, regiment, and siege. A pupil can go to an art lesson and sit in a chair to learn about color or ornament. 

True, some of the words came through French ultimately from Latin, but we cannot know that English would have ultimately gained them otherwise. Or would they? There were two major French dialects that influenced English at different times; there was a second influx of Central French vocabulary in the 13th century, further adding to—and maybe confusing?— the English language.

For instance, Latin caballus (horse), led to Norman French cavalier, but Central French chevalier, which is why in Modern English we have not only cavalier and chevalier, but also cavalry and chivalry. Latin canalis (channel) turned into Norman French canal and Central French chanel, so now we have both canal and channel.

Another telling set of Anglo-Saxon vs. Norman French terms comes when we look at livestock. Anglo-Saxon peasants (peasant is French, but from the 15th century) raised cattle and pigs, but when those animals become food and are served at a table, they are dined on by Norman masters as beef and pork.

But these were more subtle changes than some deliberate actions taken by the Normans to show superiority. I'll talk about Norman culture tomorrow, and what they did to "show off."

Modern Old English

There's an episode of The West Wing in which Bartlett asks a retired English teacher if she made her students "read Chaucer in the original Old English."

Sigh.

Paralleling the theme of yesterday's post, Chaucer's Middle English is practically "Early Modern English." Middle English on the page would be recognizable to many, although if they hear it pronounced it would probably be difficult to discern, and Chaucer gave us many familiar words.

Old English presents more difficulty, but our connection to it is very strong. Also known as Anglo-Saxon , it can be called Old English because it is recognizable, if you look carefully. In the opening lines of Beowulf, for instance, you can discern that:

Dena = Danes
dagum = days
cyning = king
threatum = threat
thas/that = that
him = him
gōd = good

The Lord's Prayer begins:

Fæder ūre þū þe eart on heofonum

Father our you who art in Heaven

Obviously there has been evolution, but there are many nouns that have changed little in 1000+ years:

God, mann, heaofon, eorðe, weorold, lif, lufu, word, weorc, dæg, hand, cynn
God, man, heaven, earth, world, life, love, word, work, day, hand, kin

There are also many everyday verbs that have changed little in 1000+ years:

sittan, secan, healdan, beran, giefan, cuman

sit, seek, hold/held, bear, give, come

Of the 1000 most commonly used words in day-to-day Modern English, 83% come to use from Old English. Much of the rest of our vocabulary is also from Old English. In the historical development of the English language, Old English is con sided to be used from about 500CE to about 1100, and Middle English from 1100 to about 1500. Instead of a slow evolution from Old to Middle, however, there was one linguistically catastrophic event that pushed Anglo-Saxon "over the edge" and forced it to change. That's a story for next time.

Medieval Pronouns

Medieval scholars from very early on were fascinated by grammar and analyzed it and language endlessly, trying to figure out how a word related to the thing the word signified.

Even as scholars were "complicating" things, English was becoming simpler, more streamlined. As an inflected language, for instance, English had various forms of pronouns depending on where in the sentence the pronoun was working at the time. (We still do this, but with fewer versions.)

Hwæt, I mean "Hey!" We even had a dual form when referring to just "we two" or "you two." Plurals used to be more interesting that way. (I like this, and would bring it back if I could when talking about me and my spouse versus other couples.) The plural "you" eventually replaced the singular "thou"; this was possibly a courtesy thing: plural forms of dress toward a single person seemed to be used as a sign of respect, as if the person were "more" than just "a" person. King Lear uses the plural "you" when praising Cordelia, but "thou" when speaking as her father to his daughter.

Old English also had a gender neutral pronoun, "man." It would be used the same way we now use "one," as in "I got vaccinated and boosted, as one does." It got associated with the masculine forms and disappeared.

Grammarians of more recent centuries tried to "lock down" singular vs. plural, the same way Webster tried to "lock down" American English spelling as distinct from British English. (The founder of Quakerism, George Fox, in 1660 labeled anyone who used "you" as a singular pronoun rather than "thou" was an idiot.) This created unnecessary confusion among speakers who used language in perfectly natural and understandable ways. The most prominent example of this is in the use of plural pronouns to denote singular subjects.

In 1794, an essay by three women in the New Bedford Medley used "they" as a singular, deliberately (they later had to explain) to conceal gender. A later to the editor criticized this as doing no ‘honor to themselves, or the female sex in general.’ They replied, challenging the mansplainer to come up with a better pronoun.

But "they" already was the better pronoun, and had been so for a long time. "They" was used in 1375 to refer to a singular person in the line "Each man hurried ... till they drew near ... where William and his darling were lying together."

So let us embrace "they" and its variants as useful pronouns for singular subjects following a 650-year-old tradition, and (in the words of Eomer to Eowyn) "think no more on it."

But what you should be wondering about is these men hurrying to "where William and his darling were lying together." What's that about? I've got a story to tell you next time!

To be Flemish

The term "Flemish" has been used since the 1300s to refer to a certain group of people. What does it mean to be Flemish?

The word "Flemish" was first seen in print c.1325 as flemmysshe, although Flæming had been around since at least 1150, meaning "from Flanders."  Flanders was originally a small territory around Bruges, established in the 8th century. Flanders now is the Dutch-speaking northern part of Belgium. The Flemings currently make up about 60% of the Belgian population.

Is there a Flemish language? The Flemish language is sometimes called Flemish Dutch, or Belgian Dutch, or Southern Dutch. In the illustration of Belgium to the left, the dark green area is where Dutch is spoken, the light green area is mostly French-speaking. (There is a small German area on the far right, and the lighter spot among the dark green is Brussels itself, where both Dutch and French have official status.

In 1188, Gerald of Wales (a historian mentioned, among other places, here) described the Flemings as:

a brave and sturdy people […] a people skilled at working in wool, experienced in trade, ready to face any effort or danger at land or sea in pursuit of gain; according to the demands of time and place quick to turn to the plough or to arms; a brave and fortunate people.

Gerald knew about them not because he traveled to the continent, but because many Flemings left Flanders due to population growth and the need for more land, many ending up in Scotland. In fact, the surname Fleming is fairly common these days, mostly because of Flemish families in Western Europe.

Flemings are even mentioned in the Peasants' Revolt of 1381, in a reference that raises its own set of questions, but we can talk about that tomorrow.

English-Irish Hybrids?

 

When King Edward III sent his son Lionel as viceroy of Ireland, there were issues on the agenda regarding the presence of the English in Ireland. Many English had been living in Ireland for generations, and they were, shall we say, "going native":

Whereas at the conquest of the land of Ireland, and for a long time after, the English of the said land used the English language, mode of riding and apparel, and were governed and ruled, both they and their subjects called Betaghes*, according to the English law, ...; but now many English of the said land, forsaking the English language, manners, mode of riding, laws and usages, live and govern themselves according to the manners, fashion, and language of the Irish enemies; and also have made divers marriages and alliances between themselves and the Irish enemies aforesaid...

This is the opening of the Statutes of Kilkenny, addressing the grave concern that English folk were acting more like the Irish in whose land they were living. Established by Lionel in 1366, the 35 statutes were intended to keep the English true to their heritage. Some samples follow.

II. Also, it is ordained and established, that no alliance by marriage, gossipred**, fostering of children, concubinage or by amour, nor in any other manner, be hencefoth made between the English and Irish of one part, or of the other part; and that no Englishman, nor other person, being at peace, do give or sell to any Irishman, in time of peace or war, horses or armour, nor any manner of victuals in time of war; 

III. Also, it is ordained and established, that every Englishman do use the English language, and be named by an English name, leaving off entirely the manner of naming used by the Irish; and that every Englishman use the English custom, fashion, mode of riding and apparel, according to his estate; and if any English, or Irish living amongst the English, use the Irish language amongst themselves, contrary to the ordinance, and thereof be attainted, his lands and tenements, if he have any, shall be seized into the hands of his immediate lord, until he shall come to one of the places of our lord the king, and find sufficient surety to adopt and use the English language, and then he shall have restitution of his said lands or tenements, his body shall be taken by any of the officers of our lord the king, and committed to the next gaol, there to remain until he, or some other in his name, shall find sufficient surety ... 

The desire to create an Irish-English Apartheid was so remarkable, it is worth looking at more examples tomorrow.

*A note on "Betaghes": the word come from Old Irish bíattach "providing food," and refers to those workers who provided food for the ruling class.
**A note on gossiprede: the noun gossip referred to a close friend or confidant; rede means advice or counsel. The English and Irish were not allowed to be partners in any manner.

The Iberian Melting Pot

A few days back, Ladino was mentioned in the first post about the Toledo School of Translators. I described it parenthetically as Judaeo-Spanish and left it at that. After 1492, when Jews were expelled from Castile and Aragon, it spread throughout the known world. It is still spoken today by Sephardic minorities, recognized as a minority language in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and in 2017 was formally recognized by the Royal Spanish Academy. Ladino is just one part of a larger topic to me, the blending of two cultures, which prompts me to address Mozarabic culture.

"Mozarab" is likely from the Arabic musta 'rib, which is most easily translated as "to make oneself similar to Arab." Medieval writers used the term "Mozarabic" to refer to Christians living in the Iberian Peninsula which had been steeped in Arabic and Islamic culture. The earliest example we have is from 1026CE, in a land dispute between monks of San Ciprian de Valdesalce and three muzaraves de rex tiraceros (royal silk workers). By 1085 Mozarab was more common, being used to mean Christians who lived under Muslim rule, adopting their customs and language.

The point is that Arabs, Jews, Christians, and Mozarabs were able to coexist on the Iberian Peninsula for centuries. The multilingualism among many individuals that resulted from this coexistence made the location ideal for scholars from all over to come to learn from sources in other languages. The Archbishop establishing the Toledo School of Translators was an original idea, but not a surprising one, considering the resources at hand.

It would be unfair, however, to neglect telling you that some Christian scholars traveled to Iberia to learn to read the Koran well enough to be able to write polemics against it. In turn, as Roman law became increasingly irrelevant in Iberia, the non-Muslims had to deal with Sharia law. But that's a topic for next time.

The Toledo School of Translators

In the beginning of the 12th century, European science lagged behind Arabic scholarship, in many ways because early Greek texts had not made the transition to Western Europe, but were accessible by Arabic scholars in the Eastern Mediterranean, particularly their association with the Byzantine Empire. In the mid 12th century, the Archbishop of Toledo, a French Benedictine named Francis Raymond de Sauvetât (fl.1125-52), established the Toledo School of Translators at the Cathedral of Toledo to correct this lack.

The archbishop assembled a team that included Jewish scholars, Madrasah teachers, Cluniac monks, and Mozarabic Toledans.

The goal was not just to make Arabic learning available to the Latin-speaking west. Arabic texts were translated also into Hebrew and Ladino (Judaeo-Spanish). Examples are works by Maimonides, Ibn Khaldun (considered the originator of studies that would evolve into sociology and economics), and the physician Constantine the African.

The school was well-organized, and as a result we are aware of many of the translators who worked there. Gerard of Cremona was not the only noteworthy translator. John of Seville (fl.1133-53) was one of the chief translators into Castilian, working closely with Dominicus Gundissalinus, the first appointed director of the school.

The importance of Toledo for Western European scholarship cannot be underestimated. The University of Paris was the seat of the Condemnations of Paris: between 1210 and 1277, they were enacted to restrict teaching that were considered heretical. Without Toledo, who knows how long it might have taken for Europe to gain access to so much knowledge?

The school had two chief periods of activity. Tomorrow I'll talk about the second, and the importance of Castilian.

Gerard of Cremona x 2

Gerard of Cremona (1114-1187CE) was an important translator of Arabic texts into Latin. Born in Cremona in northern Italy, he went to Toledo in the Kingdom of Castile because he desired to learn more about Ptolemy. Why did an Italian travel to Spain to learn about a Greek? Because Ptolemy's writings, although the man and his importance were known to Europe, were not available except in Arabic translations from the Greek.

Why Toledo? We'll delve into that more deeply tomorrow. For now, know that Gerard learned Arabic sufficiently that he not only translated Ptolemy's Almagest, the definitive work on astronomy until it was replace by Copernicus, but also he is credited with translating a total of 87 Arabic works.

Many of them were Arabic translations of Greek originals. Gerard's work made available to Latin readers works by Archimedes, Aristotle, Euclid's Elements of Geometry, and Arabic works on algebra and astronomy. He also edited the Tables of Toledo, a compilation of astronomical data.

There was a second Gerard of Cremona, however, and some of the 87 works attributed to Gerard might have been translated by Gerard, if you follow. This second Gerard was working in the 13th century, and seems to be the translator of medical works, whereas the first concentrated on astronomy and science. Roger Bacon's access to Al-Kindi's work, which would have been after 1240, is likely to be due to the second Gerard. Modern scholarship on the work of Gerard points out that many of the words he uses in his Latin translations are still used today; diaphragm, orbit and sagittal are examples. (To be fair, some of the modern scholarship also suggests that his translations look like the work of a hurried graduate student.)

But back to Toledo. In the 12th and 13th centuries, there was a robust Toledo School of Translators. I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

Codex Cumanicus

When Catholic missionaries in the Middle Ages went to a new land, how did they deal with language barriers? They had to make their own lexicons, or find one made by someone who went there before them.

The Codex Cumanicus, found in the Library of St. Mark in Venice, includes a language guide to the Cuman language, spoken by the Turkic nomads of Western Eurasia. As early as the 11th century, Hungary and Italian city-states such as Genoa attempted to open trade routes with the region, and understanding the language became an important goal.

The Codex was probably assembled in the 12th or 13th centuries. I say "assembled" because it is a collection of various documents clearly created by different writers. It can largely be divided into two sections: the "Italian" section which is a glossary of the Cuman-Kipchak language and Italo-Latin words, as well as Persian; and a "German" section, which includes several religious texts translated into Latin and Middle High German.

It was important to teach the natives how to pray in their own language. The Paternoster ["Our Father"] in the Codex reads:

Atamız kim köktesiñ. Alğışlı bolsun seniñ atıñ, kelsin seniñ xanlığıñ, bolsun seniñ tilemekiñ – neçik kim kökte, alay [da] yerde. Kündeki ötmegimizni bizge bugün bergil. Dağı yazuqlarımıznı bizge boşatqıl – neçik biz boşatırbız bizge yaman etkenlerge. Dağı yekniñ sınamaqına bizni quurmağıl. Basa barça yamandan bizni qutxarğıl. Amen!

Some of the Cuman words you can learn from this lexicon are:
tizgi tiz - knee
bitik bitiv - book, writing
sag sav - healthy
kyeg kyv - bridegroom
yag yav - fat
tag tav - mountain
ekki eki - two

It also includes riddles:
"The white kibitka [a carriage] has no opening." (an egg)
"My bluish kid at the tether grows fat." (ripening melon)
"Where I sit is a hilly place. Where I tread is a copper bowl." (a stirrup)

The Codex is a mere curiosity now, the languages involved having changed radically over the years.

The Name Glastonbury

Glastonbury is a small town in Somerset, England, that has been inhabited since Neolithic times. A recent post discussed the discovery of early medieval glass-making furnaces at the site of the now ruined Glastonbury Abbey. This prompted some to point out to me that Glastonbury "must have been known" for glass production—it is "right there in the name." Let us address that.

Remains of the nave of Glastonbury Abbey

In his book The Flowering Hawthorn, Hugh Ross Williamson tells the story of St. Collen. Collen was a 7th century hermit who took up residence at what is now Glastonbury. Williamson relates how the saint encountered Gwyn, King of the Fairies, in a magical glass castle on Glastonbury Tor. Rejecting the fairies' offer of food and drink, he cast holy water on them, causing all to vanish. Numerous versions of this story exist, but Williamson's 1962 book is the only version that introduces glass as the material involved. As a source for the site's name, this is not reliable.

William of Malmesbury refers to its earliest name as Ynys Witrin, which some translate as "Isle of Glass" based on the fact that English "vitreous" comes from Latin "vitrum" meaning "glass." "Isle of Glass" would more properly be Ynys Gwydr, however. "Witrin" is a puzzle, but no serious scholar thinks it is from Latin for "glass." (The "Isle" makes sense because, in earlier times, higher sea levels turned some hilly areas into islands.) Malmesbury does suggest that the place was named for someone named Glast. Since the first recording of the name is Glestingaburg, the place of Glestinga. No one knows exactly to what Glestinga refers.

But it's not about glass.

The @

We note with sadness the passing of Ray Tomlinson on 7 March 2016, whose name and history are unknown to the general populace but whose innovation is used hundreds of millions of times each day by folk on every continent. Ray Tomlinson, while working as an engineer in Boston, in 1971 was tasked with figuring out uses for the new ARPANET.  He invented a way to send a message from one computer to another; today we call it email. While figuring how to keep, in a line of text, the recipient separate from the address, he chose the @ on his keyboard, since it was used for little else. One article eulogizing Tomlinson said that the @ would probably have fallen out of use and off of keyboard layouts if not for him.

Of course, it was used before Tomlinson to designate a rate, such as "1 apple @25¢."

But...where did it come from?

To the left we see it in a record of a shipment of wheat from Castile to Aragon in 1448. There it was an abbreviation of Spanish arroba, meaning "a quarter" and being equivalent to 25 pounds of weight.

One theory holds that its use in other countries derived from a monastic scribal abbreviation to save space, reducing Latin ad [at, toward, by, about] to an a with a lower-case d curving around it. This would save ink and expensive parchment.

The earliest manuscript in which we find it, however, is a real puzzle. In a 1345 Bulgarian copy of the Greek Manasses Chronicle, a history written by Constantine Manasses (c.1130-c.1187), we find the word "Amen" written as "@men." Why it would be used for an upper-case "a" is unknown. Clearly, the symbol was a known figure that the audience was expected to understand.

In English we call it the "at" sign or symbol, but other languages have different names for it. French, Spanish and Portuguese call it arroba or arobase, a unit of weight (already mentioned). But other countries have more colorful names. Norwegians see a "pig's tale"; Hungarians see a "worm"; it is a "duckling" in Greek and a "rose" in Turkish.

Grazing Rights

In England there are still many "Commons" that are accessible by locals for grazing their animals. Their origin can be summed up in simple terms:

Farmers who owned animals needed to have somewhere to graze them. In the early medieval period there was plenty of waste land which could be used for grazing. But later on more people [...] needed more food. More waste land was ploughed up for arable crops, and it became necessary to limit the number of animals that could be grazed. [source]

The Modern English word "stint"—meaning to be frugal about something, or to limit one's access—originally referred to the limitations put on how much grazing each tenant could enjoy.

In the Middle Ages, the land on which many grazed their animals was part of their lord's estate. Only the farmers who were tenants on his land were allowed to graze their animals there. Outsiders trying to graze their animals could be hauled into court and fined.

It was not just open land that could be used for grazing. Once the fields were cleared, animals were allowed to graze on the stubble. There were rules, so that no one had a head start on this grazing. In one instance, the church would ring its bell when the harvest was done and grazing was allowed. Grazing could continue until 15 October, when the land had to be prepared for the spring planting. Once crop rotation was being practiced, there was always a fallow field that animals could be put on afterward.

One scholar believes that commons were a tradition begun in neolithic times, and maintained during the era of Roman Britain. She believes the commons were places where communities not only grazed beasts:

Post-medieval folklore suggests that these meetings may have been accompanied by games and competitions, the making of marriages and other formal agreements between groups, and opportunities to catch up between members of extended families. [source]

There are still many commons in England today, maintained as part of English tradition.

The Leiden Glossary

You can get your own copy here

The Leiden University Library in the Netherlands, founded in 1575, was an important part of the Enlightenment (late 17th to early 18th century), due to its enormous collection of texts that include 2500 medieval manuscripts. One of their medieval manuscripts, the Leiden Glossary, preserves a document from 9th century England that might otherwise be lost to us.

A "glossary" is a collection of "glosses," or explanations of a word or term. The Leiden Glossary contains glosses and commentaries by two priests and scholars, Adrian of Canterbury and Theodore of Tarsus (mentioned here), who were both at St. Augustine's Abbey in Canterbury.

The 48 chapters are lists of sayings and phrases used by Adrian and Theodore in their teaching, as well as commentaries they made on other works: think of it as a teacher's handout to his students so they don't have to take notes. There are, for instance, 8 chapters by Theodore with glosses on the "Pastoral Care" of Pope Gregory I (Gregory has been mentioned here).

There are also glosses from different people. For instance, there are three glosses on the same subject of the Historia Ecclesiastica ["History of the Church"] of Eusebius. The three are of differing quality, as if the book records the attempts by three different scholars—maybe students— to explain the passages in Eusebius. One of them echoes a different commentary found elsewhere that is known to be by Aldhelm, so it may have been Aldhelm himself who contributed it to the Leiden.

The Leiden is a mixture of glosses in Latin and Anglo-Saxon, another indication that the original glossary must have come from England. The Leiden Glossary was made in the library at the Abbey of St. Gall, presumably from that original. One of the things that we learn collaterally from the Leiden Glossary—because of the manuscripts about which the glosses have been written—is that the library at St. Augustine's Abbey must have been extensive. Alas, it did not survive the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII.

Weird Alphabets

Even those of us who have studied some classical Greek would be surprised when first running across a pattern/practice called antistoichia [Greek (roughly): "standing opposite in pairs"]. We drilled ourselves to learn the alphabet by memorizing lines of five letters each:

alpha, beta, gamma, delta, epsilon

zeta, eta, theta, iota, kappa 

But this was not always the standard order. In the antistoichia pattern, the order of words in a lexicon (such as Suidas') might follow the order of the spelling of sounds. Words that begin with alpha+iota as a diphthong, for instance, would be a separate entry to follow words that are spelled with alpha, even if they included alpha+iota, because they sounded like a different letter.

For instance, a modern English alphabetized encyclopedia or lexicon would order the following words thusly:

A
aardvark
absent
Aida (the opera, where the "a" and "i" are pronounced separately)
air
aisle
apple

B
bad
bed
bid 

The antistoichia ordering, since, "aisle" had two vowels making their own sound and "Aida" is two vowels that are pronounced separately, would order that list thusly:

A
aardvark
absent
Aida
apple 

AI
air
aisle

B

bad
bed
bid

This can throw off reading of partial manuscripts unless the researcher is familiar with the old practice and can adjust expectations accordingly.

"Grammar" "School"—Part 1 of 2

When we think of the history of schools, we imagine an unbroken line of buildings and teachers and groups of pupils sitting on chairs or benches or stools, and our imagination stretches back through a more and more primitive setting. That is, we think of the medieval school as visually similar to the modern classroom, but with less technology, simpler furniture, etc.

An understandable image, but not accurate.

For instance, classes at Oxford 700 years ago would not be recognizable to us. The master would probably be visiting his pupils in a room rented by them, or at his house. Furniture would not be present—no one was going to own that many chairs or stools, or even benches. They would stand together and talk.

We need to alter slightly our use of the word "school" for this context. Nowadays we use it to refer to the location or building. Just as "home is where the heart is," however, "school" was simply the gathering itself of a master and a pupil or pupils. The word school, from the Greek schola, ultimately relates back to "leisure." School (as the Greeks would say of arts in a civilization) is only possible when there is the time to cease toil and discuss higher aspirations. Early references to "school" (such as in Bede) make clear to us that it is not clear that a building is involved, just an intent to provide instruction.

Now what about "grammar"? I attended grammar school, and still use the phrase, although there was very little grammar involved. Why do we call them that? We'l look at that in Part 2.

The Great Vowel Shift

Why it happened, and why it happened the way it did, are still hotly contested. Also, there are no images for it that don't themselves require an essay to explain, so this post could make a dull subject even duller. Let's begin.

Starting about 1350, pronunciation of English started to change. Not all pronunciation; mostly the long vowels that were stressed in the word. Pronunciation of vowel sounds depends on the relative positioning of the tongue and lips and palate (remember, I am simplifying). To put it another way: how your mouth forms the space in which the sound resonates determines pronunciation of the vowel sound. What happened during the Great Vowel Shift is that the pronunciation of those vowels moved upwards and backwards in the speaker's throat.

What did this sound like? Without teaching you the International Phonetic Alphabet*, we will try a few examples. The Modern English name would have been pronounced by Chaucer to sound like "na-ma" and by Shakespeare as "neem"; Modern English root would have been "ro-ta" to Chaucer and "rowt" to Shakespeare.

There were exceptions. For instance, "ea" took a different path, depending on the consonants around it. It was long, but it shortened when followed by consonants such as "d" and "th"; so we have "ea" sound like short "e" when "ea" shows up in Modern English dead, head, breath and wealth instead (<—there it is again) of sounding "longer" as in great and break.

Consonants stayed the same, although "silent letters" did develop later. Chaucer would have pronounced "knife" something like "ka-nife"; that is, both consonants would have been pronounced; it was later that we got lazy and stopped bothering with the "k" in "knife" and "knowledge."

(Okay, here's a picture)

So why did it happen? The most common theory is that social mobility after the Black Death brought people from all over England together in the London area where changes were caused by people organically blending the many dialects. There may also have been an attempt to distance England culturally from France. 1359-60 saw a major military conflict between the two, and in 1362 the law courts of London decided to switch from French to English. The original pronunciation of the long vowels was very "continental." The GVS took pronunciation further away from that similarity with the continent (remember that much of the English vocabulary at this time had come in with the Norman Invasion).

The sad part is that England had become a literate culture before the GVS was done. Printing was standardizing spelling even as pronunciation was going through its evolution. Therefore, the pronunciation of words moved well beyond their original spelling, creating issues for schoolchildren and non-native speakers for centuries to come.

*Which, to be honest, would require me to learn it first.

Not One Iota of Difference

Iota, the smallest thing in the Greek alphabet, with the reputation for being ... the smallest thing.

Even people who don't know a bit of Greek know the phrase "not one iota." Where did that phrase come from, and does its origin belong in a blog post about the Middle Ages? A week ago, I would have said "No." But now—if you've been reading faithfully—you have the background you need to understand better the impact of this phrase.

The complete phrase is "it makes not one iota of difference," and believe it or not, it is tied to the Arian heresy. One of the problems Arius had with what became conventional Christianity was the nature of Jesus vs. God the Father. Arius and his followers believed that Jesus had a separate existence and was subordinate to the Father. During the Council of Nicaea, Arius argued with others over the word homoousios (Greek 'homo'=same + 'ousios'=substance). This is the word that was translated into the Latin consubstantialem in the Nicene Creed, translated into English as "one in being." Arius argued for heteroousios ('hetero'=other).

The Trinity Shield; Arian or not?

After Nicaea and the defeat and outlawing of Arianism, a subset of Arius' followers modified their position and were willing to say that the Son and the Father were, not the same substance, but similar. The word they proposed to explain this was homoiousios ('homoi'=similar). These people are called the "Semi-Arians."* The addition of that single letter satisfied them; it did not, however, satisfy the strict Trinitarians, who refused to change. This gave rise to the phrase "it makes not one iota of difference."

Or did it? There really is no evidence for that origin, although it sounds good, and sufficiently obscure and scholarly that no one wants to argue with it.

Some try to tie this into Matthew, 5:18:

For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. [English Standard Version]

For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. [New Revised Standard Version]

The argument for this origin (I guess) is that an iota is the smallest imaginable amount of difference, or the smallest written bit of the law, and even that will/must not alter before the end comes.

There may be a simpler reason for the saying, however, that goes back to the Greek language itself. The letter iota could be the second part of a diphthong, and the first vowel could be long or short. If the first vowel were long, the iota lost strength and ceased to be pronounced, but in written Greek it was still added as a subscript below the preceding long vowel. So αι (alpha + iota) became ᾳ,  ηι (eta + iota) became ῃ. The iota, in some circumstances, became the least important letter, reduced in size as well as in the way it affected pronunciation. To me, this is a potential (and potent) origin story for an "iota of difference" being completely insignificant.

*By the way, Semi-Arianism is alive and well in 21st century America, apparently.

4 Stages of Gothic—History & Culture

[This is Part 1; the other 3 parts address Gothic Architecture, the Gothic Revival, and Fiction.]

From the Middle Ages until 1974, the Kings of Sweden claimed the title Rex Sweorum et Gothorum (King of Swedes and Goths). This was a very old title, connoting not control over the subculture begun in 1980s England, but the rule over a people that have long since been diluted from the European scene.

Current belief is that the various groups that are collectively (and perhaps erroneously) called "Goths" in classical and early medieval texts probably sprang from a single ethnic group that existed in the first millennium BCE. The word from which their name comes is related to the Geats of Beowulf fame, to Götaland and the island Gotland in southern Sweden, and of course lends itself to the tribes that were instrumental in the Fall of Rome: the Ostrogoths and Visigoths. Various sources, for instance the history Getica by the 6th century Roman Jordanes, tells us that Goths left Scandinavia in waves due to overcrowding and settled in various parts of eastern Europe. Eventually, they moved westward, attacking Byzantium and migrating as far as Crete and Cyprus. An attempt in 269CE to invade Italy was defeated by the Roman army, with heavy casualties on both sides. Two centuries later, however, the Goths would succeed in taking Rome.

The Goths were willing to absorb ideas from people they met. Their art was influenced by Greek and Roman styles. In turn, their methods of embedding gems and colored glass into objects made of gold was adopted by others and used for centuries.

Gothic alphabet and number symbols.

One idea they absorbed was Christianity. Bishop Wulfila (c.310-383) was a Greek-Goth Christian who fled with his followers to northern Bulgaria to escape persecution. There he developed the Gothic alphabet so that he could translate the Bible into the Gothic language. Although he managed to convert many Goths to Christianity, it was Arian Christianity. Arianism had been declared heretical, so when Arian Goths met other Christian groups, they were not always welcomed with open arms. In fact, some modern scholars believe Romans felt more threatened by the Arianism of the Goths than by the political changes that would result from conquest. As for Wulfila's alphabet and Bible: we have very few examples of Gothic writing. It is one of the earliest Germanic languages recorded, but it has completely died out and no modern languages are descended from it.

Although the Goths died out, however, their name endured.