The florid fancy which shows itself in bungalow names is also visible in those of eating-houses catering to the migratory trade. In 1939 Marguerite Cooke Goodner undertook a study of more than 4000 such establishments in fifteen Texas towns, ranging from Amarillo to Waco, and presented her findings as a thesis at the Southern Methodist University, Dallas.2 She found that the banal attempts at humor visible in Summer camp names showed in many of their names, e.g., Do Drive Inn, Snak-Shak, Chat-N-Nibble, Dime-a-Mite, Chat and Chew, Eatwell, Kool Kave, Elbow Room, Suits Us, Just-a-Bite, Goodie Goodie, Taste Rite and Tastee. About “thirty-four per cent. carried the names of the owners in some form,” e.g., Berry’s Thrifty Corner, Carroll’s Eat Shop, Jimmie’s Tamale House, Jerry’s Kitchen, Pete’s Hamburger Place, Pinkie’s Tin Shack and Irene’s Bar and Café.3 Miss Goodner reported that first names were most popular, as promoting “a bond of friendship and understanding.” “Men who are forced to eat day after day in commercial eating-houses,” she said, “are apt to seek the friendly establishment where they can call their host by his first name.” A feminine name, she added, was even more attractive, but in 1940 the Texas mores still frowned on the coupling of such a name with the word bar, though large numbers of the eateries employed young girls to serve both food and drink. The reappearance of place, an old American euphemism for barroom, was significant, but Miss Goodner did not record shoppe in eat shop, sandwich shop, etc. Mr. Don Bloch tells me4 that similar fanciful names are given to grocery-stores in Denver, e.g., Pay and Save, Sellrite, Save-a-Nickle, Rite Spot, Save-U-More, Best Yet and King Klean.
In the early days of the railroad it was common to give names to locomotives, and in recent years some of the roads have revived this custom, but it is no longer general. Whether or not the mellifluous names of Pullman cars will survive, now that the Pullman Company has been sawed in two by court order and the operating half turned over to a syndicate of the larger railroads, remains to be seen. But names for fast trains seem likely to go on; indeed, the introduction of stream-liners has promoted their invention. Some of them are merely gaudy, but others have no little charm, e.g., the Lark, which is given to a night train between Los Angeles and San Francisco, arriving in the morning, and the Flamingo, on the Atlantic Coast Line. So far as I know, the only discussion of such train names in print is in an article by Charles Angoff, published in the American Mercury in 1928.1 He lists, among others, the Chief of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe (now reinforced by a stream-lined Super-Chief), the Panorama Special of the Denver & Rio Grande, the Pine Tree Limited of the Boston & Maine, the Red Bird of the Chicago Great Western, the Sooner, of the Missouri, Kansas & Texas, and the Golden State Limited of the Southern Pacific. To these may be added the Hiawatha of the Chicago & Milwaukee, the South Wind of the Atlantic Coast Line, the Black Diamond of the Lehigh, the Rocky Mountain Rocket of the Rock Island, the Zephyr of the Burlington, the F.F.V. (first families of Virginia) of the Chesapeake & Ohio, the Royal Blue of the Baltimore & Ohio, the Argonaut of the Southern Pacific, the Twentieth Century Limited and Empire State Express of the New York Central, the Silver Meteor and Sun Queen of the Seaboard Air Line, the Royal Palm and Ponce de Leon of the Southern, and the decorously named Washington-New York expresses of the Pennsylvania – the Congressional, the Constitution, the Senator, the Speaker, the Judiciary, the Legislator, the Representative, the Executive, the Embassy and the President, with the Patriot and the Legion thrown in to stir the heart. The Pennsylvania has a Mount Vernon and an Arlington, the Chesapeake & Ohio a George Washington, the Seaboard a Robert E. Lee, the Norfolk & Western a Pocahontas, the New York Central a Commodore Vanderbilt and a Paul Revere, and the Lehigh a John Wilkes and an Asa Packer. During the tire shortage of World War II the Florida East Coast put on a Tire-saver. Express train is not an Americanism, for the English were using it in 1841, whereas it is not traced beyond 1849 in this country. But limited, which is traced by the DAE to 1879, probably is, and cannonball, traced to 1888, undoubtedly is.
The first Pullman cars bore numbers, and then letters, but the letters soon ran out, and the numbers conflicted with those of other railroad cars. The first to have a name was the Pioneer, which started out as Car A. It was hastily completed in 1865 for use in the train which bore Abraham Lincoln’s body on its long and eventful trip from Washington to Springfield, Ill. It cost $20,000 and was the first car built from top to bottom by George M. Pullman: its predecessors had all been converted day-coaches. When the Pullman Company took over the remains of the Wagner Company, in 1899, it was found that about 300 of the Wagner cars bore names duplicated by Pullmans. Richmond Dean, then a Pullman vice-president, was told off to get rid of this difficulty, and he did so by visiting the Chicago Public Library with a corps of clerks, and searching ancient history. The result was a rash of classical names for the Wagner cars, and for a number of years thereafter they astonished and enchanted the country. It was once widely reported that Mrs. Frank O. Lowden, the daughter of George M. Pullman, was in charge of naming the cars, at a fee variously estimated at from $1 to $100 apiece. There was no truth in this: they were actually named by the officials of the company, often following suggestions made by the railroads using them.
In 1943 the Pullman Company issued a revised list of its cars,1 and in 1944 a supplement followed.2 These documents showed cars named Ann McGinty, Arthur Brisbane, Babette, Beethoven, B’nai B’rith, Central Park, Chief Iron Tail, Chinatown, Civic Center, Diogenes, Eiffel Tower, Evening Star, Frugality, Game Cock, Gwladys, Huey (without the Long), Ibsen, Kentucky Home, La Boheme, Marco Polo, Milton H. Smith, Molasse (no final s), Night Glow, Okoboji, Roentgen, Skokie Club, Sunburst, Tsankawi, Umatilla, Vassar College, Wall Street, Wood Violet, Yvonne and Zeno. But in general, the list revealed only a feeble fancy. Whenever the company’s onomasticians hit upon a name that suggests a whole series they throw away their aspirin, give thanks to God, and work it for all it is worth. Thus, when one of them thought of calling a car after a Scotch glen there ensued a long row of names in Glen, now running to more than 130 numbers, and including such painfully un-Scotch forms as Glen Beach, City, Hollow, Rapids and Rio. Cascade produced almost as many, e.g., Cascade Bluff, Den, Elf, Gully, Moon, Whirl and Whisper, and so did Clover, e.g., Clover Bed, Colony, Gem, Nest, Plot and Veldt. The names in Mc are almost innumerable, and range from McGonigle and McGillicuddy to such curious forms as McCreadyville and McZena. The advantage of such serial names is that they serve to identify types of cars. Thus, nearly all the Mc cars are old-fashioned sleepers with twelve sections and one drawing-room, and all the Cascades are new models with ten roomettes and five double bedrooms.1 In 1937 the late Arthur Guiterman, a poet in large practise, was inspired by the Pullman nomenclature to a set of dithyrambs beginning as follows:
In peace unvexed by jolts and jars
I rise, with sundry aims,
On those palatial Pullman cars
That bear such lovely names
As:
Mark Twain Castor Zanzibar
Lake Pontchartrain John Jacob Astor L.Q.C. Lamar
Chief Gall Helicon Fort Dodge
Independence Hall Lake Pelican Senator Henry Cabot Lodge
Samuel Morse McTwiggan Vancouver
Chief American Horse Kate Douglas Wiggin And Hoover2
In the heyday of canals all the boats had names and some of them were alarming, e.g., Bluddy Pirate, Wild Irishman, Bridge-smasher and Larger Bier (lager beer).3 The boats have now deteriorated into barges, and most of them have only numbers, but the naming of larger craft goes on apace, and during World War II it put considerable strain upon the onomastic engineers and poets of the Maritime Commission. This was the plan finally adopted:4
Liberty ships
Liberty ships proper (EC-2s) were named “for deceased persons who made notable contributions to the history and culture of America, and for merchant seamen who lost their lives in the service.”
Liberty type hulls converted into colliers were named for major American coal seams
.
Victory ships
The first 34 were named for the United Nations, with the word Victory appended. The next 218 were named for American towns and small cities, e.g., Canton, O., Luray, Va., and Rushville, Ill., also with Victory added.1 The remainder were named after American colleges and universities, e.g., Calvin Victory, C. C. N. Y. Victory, Notre Dame Victory, Loyola Victory, Tuskegee Victory and Wesleyan Victory.
Standard type cargo vessels
C-1s were named for capes. C-2s for famous clipper ships, C-3s for birds, fishes and animals prefixed by Sea, and C-4s for the same prefixed by Marine.
Tankers
Coastal tankers (T-1s) were named for American oil-fields. T-2s were named variously – for American battles, for historic forts, settlements and trails, and for California missions. One series was named for California oil-fields with Hill in their names.
Miscellaneous cargo vessels
C1-S-D1s, made of concrete, were named for “deceased individuals who have made important contribution to the development of concrete and concrete engineering.”
N-3s, for coastal use, were named for captains of the clipper ship era.
C1-M-AV1s were given the names of various sailors’ knots.
Minor types
Concrete barges were named for minerals or chemical elements.
Wooden barges were named for trees.
V-2 tugs were named for American ports.
V-3 tugs were given names, both nouns and adjectives, “denoting strength.”
V-4 tugs were named for American lighthouses.2
The Maritime Commission built many vessels for the Army, the Navy, foreign governments and private owners, but had nothing to do with their naming. The Navy followed a system of naming its ships that goes back, in its essentials, to March 3, 1819, when Congress passed an act providing that “all ships of the first class … shall be called after the States of the Union, those of the second after the rivers, and those of the third after the principal cities and towns.” This act was amended on June 12, 1858, leaving the first two classes untouched,1 but giving the President the right to name third-class ships “as he may direct.” There were further amendments in 1908, one of them providing that no first-class battleship should be named “for any city, place or person until the names of the States shall have been exhausted,” and another allowing the President discretion in naming monitors. These rules are still followed by the Navy, but as new types of ships have come in it has had to seek new kinds of names for them. The schedule followed during World War II was as follows:2
Battleships
All are named for States.
Cruisers
For American cities, the capitals of American territories and possessions, and those territories and possessions themselves.
Destroyers
For “deceased persons in the following categories: Naval, Marine Corps and Coast Guard personnel who rendered distinguished service to their country; Secretaries and Assistant Secretaries of the Navy; members of Congress who were closely identified with naval affairs; inventors.”
Destroyer Escorts
For “personnel of the Navy, Marine Corps and Coast Guard killed by enemy action in World War II.”
Submarines
After “fish and denizens of the deep.”3
Mine layers
After monitors formerly on the Navy list.
Mine sweepers
After birds.4
Patrol vessels
After American cities and towns, and American territories and possessions.
Yachts
After ships formerly on the Navy list, gems, and with “logical and euphonious words.”
Colliers, repair ships and tenders
After characters in mythology. Aircraft repair ships were also named after “personnel associated with naval aviation” and destroyer tenders after “localities and areas of the United States.”
Ammunition ships
After volcanoes and with terms “suggestive of fire and explosives.”
Provision storeships
After astronomical bodies.
Cargo ships
After astronomical bodies or “counties in the United States.”
Aircraft ferries
After “historical places pertaining to aviation.”
Miscellaneous auxiliaries
After islands in the United States or in American territories and possessions.
Surveying ships
After astronomers and mathematicans.
Amphibious force flagships
After mountains in the United States or in its territories and possessions.
Hospital ships
With “synonyms for kindness” or “other logical and euphonious words.”
Net-laying ships
After monitors formerly on the Navy list.
Tankers
After the Indian names of rivers.
Transports
After the names of American counties, “places of historical interest, deceased commandants of the Marine Corps and deceased Marine Corps officers, signers of the Declaration of Independence, famous women of history, famous men of foreign birth who aided our country in her struggle for independence.”
Barrack-ships
After the names of American counties.
Transports fitted for evacuating wounded
After deceased surgeon-generals of the Navy.
Repair ships
After the names of island possessions.
Salvage ships
“Names descriptive of their functions.”
Submarine tenders
“Names of pioneers in submarine development; characters in mythology.”
Submarine rescue ships
Names of birds.
Ocean tugs
Names of Indian tribes.
Seaplane tenders
Names of straits, bays and inlets in the United States and its possessions.
Landing ships
Names of places of historical interest.
Miscellaneous vessels
Names of vessels formerly on the Navy list, and of animals.
Fuel oil barges
Oil-field terms.
Net tenders
Names of trees, or of Indian chiefs “and other noted Indians.”
Harbor tugs
“Names of Indian chiefs, other noted Indians, and words of the Indian language.”
In 1897 Prince Louis of Battenberg, then a captain in the British Navy,1 published a little book in which he discussed the names of British warships and of those of fifteen other countries, but not including Japan.2 In his preface he said that nearly all the names on the current British list had “a long record of past services, covering three centuries in some cases.” One ship, the Vesuvius, was the eleventh since 1693, and another, the Lion, was the fourteenth since 1546. The Dreadnaught of the time, a second-class battleship, launched in 1875, was the seventh since 1573. The revolutionary Dreadnaught of 1904, with its turbine engines, its speed of 21 knots, its ten 12-inch guns and its displacement of 17,900 tons, was the eighth. The English seem to follow no set system for the naming of their warships, but a glance at their Navy List is enough to show that they have a liking for saucy names, calculated to scare the foe, e.g., Furious, Terrible, Invincible, Powerful, Victory, Inflexible, Wildfire, Bulldog, Conqueror, Daring, Devastation, Haughty, Hercules, Hotspur, Intrepid, Aggressor, Thunder, Infernal, Shark, Wolf, Tiger, even Hyena.1 The Japanese, in their heyday, apparently preferred more romantic ones, e.g., Siranui (Phosphorescent Foam), Yakaze (Wind of an Arrow’s Flight), Natusio (Summer Tide), Urakeze (Wind in the Bay), Kasumi (Mist of Flowers), and Asagumo (White Cloud of the Morning).2
All naval ships are given nicknames by their crews, and some of those in use in the American Navy are picturesque and amusing. The cruiser Salt Lake City is the Swayback Maru, the battleship California is the Prune Barge, the battleship Tennessee is the Ridge Runner, the Idaho is the Spud Peeler, the
Milwaukee is the Milk Wagon, the Mississippi is Old Miss, the Missouri is Misery or Old Mo, the Nevada is the Cheer Up Ship, the Brooklyn is the Teakettle, the Dayton is the Blue Beetle, the Boise is the Reluctant Dragon, the Marblehead is Old Ironsides, the Brooklyn is the Busy B, the Cincinnati is the Can Do Ship, the South Dakota is Battleship X, the New York is the Old Nick, the Franklin is Big Ben, the Pope is Honest John, the Langley is the Covered Wagon, and the Guam is the Mighty G.3 One of the curious byways of homicidal nomenclature takes us into the names of battles, and history shows that the contesting peoples often call the same one by different names. Waterloo is Belle Alliance to the French and even to the Germans who fought with the English, and the battle which Grant called Pittsburg Landing became Shiloh to the Confederates and is now Shiloh to most other Americans. These differences were thus discussed by the Confederate General D. H. Hill in one of Century Magazine’s “Battles and Leaders of the Civil War” series:1
American Language Supplement 2 Page 85
