Manuscript Remains

A web blog devoted to reducing the white noise of modern life. I value Culture above the mainstream. Arthur Schopenhauer has been a major influence on my life (though I don't share his misogyny). In many ways I dedicate this blog to his memory.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Going Dutch: The Low Countries and their Curious Influence on the English Language

In the late 1600s, the Dutch participated in the 'Glorious Revolution', a quasi invasion-slash-change of the constitution in England. Without tripping and stubbing our toes on various political and historical facts let us say that it was initially fairly bloodless: William III of Orange Nassau overthrew King James II and with his wife, Mary II, took the reins of the mighty British Empire. Perhaps one might call the events of 1688 a bit of a hostile takeover or someone simply getting kicked out of the royal sandbox. Jimmy, you're out, Willy, your time to play. 

Unfortunately, the sun successively set on the seductive and lavish Dutch Golden Age of Culture. William III funded several exhausting wars, those against the Jacobites in Scotland, another in Ireland and of course, one had to get France somehow involved and riled up as well. And, as a result, within two decades, back in the king's home country of the Netherlands, the Dutch Republic was financially out of pocket despite being in a place of military security. Instead of money for art, funds were invariably funneled towards arms and this is why we don't have a succession of Dutch masters like Rembrandt, Vermeer, Frans Hals and Steen in the 18th century. 

Yet even before William III was even conceived, the Dutch had already invaded English Culture. In the 17th century, the language of the rising empire was already inundated with Middle Dutch words and this was due to previous invasions.

During the Norman conquest, 1/3 of William the Conqueror's army was from Flanders. And it didn't stop there. Between the 11th and up to the 17th century, a majority of Flemish refugees, many of them weavers and others skilled in textiles peacefully crossed the channel to make their home in England, Scotland and Wales. 

So this is why we have 'boss' from Middle Dutch baas. Of course times were always tough in the Medieval period and before we had 'Dutch courage', we had büsen which became our pejorative term for alcohol, hence 'booze'. (The word slurp, from slorpen, to sip, should also be mentioned as well as 'brandy', derived from brandewijn or 'burnt wine' and 'gin', from genever.)

From tubbe came 'tub', from bicken (to slash, attack), 'bicker' and bundel, obviously 'bundle' whereas Duffel is actually a town in Belgium and the original source for the cloth of the eponymous bags. My two favourite ones are boele (lover, brother) which eventually became 'bully' (not a lover nor brother) and blinken (to glitter) which became our 'blink'. It is quite lovely to think that when you are gazing at the eyes of your better half, when she quickly closes and opens her lids, that one is seeing her face 'glitter'.

Due to both England and The Netherlands maritime position, nautical terms, too, found their way into our language. 'Deck' from dec (covering), 'dock' (docke), 'freight' (vrecht or 'load'), 'skipper' (schipper or 'shipper'), 'sloop' (sloep), and so forth. To such a list one could also add 'yacht' (jaght or jaghtship, jagen, the Dutch and German word for hunt), 'buoy' (boei, 'to shackle') and 'cruise' (kruisen, to cross).

'Aloof' is bearing mention as lof is of a 'windward direction' and 'avast' is actually 'hold fast' (hou'vast). 'Aardvark', interestingly enough means earth (aard) pig (vark). Who knew?

We also get a few military terms from the Low Countries. 'Beleaguer' (16th cent. belegeren,'besiege') and 'bulwark' (bulwerk) and when you're on leave in the army, as an enlisted man you're on 'furlough' (verlof or 'to be off'). Most recently, the American 'bazooka' is Dutch for 'trumpet', bazuin which one could also connect to bassoon of Italian (bassone), French (basson) origin meaning 'deep'. So when firing a rocket or chewing the gum, we have the Dutch to thank for the word. 

The arts of Holland too influenced our English tongue. There is the Dutch painting term landskip derived from landscap (region) which, without really having to hazard a guess we know to be 'landscape'. Schets become our 'sketch' and ezel, Dutch for donkey became 'easel'. So when you visit the Rembrandhuis in Amsterdam, the structure holding the canvas in the artist's studio was once referred to as a domestic animal.

Bill Bryson, noted traveler author once wrote that he found the Dutch language to be 'a peculiar version of English.' It really isn't far from the truth when we consider all the words we've gained from the Low Countries. Even today, if you visit the northern climes of the Netherlands, the Frisians are said to speak a language similar to our early English. Maybe the reason we remember William the Conqueror and see William III's bloodless invasion as a portion of minor history is because the Dutch had already infiltrated the English language. The latter William was just taking over the reigns from his ancestors, no more, no less, the Dutch having already made their home in the English vocabulary to the point the so-called British of the late 17th century were already eating coleslaw (kolsla, cabbage salad), cookies (koekje, diminutive of koek, cake) and frolicking (vrolijk, to be joyful) when the news of his take-over had reached them.

All this knowledge. One can't help now but feel like a bit of a 'geek' (gek, fool). 

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