GEOGRAPHIC NOMENCLATURE.
REMARKS BY HERBERT G. OGDEN, GUSTAVE HERRLE, MARCUS BAKER, AND A. H. THOMPSON.
MR. OGDEN: It was expected that Professor Mendenhall would be with us this evening to address the society on the subject of Geographic Nomenclature but he is unavoidably absent, having been called to Philadelphia, and has requested me to represent him, and present to you an apology for his absence.
Professor Mendenhall has been greatly interested in this question since he assumed charge of the Coast and Geodetic Survey. Questions of orthography and nomenclature have been before him almost constantly, and the variety of views elicited in response to his inquiries confirmed him in the opinion that the subject is of serious import. He has had, of necessity, to decide a great many cases for publications which were being made: finally a long list relating to Alaska came from the Hydrographic office, which led to a discussion and the suggestion that a board should be formed consisting of representatives from the different departments and bureaus in Washington that were interested in this matter, and that were issuing maps, charts and other publications requiring geographic names. It is too true that the different bureaus are now using the same names spelled in different ways, sometimes different names for the same place, and the same name for different places; indeed, the confusion is so great you may even read publications relating to the same locality and at first not realize the fact.
The object that Professor Mendenhall had in view in organizing a board was to secure harmony; that all might come together; and that when a question arose between different bureaus it might be referred to this board to settle, with the concurrence of all. Such a board would also secure stability, as no bureau would undertake to make changes in names that have been accepted, as may now be the case when a bureau falls under new management, or the determination of the questions is referred to new officers without experience. This board, as proposed, was to be formed by representatives from the Hydrographic Office, Smithsonian Institution, War Department, Geological Survey, Coast and Geodetic Survey, Light-house Board, The National Geographic Society, Post Office Department, and the General Land Office. All these bureaus or departments gave their assent except the Post Office Department and the General Land Office; but we may hope that these departments will eventually be represented, when the practical usefulness of the board has been demonstrated by its decisions.
There are three, perhaps four classes of cases that cause the most trouble in geographic names. In the first class, those cases where we are certain of the name itself—that is, we agree in the pronunciation, but disagree in the orthography; in the second class, where there is no question as to the orthography, but where there is a question as to what name should be used—that is, several names are given to the same point, to the same body of water, or to the same island; in the third class, where there is no question as to the name or the orthography, but a question as to the place to which the name applies—that is, there is no dispute as to the name, but it is applied to different places; this class is sometimes modified by questions as to the geographical limits to which a name applies—that is to say, the area to be indicated by the name; for instance, some body of water or a range of mountains, and may be designated a fourth class.
To cite a few instances of these classes: we have the question of Wood's "Hole" and Wood's "Holl;" for many years it was called Wood's Hole, recently it would seem to be the conclusion that it should be called Wood's Holl; we formerly had "Hurl" Gate, and now "Hell" Gate; "Princess" Bay was at one time spelled "Prince's" Bay, the error arising, doubtless, from the pronunciation; we also have "Body's" Island or "Bodies" Island; we have a peculiar case on the North Carolina coast, "Pamplico" Sound has generally been used, now we have "Pamlico" Sound, legalized by the State legislature; on the coast of Virginia we have the case of "Metomkin," which has frequently been written "Metompkin" and "Matomkin;" in California we have Point Conception, whether it should be spelled with the "c," or with the "t," in the last syllable; we also have "Point Boneta" or "Bonita;" should Yaquina be spelled with one "n" or two ("nn"); Coos Bay, with "k" or "c." This name, I understand, is sometimes pronounced "Co-os," as though it had two syllables; if the spelling of this name was governed by the rules of the Royal Geographical Society the "K" would be used for the hard "C," but "Coos" has been adopted by the State legislature and will probably be retained. One of the most singular perversions is found in "Bering Sea;" the explorer wrote his name "Bering," and yet we find it is customary, almost everywhere, to spell it "Behring."
In the second class of cases, where we have different names for the same place, we may cite Bangs Island, at the entrance to Portland harbor; an effort was made not long ago to change this name on the Coast Survey charts to Cushing's Island, the evidence was so strong that an order was issued to effect the change, when the supporters of "Bangs" produced additional evidence and secured the retention of that name. On the coast of Florida we had two Saint Joseph's Bays, and a comparatively modern name, "Anclote Anchorage," was presented to take the place of a part of one of them, which led to designating the rest of the bay "Saint Joseph's Sound," Sound being more appropriate for the locality. We have also some notable instances on the Pacific coast, as "Cape Orford" or "Blanco;" "Cape Gregory" or "Arago;" "South Farallon" or "Southeast Farallon;" and in Alaska there are instances too numerous to mention.
In the third class of cases, the locality to which the name applies, we may cite "Isle-au-Haut" Bay and "East Penobscot" Bay, on the coast of Maine; "Hempstead" Bay, on the coast of Long Island, a bay which is almost filled with small islands, rendering it most difficult to satisfactorily define the limits; "Chincoteague" Bay, on the Jersey coast, is an instance of growth; it was at one time called "Assateague," and although "Assateague" was retained for many years as applicable to the upper part of the bay, it has finally been restricted to a very small cove in Assateague Island. On the Pacific coast there are a great many instances, possibly one of the most difficult relates to the limits of Admiralty Inlet, how far it extends into Puget sound? Again, to the northward, is what for years has been called "Washington" Sound, an effort is being made to change it to "Possession" Sound, the latter name, I believe, was once applied to a portion of the area; perhaps we shall eventually see both names on the chart. The difficulty of defining the limits to which a name applies may be experienced in dealing with "Hampton Roads," or "Tybee Roads;" apparently simple problems, but who will undertake to define the exact limits of these famous roadsteads?
These questions, even when stated in their simplest form, are oftentimes very complex, for several of the general classes I have referred to may be included in one question, and when we attempt to determine that which is best they become very perplexing. In seeking advice we are met with a variety of views; some will maintain that we should take the nick-names given by the fishermen; some prefer names that have been recognized independent of nick-names; some will abhor corruptions, while others prefer the corruptions, if expressive and in general use. The experts are very prone to hunting up the root, or, if necessary, to constructing one, and throwing out everything that will not conform with it. The fact that our country was settled by French, Spanish, and English, and that many names are derived from the Indian dialects, also causes peculiar difficulties in treating some sections. The rules of the Royal Geographical Society can be a great help, so far as they are applicable; they seem to have been used in the modern spelling of "Dakota"—for the man-of-war we had of this name some years ago, it was spelled "Dacotah," but in the name of the States recently admitted to the Union, "k" has been substituted for the hard "c" and the final "h" has been dropped. There is also great disagreement as to the propriety of the use of the possessive case; some will not admit it at all, others would like to drop the apostrophe and retain the "s" in certain cases for euphony: this is a question that requires special consideration in each case, as the omission of the possessive will sometime give the name a descriptive meaning not at all applicable to the locality or feature. The propriety of personal names is also questioned by many, and may lead to continued discussion in Alaskan nomenclature, where explorers and surveyors have been so liberal in bestowing new names on the same places. It would seem to be a good rule in selecting a new name to follow the old Indian custom of describing the place. An opportunity for an expressive nomenclature seems to have been lost in the north-west in transferring so many of our eastern names, instead of selecting new names from the rich native vocabularies.
As different bureaus may be governed by different principles, and may not even be consistent in their own rulings, through new principles that may come in by the frequent change of personnel, it has heretofore been impracticable to secure uniformity, and disputed questions have been carried along for years. The board that has been organized is in the direction of developing uniformity in the practice of all. It is no easy task, but if guided by a generous spirit, willing to yield a little here and there, its object may be successfully accomplished.
We cannot foresee to what extent the board will be called upon. It has not power to take the initiative; but we hope its rulings will prove acceptable; that it may establish a reputation that will be recognized by the people as well as by the departments interested in its organization; and that eventually rules may be recommended for the nomenclature of our own country that may be an acceptable guide in the determination of new names, as well as in the interpretation of those now in question.
MR. HERRLE: Any one conversant with the state of geographic nomenclature of a large part of the world cannot fail to appreciate the difficulties in the way of the establishment of a comprehensive and uniform system of writing geographic names, that would be acceptable to all nations using the Roman alphabet in their literature. But while some advance towards international uniformity has been made within the last five years, we are still very far from it; we may, however, at least rejoice in the prospect of the general acceptance of a uniform system in geographic orthography by all writing the English language.
I refer to the action of the British Hydrographic Office and of the Royal Geographical Society in 1885, when they adopted certain main principles to guide the orthography of geographic names, and thereby took an important and far-reaching step in the line of a reform which had already been too long delayed.
In France a reform in geographic nomenclature had been earnestly agitated by Édouard de Luze since 1880, and soon after the publication of the system adopted by the Royal Geographical Society, the Société de Géographie appointed a commission which, in 1886, reported a system for the guidance of French geographers.
In Germany, we also find individual attempts made (Egli, Kirchhoff, Ewald and others) to bring system into the orthography and pronunciation of geographic names, primarily with a view to secure uniformity in text books and in the teaching of geography in schools.
No doubt influenced by the action of the British and French geographic societies the Imperial German Hydrographic office in 1888 also established rules for guidance in its future publications.
We thus see three of the principal nations of Europe inaugurate a reform, the beneficial effects of which will not, however, become apparent until a sufficient time has elapsed, that is, until the British, French and Germans have had time to apply the rules in their publications, and particularly in the construction of new and in the correction of old charts. No reform of this nature can be carried through by the stroke of a pen, but a generation's life-time will be required to accomplish it.
The adopted rules which lay down a general phonetic principle only require, of course, perfection in details, so as to furnish an unerring guide in the treatment of names belonging to special languages.
If we compare the British, French and German systems, we can clearly see a gravitation towards uniformity in the spelling of foreign geographic names that are not originally written in the Roman alphabet. Each of the three systems contains important concessions to the others; the British, by adopting the continental vowel system, and the French and German, by representing certain phonetic values differently from the old way, so as to approach the British system. In the French system, this is particularly the case in regard to the letters ou, c, ch, g, q, th, tch, w and y, and in the German system in regard to the letters c, j, q, ch, sh and y.
There is very little doubt that English and French geographers will readily adopt the systems set up by their foremost geographic societies; but whether scientific Germany will be willing to follow in the wake of its Hydrographic Office, we will probably learn after the next meeting of the German Geographic Congress.
If we compare the British, French and German systems further, we find also a perfect agreement in the treatment of the geographic names of those nations that use the Roman alphabet in their literature, they differing only as to exceptions from the rules of old forms of names, which, through long usage, are held almost sacred. The spirit of conservatism tends to retard every reform, and this one makes no exception from the rule. It is, however, to be regretted that neither the British, nor the French, nor the Germans have set any fixed limit to permissible exceptions, leaving, apparently, everybody to decide for himself what is meant by "long usage."
If a radical departure from past usage is perhaps too objectionable to many, this much could be done at present to greatly reduce the list of exceptions, leaving it to the future to smooth over the remaining cases: let all names which are now written but slightly different from their national form and which are easily recognized in the latter form, be corrected, and extirpate all gross corruptions. Also lessen the number of exceptions in those foreign names which are readily understood when written in accordance with the adopted phonetic rules: as Kalkutta for Calcutta, Mekka for Mecca, Kutch for Cutch, Selebes for Celebes, Bonni for Bonny, etc.
Another notable agreement in the British, French and German Hydrographic Office systems is found in their declarations in regard to diacritical marks in the writing of foreign geographic names. The British say that a system which would attempt to represent the more delicate inflections of sound and accent would become so complicated as to defeat itself. They therefore recommend only the use of the acute accent to denote the syllable on which stress should be laid. The German Hydrographic Office has adopted the same view. The French Commission in its deliberations expressed decided opposition to the adoption of Lepsius' or any similar system, and finally adopted besides the "tilde" and "créma," only the accent "circonflex" and the "apostrophe," signs of which the two last are ordinarily employed in the writing of the French language. "In our country," the French commission says, "a native of the Normandy and one of the Provence do not employ exactly the same sounds in pronouncing, for instance, Marseille, Enghien, or Montrichard, and, in foreign lands, we find still greater diversity in this respect." Therefore, we should use diacritical marks with the greatest economy, and only when they are indispensable.
It is of course not to be expected that a certain school of geographers, who are in favor of the strict application to geographic names of a simplified form of Lepsius' standard alphabet, will acquiesce in this view, but it is to be hoped that all practical minded geographers will agree to reserve the extended use of diacritical alphabets for purely linguistic literature only.
In the meanwhile, the United States has not been idle, and the Hydrographer, Captain Henry F. Picking, U. S. N., has taken the initiative by the appointment of a board to consider and report a system of orthography for foreign geographic names for guidance in the compilation of the Hydrographic Office charts, sailing directions and notices to mariners, which as we know cover all parts of the world.
The Hydrographic Office, by its daily experience with the subject matter, is thus peculiarly fitted to inaugurate a reform, and it is hoped that the board, profiting by what the British, French and Germans have already done, will report rules, that may become generally satisfactory to American geographers.
In our own country the territory of Alaska needs special attention in regard to settling the orthography of its geographic names of Russian origin. Russian names have always been more or less of a bugbear in geographic literature, since so great a number of them appear in different forms. The difficulties of transcribing Russian names so as to reproduce the correct pronunciation are well enough understood. In the first place the Russian alphabet contains 36 letters, of which 12 are vowels and diphthongs, 3 are semi-vowels, and the balance, consonants. In this alphabet, there are 12 elements which have no exact equivalents in the English alphabet, and, on the other hand, there are 4 English sounds (j, w, x and h) not represented in the Russian alphabet. Hence, whatever system is employed, we can only hope to give the pronunciation approximately. Many of the Russian names found to-day in English and American maps and publications show, by the way in which they are rendered, an utter absence of knowledge of the grammatical construction of Russian on the part of those who originally transcribed them. There are few other languages in which case and gender play such an important part in the terminal inflections of proper names as in this great Slavonic idiom. Any one not conversant with the Russian declensions should not, therefore, attempt to transcribe Russian geographic names into English, as he will be sure to blunder. On Russian maps, for instance; Behring Strait reads, "Beringov Proliv;" Behring Sea, "Beringovo More;" Kamchatka Bay, "Zaliv Kamchatkii;" Herald Island, "Ostrova Gheralda;" etc.
By the by, I cannot exactly understand why the spelling of the name of Behring should, within the last few years, have been changed on American and English maps to Bering. The navigator of this name, Veit Behring, was a native of Germany, in the service of Russia, and it is safe to say that his name contained the letter h. Naturally, in transcribing his name into Russian, the h had to drop out, as that letter is missing in the Russian alphabet.
The excellent system of transcribing Russian names into English, published in a recent number of Nature1 having already been accepted by English and American representatives of various scientific institutions, it is greatly to be desired that English and American geographic societies should express their views of it at an early day. The system is easily brought in harmony with the general principles adopted by the Royal Geographical Society, by a simple declaration in regard to the diacritical marks by which, mainly for the purpose of facilitating correct re-transliteration of Russian names, the vowels i, i [with macron], i [with breve], e and é and the silent semi-vowels are sought to be distinguished in the written names. For the benefit of those unacquainted with the system of transliterating Russian, published in Nature, it is reprinted at the close of this paper.
1 February 27, 1890.
A few words more in regard to the treatment of the Russian geographic names found in Alaska. This territory will in the course of time contain a large English-speaking population, and its geographic names of Russian and Eskimo origin should, in a certain sense, no longer be classed by us under the category of foreign names.
The future official orthography of Alaska might, therefore, be treated liberally, that is to say, complicated spelling following from a strict transliteration might be simplified to a certain extent, as has been done with the spelling of many aboriginal Indian names.
Of the geographic nomenclature of Asiatic countries none has become so rapidly well known as that of the Japan Archipelago, and we can already now class Japan among the countries having an official geographic nomenclature in Roman character.
Within less than twenty years, the wonderfully progressive Japanese have established a geographic service for the survey of their domain, and a hydrographic service for the survey of their coasts and navigable waters. They have now published several hundreds of nautical charts, which are as good and practical as any published by other nations.
On those Japanese charts, which are based exclusively on their own surveys, the names are printed in the signs of the 'Kana' with the transliteration of the name in Roman character added. It is this feature which has materially helped us to a better and correct knowledge of their geographic names. Within the last few years the Romaji-Kwai2 has made immense progress, and I understand that the society's system forms already part of the instruction in a number of schools in Japan. Hence, we may look forward to the day when Japanese books printed in Roman characters will supersede, to a large extent, the books in the signs of the 'Kana.'
2 Society for the introduction of the Roman character for writing the Japanese language.
One of the best authorities for writing and pronouncing the names of the districts, cities, towns and villages of Japan is a very recent publication3 by our honored countryman, Mr. W. N. Whitney, interpreter at the U. S. Legation at Tokyo, who compiled this admirable book with great care and labor from the official records of the Japanese empire. It not only contains the names in the original Japanese print, but what is of chief value to us, also the transcription, in accordance with the Romaji-Kwai system. We cannot do better, at present, than to follow this book in determining the orthography of geographic names in Japan.
3 A concise Dictionary of the principal roads, chief-towns and villages of Japan, with populations, post-offices, &c.; together with Lists of Ken, Kori, and Railways. By W. N. Whitney, M.D., Interpreter of the U. S. Legation, Tokyo.
In not so satisfactory a state as the orthography of Japanese geographic names is that of the countries adjacent to Japan. Considering that Asiatic names have been transcribed phonetically by explorers and surveyors of different nationalities, at different periods of time, and who were often but little, or not at all, acquainted with the languages they had to deal with, it is not surprising that many of the names we find on the charts should have been written utterly wrong. That such was the case on even comparatively recent surveys is, for instance, illustrated by the change in the nomenclature on the French plan of Cape Koan Lan, in the Gulf of Tongking (Plan No. 3721). In this French survey of 1878 the same names on the editions of 1879 and 1886, respectively, are rendered thus:
| 1879. | 1886. |
| Cap Cua-Lam. | Cap Koan Lang. |
| Ile Capuitao. | Cai-puï-tao. |
| Ile Soum-La-Too. | Siong-Lai-Tao. |
| Ile Laito-San. | Lai-Tao. |
| Ile Foum-Lung. | Ile Fong Wong. |
Such differences in spelling, and examples of pleonasm, as are indicated by these names, are found on the charts of all nations, but, under the beneficial working of the systems adopted by the British, French and Germans, similar errors are rapidly being corrected, and progress is being made towards international uniformity in the spelling of all geographic names.
Owing to the number of languages and alphabets in use in the Indian empire, the orthography of its geographic names has for a long time been in controversy. As we see from the "British System," the Royal Geographical Society has decided to spell Indian names in accordance with "Hunters' Imperial Gazetteer of India," a decision which, in view of the fact that the spelling in the Gazetteer is not always in harmony with the adopted rules, is to be regretted. But we can at the same time understand the difficulties of the situation, and appreciate the strong love of the British for old forms and long usage. The differences between the system and the Gazetteer are, however, not radical, since the continental vowel system is followed; still, it would be just as easy to write Kalkutta, Kutch, etc., for Calcutta, Cutch, etc., as it is to write Korea for Corea, and thus be consistent with the rules.
Geographic names in Malay and its branches we know mainly through Dutch, British and Spanish surveyors, and their status may be judged from the prefatory remarks in Maxwell's grammar of Malay, published in 1882, wherein he says, that the spelling of Malay words in the native character is hardly yet fixed, though the Perso-Arabic alphabet has been in use since the 13th century, and that those follow but a vain shadow who seek to prescribe exact modes of spelling words, regarding which even native authorities are not agreed, and of which the pronunciation may vary according to locality.
On the charts published by the Batavian Hydrographic Office, the Malay names are rendered in accordance with the Dutch phonetic system of transliteration (only that the sound of g is always hard) and as this differs from the British phonetic system in several particulars, it is clear that certain corrections must be applied to the spelling of "Dutch" Malay names to facilitate the approximately correct pronunciation of such names by English speaking peoples. But a source of trouble is the seeming uncertainty of the Batavian geographers themselves in regard to the orthography of many names, since it is a frequent occurrence to find the same names variously rendered on charts, or in sailing directions issued at short intervals of time.
We can see, from what has been said above, that chances for disagreement in the rendering of geographic names, originating in countries that do not use the Roman alphabet for their literature, are numerous, and hence, the occurrence of errors in the application of a new system should not be too harshly condemned; nor would the culprits deserve to be dealt with according to the law laid down by the municipal council of the good old Swiss town of Küssnacht, which not very long ago issued a decree that the final t in the name of their town should be dropped in all official communications, and that any local official failing to obey this decree should be fined.
MR. BAKER: In the preparation of a map, the last things to go on are the names. If the map covers a region of country long known or thickly settled most of its features already have names. But comparison of several maps of, or writings about, a region almost invariably reveals confusion, contradictions and errors in the names. The same feature often bears different names on different maps. The same name has various spellings, and the names on the map may in their turn not agree with local usage. Examples of this confusion abound everywhere, and are a source of constant perplexity to the geographer.
The names are often misapplied. The name of one cape or mountain peak through accident, carelessness, ignorance, or by intent is often found attached to some other cape or mountain peak. A small feature's name may be extended to cover much more than that to which it fittingly belongs; or a name rightly applicable to a large tract may be wrongly restricted to a small one. In the hands of the map-maker geographic names may be regarded as labels loosely attached and easily misplaced. Handled by many writers, both careful and careless, these labels become misplaced or lost; and in replacing these misplaced labels or in restoring lost ones much confusion and many errors arise. The newspaper writer writing hurriedly, the magazine writer without hurry, or the book writer working deliberately, each in turn finds that the investigation of questions relating to geographic names carries him away from his subject. If a question arises respecting a non-geographic term the dictionary can be appealed to and, right or wrong, followed without discredit. But with many or most of the questions about geographic names, in the United States at least, we have no adequate dictionary or "authority" to appeal to. As a consequence in most cases the writer takes indifferently what is nearest to mind or hand and thus produces new varieties in names, variants upon old ones or quite new ones. Such names are called corrupt until usage and familiarity removes the stigma and the corrupted name having grown respectable is adopted.
A foreign name may be transliterated by one writer and translated by another. This course gives rise to two or more forms. The absence of uniform usage in transliterating, causes diversity in one case, and in the other as several translations are possible, and mistakes probable, various forms arise.
The progress of all science is intimately associated with questions of nomenclature. Modern progress in biologic science dates from the adoption of the binomial system, and it is not too much to expect that progress in geographic science will similarly be found to be intimately associated with a study of geographic names and the principles which should control in their adoption and use.
The object aimed at in these notes is to draw attention to the importance of the subject and to arouse discussion; the purpose of the discussion being to ascertain if there be not certain guiding principles which may serve to aid in solving the numerous and perplexing questions relating to geographic nomenclature.
What is a geographic name? Without attempting a categorical answer to this question I would say that geographic names seem to me to bear a strong resemblance to the names used in biology. They are generic and specific. To designate any specific geographic feature we usually use two words, one a descriptive term, such as river, island, lake, pond or mountain, and the other, a specific name indicating what particular pond, lake, or mountain is designated. The term Mississippi River is a compound name, in which river may be regarded as a part of a proper name. It is the name of a genus, whereas the term Mississippi is the specific designation. Of course it will happen in geographic names, as in biologic, that certain features or objects become so well known that a single name, either the generic or the specific will be used by itself to designate the object. We speak of Maine without prefixing the generic term "State of," the specific name being sufficiently characteristic. On the other hand here in Washington references to "the Avenue" meaning Pennsylvania Avenue are familiar to all. In this case the generic term is used for particular specification. These exceptional usages, however, do not appear to me to invalidate the general principle that the designation of geographic features consists in general of a specific and of a generic name.
The origin of generic terms has been much studied. The origin of specific names has been studied but little and the present notes relate chiefly to this class. Specific names may be said to have two distinct origins, first, those of formal origin where the name has been given pro forma and published in a book or map relating to the region by its discoverer, or by the earliest explorers. This covers the case for a small body of names. Second, there is a very large body of names which appear to have arisen without such formal origin, and to have, as it were, grown up by common consent in the usage of the people of the region.
That which it seems profitable to discuss here, and now, is the principles which should be adopted and followed in the selection of the names which are to go upon the map; principles which will enable one to discriminate when usage is divided, between that which should be adopted and that which should be rejected. To make this clear, a few instances of the peculiar questions which arise may be cited, and then some of the guiding principles stated which it might be possible to adopt and to follow.
The river which flows along the western edge of New York City is locally known as the North River. Shall this be called the North River, or Hudson River, or Hudson's River? And if this geographic name is printed in the text of a book, will you print river with a capital letter or a small letter? It must be borne in mind that this question is asked not for the purpose of immediate or categorical answer, but for the purpose of eliciting thought and discussion upon the principles which should control the answer.
In 1793 Vancouver entered and mapped Port Townsend, which he formally named Port Townshend. At the present time the city situated upon that harbor, as well as the harbor itself, is universally known as Port Townsend, the "h" in the original being omitted. This is a clear and specific case, where the name formally applied by the original explorer is now modified in its orthography by usage. What form of the name shall be adopted? The former or original name or the present modified name? And if the original name is to be adopted, shall we proceed similarly in all cases and go back to the original form?
In the case of names which have undergone transformations through ignorance or through usage, shall an attempt be made to restore the original orthography? Take the case in Missouri of the stream called Bois Brule, or burnt wood, and which has become in the usage of the residents in that part of the world Bob Ruly, and is so spelled in the local publications, and so pronounced in the local usage.
When Champlain sailed along the heel of Cape Cod and discovered the extensive shoals which vex the navigation in those waters, he put upon his chart the statement mal barre, and a number of later maps applied this name to the southernmost point of the heel of Cape Cod as Malabar, and so it stood for 100 years or more as Malabar and may even be found upon some current publications. In the Coast Survey publications it is uniformly called Monomoy.
Again on the north shore of Martha's Vineyard is a place formerly known by the Indian word Kiphiggon. On the modern maps this place is called Cape Higgon. Shall we in this case adopt the practice of the purists and restore the earlier form? In this same locality are four small harbors, called by the sailors Holes; namely Holmes' Hole, Wood's Hole, Robinson's Hole, and Quick's Hole. In current usage, except among seamen, Holmes' Hole has disappeared and been replaced by Vineyard Haven. Wood's hole has been converted into Wood's Holl, though still pronounced hole; while Robinson and Quick still remain holes. In this case shall we attempt to be consistent, or in other words to be uniform?
In the vicinity of New Haven there is a hill occupied many years ago by Coast Survey parties, and called in their records Rabbit Rock. Surveying parties last year in searching for this station inquired diligently in the vicinity and failed to find any information respecting it for some time. The place, however, is well known to all the people for many miles around as Peter's Rock, and this name appears on the county atlas of New Haven, published in 1856. I suppose the name Rabbit Rock has found earlier publication on Coast Survey charts or in its reports, though I have not verified this supposition. But assuming that it has been so published, shall we now call that hill Rabbit Rock or Peter's Rock?
Allegany County, New York, is spelled Allegany. A post office in Sierra County, California, is spelled Alleghany; the city of Allegheny near Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, is spelled Allegheny. Shall these names be allowed to stand unchanged, or should an attempt be made to reduce them all to one form?
In the last century, the place we now know as Sitka was known to the English as Norfolk Sound, to the French as Tchinkitane Bay, and to the Russians as New Archangel. The earliest of these names being Norfolk Sound. Is there any doubt in this case as to the advisability of retaining the name Sitka?
The great sea between Northeastern Asia and Northwestern America, at one time known as the Sea of Kamchatka, and now known as Bering Sea, has been variously written Bhering Sea, Behring Sea, Beering Sea, Bering Sea, as well as all these forms with the addition of the apostrophe "s." I will not ask what is the correct name, as the question in this form seems to imply that there is a correct form, and all other forms are erroneous. The question should rather be, what form is it advisable to adopt with the view, let us hope, of securing its general adoption?
And this leads up to the question of possessives generally in specific geographic names. Many specific geographic names have the possessive form, while many others do not. Is it advisable to attempt to secure uniformity of usage in this regard? I will frankly avow my own conviction which has resulted from more or less consideration and study of the matter to be, that the use of the possessive form should be discouraged and abandoned as far as practicable. While it seems to me unwise to lay down a hard and fast rule, yet there are a very large number of cases in which the possessive form may be dropped to advantage and without, I think, arousing any general opposition to the practice. When the theory held that the King owned all, and geographic features were named for the royal family or for the nobility, the possessive form was very frequently used indicating possession or ownership, and this in cases where such possessive form has now disappeared from the maps. Why should not the possessive form be used to denote possession only? A pond, a hill, a swamp, lying on Smith's land may be properly designated as it often is, as Smith's pond, Smith's hill, etc. But nobody would think of saying Madison's Place, or Washington's Monument. There appears to be a certain principle involved. Those particular features which are of a public character, such as states, counties, towns, streets, parks, etc., which are named for individuals are almost universally named without the possessive form. And this commends itself as a reasonable practice. Without, therefore, cutting off possessives from all names where usage has now fixed them with considerable firmness, there yet remains a considerable body of geographic names in which the possessive form remains, but which are not strongly intrenched in public usage. In such cases it seems to me we may advantageously drop the possessive form. Let us say Donner Lake, not Donner's Lake, Hudson Bay, not Hudson's Bay, James Bay, not James' Bay, Baffin Bay, not Baffin's Bay, etc., etc.
MR. THOMPSON: I hardly know how I came to be brought into this discussion. The Secretary caught me in his net unawares and unprepared. I do not propose to trespass long on your time, nor do I suppose I shall add anything to a philosophical discussion of geographic nomenclature. I only wish to call your attention to a few principles that obviously should be followed in the selection of new geographic names and to show some absurdities and difficulties which are liable to occur if the sentiment in favor of Indian nomenclature is allowed full liberty. A geographic name should be short, euphonic, pronounced as spelled, and have a meaning or express some sentiment to help fix it in the memory. Especially should these principles govern when we consider that in childhood, in our school-days, we obtain by far the greater portion of our geographic knowledge.
The old Spanish explorers followed these rules largely in their geographic nomenclature, and although "Saint" and "Sierra" occur with alarming frequency, there is always some reason for the appellation; either they saw a line of peaks cut the horizon or the christening occurred on the natal day of the holy martyr. "Rio Dolores" and "Las Animas" are certainly better than "Sorrow Creek" or "Soul Wash," and even "Purgatoire"—though the Colorado cow-boy corrupts it into "Picket Wire"—is better than "Cottonwood Creek."
Some Indian names are very expressive, characterizing topographic features. In northern Arizona is a steep volcanic neck or needle, its sharp sides rising in one step twelve hundred feet above the surrounding country. From the base of this pinnacle, two long lava dykes stretch on either hand in a gentle curve across the mesa. The resemblance to the spreading wings of a bird is striking, and the Navajo Indian calls the rock "A-ga-thla"—the "Flying Bird." A name well worthy, it seems to me, of being placed on the maps of that region, as it is on the one I hold in my hand. But on the same map, close along side, is "Te-ze-ba-a-kit Lake," a barbarous appellation—unspellable, unpronounceable and unlovely. Nor can I say less in denunciation of "Zilh-le-ji-ni Mesa"—a name that needs intimate acquaintance with wigwam smoke and Navajo gutturals to handle lingually. But what shall we say of "Boo-koo-dot-klish Cañon;" the Navajo name for what the white man calls with better propriety, it seems to me, for our maps, "Bluestone Wash." "To-go-hol-tas-e Spring" could hardly be worse in English. And here is "Sa-hot-soid-be-azh-e Cañon" (pronounce it as you please or can) sandwiched between "Gothic Wash" and "Gypsum Valley"—one hardly knows which to prefer, Indian or English.
"Cañon del Muerto"—the Cañon of the Dead—so named from the discovery of mummified or rather dessicated Indian bodies in its cliffs—seems very appropriate, but its brother cañon—"Cañon de Chelly," pronounced Cañon de Shay, will be neither spoken nor written correctly.
On this same map are shown two small mesas, crowned with forests and standing beautiful and symmetric in the landscape. They attract attention at once and the Indian, with a fine sense of appropriateness, names them "Son-sa-la"—the "Twin Stars"; another name well worthy of being retained. Some patriotic American has named the deep gorge separating the "Stars" "Washington Pass," a good example of the right name in a wrong place.
The sense of broad humor that often characterizes the Indian leads him to sometimes give the inquirer a name expressive of contempt or bearing a meaning hardly translatable to ears polite—"Nic-doit-so-e Peak" is an example—and I confess, with considerable humiliation, that I was the victim in this case.
I present these instances, Mr. Chairman, to emphasize the necessity of adopting some guiding principles to aid us in the selection of geographic names.