So it went from father to son. The very limited number of given names resulted in an unusually large number of Johanssons, Anderssons, Peterssons, Olssons, Karlssons and Swenssons. In the United States, of course, much confusion resulted in the delivery of mail, in legal transactions, and so forth. The similarity of names led to nicknaming to give distinction to individuals: for instance, John Johnson in the employ of Mr. Green was called John Green to distinguish him from another John Johnson; the John Carlson who had gone with the gold rush to California was known as California Carlson. The portly Albert Swanson was called Albert Fat Swanson, and the Peter Anderson whose house was set back some distance from the road was designated Pete-in-the-Field, whereas a man by the same name residing in the village was Pete-in-the-Street. John G. Princell, the religious leader, was the son of Magnus Gudmund-son, who changed his name to Gummeson in America. Princell took his name from Princeton, Ill.39
The Norwegians and Danes have also made changes in their names — for example, Bakken has been translated as Hill, Leebakken has been shortened as Lee, and Bruss, Knutson and Terjesen have been transliterated as Bruce, Newton and Toycen (pro. Tyson)40 — but on the whole those changes have been fewer than among the Swedish names, for many Norwegian patronymics lie well within the phonological patterns of American. Indeed, not a few of them are of English or Scotch origin, and even more are of German (or Swiss) or Dutch origin.41 The names of the Finns need a more extensive overhauling in this country. Some of them are translated, e.g., Mäki into Hill, Jarvi into Lake, Unsijärvi into Newlake, Joki into River (s), Hahti into Bay, Tuisku into Storm, Talvi into Winter(s), and Metsä into Forest or Forrest; others are transliterated, so that Laine, e.g., becomes Lane, Hämäläinen becomes Hamlin, Paatalo becomes Pat-low, and Hartikainen becomes Hartman; and others are abbreviated, e.g., Peijariniemi to Niemi, Hakomäki to Maki or Mackey; Saarikoski to Koski, and Höyhtyä to Hoyt. Lähteenmäki (spring hill) may be abbreviated to Mäki and then translated into Hill. Pitkäjärvi (long lake) may be abbreviated to Järvi, and then changed to Jarvis or translated into Lake. Pulkka and Pulkkinen are often changed to Polk. At least 20% of the Finns bear Swedish surnames, and not infrequently a Finn makes a surname for himself, in the ancient Swedish manner, by adding -son to his father’s given name. Thus, the son of Jaakko becomes Jackson and the son of Antti becomes Anderson. The fact that the Finnish p has a sound somewhere between the English b and p and the Finnish t a sound somewhere between the English t and d is responsible for other changes. Thus, when a Finn named Pelto gives his name, it may be written down Beldo, and like the German Schneiders who became Snyders he may decide to retain the “American” form.42
The Italians, in the early days of their immigration to the United States, changed their names with some frequency, but with the advent of Mussolini and the rise of a new Italian national spirit this process was halted. The late James E. March, Republican leader of the Third Assembly District in New York, was originally Antonio Maggio. Paul Kelly, leader of the Longshoremen’s Union, was Paolo Vaccarelli. Jim Flynn, the only man who ever knocked out Jack Dempsey, was Andrea Chiariglione. One Alessandro Smiraglia has become Sandy Smash, Francesco Napoli is Frank Knapp, Francesco Tomasini is Frank Thomas, and Luigi Zampariello is Louis Smith. Henry Woodhouse, a gentleman once prominent in aeronautical affairs, came to the United States from Italy as Mario Terenzio Enrico Casalegno; his new surname is simply a translation of his old one. Other such translations are fairly common, e.g., Little for Piccolo, White for Blanco, Whitehand for Blancamano and Pope for Pape. Transliterations and clipped forms are also occasionally encountered, e.g., Shellat for Scellato, Rondy for Rondinone, Bellows for Bello, Marinace for Marinaccio, Lowery for Lauria, Lance for Lanza and Silvy for Silvig. There is an Italian Galloway in New York whose name was originally Gallo. The early Italians ran to Irish names for two reasons. The first was that they came into contact with the Irish in the Catholic churches, and not infrequently married Irish girls. The other was that most of the politicians and prizefighters of their admiration were Irishmen. Moreover, those who entered the prize-ring themselves soon found, like the Jews, that Irish names drew larger houses. The Italian surnames, in the main, are not as difficult to Americans as those of the Greeks and Slavs; thus they have been under rather less pressure. But the long ones seem doomed to succumb. There is no reason why Vitolo, Muccia or Guerci should not survive, but there is hard sledding ahead for Pietroluongo, Cicognani and Guglielminetti.43 In many cases the pronunciation of Italian names is changed. In particular, those ending with e tend to lose it, just as the analogous German names lose it. Thus, the surname of the celebrated Al Capone is commonly pronounced so that it rhymes with zone, and its bearer, I am informed, prefers it so. As for the Italian a, it is quickly Americanized, so that the first syllable of Sacco rhymes with back, and the first of Vanzetti with can.
The commoner Spanish names, like the commoner Italian names, seem to be easy for Americans, and hence they have been little changed. Gomez, Garcia, Gonzalez, Castro, Valdez, Ruiz, Lopez, Sanchez and the like have been taken in without resistance, and are usually pronounced, especially in the Southwest, with some approximation to correctness. There have been few translations, and even fewer attempts at transliteration.44 Changes in other Latin names are much more frequent. The long Rumanian patronymics are quickly shortened in this country, and many of the more difficult shorter ones are supplanted by translated or transliterated forms, e.g., Miller for Morariu, Jones for Ionescu, Patterson for Patrascu, Sage for Suciu, and Stanley or Stanton for Stănilă.45 In Bristol county, Mass., where Portuguese immigrants are numerous, they often change their names, but in most cases the changes are slight. Thus, Luiz becomes Lewis, Pereira becomes Perry, Marques becomes Marks, Martins becomes Martin, Freitas becomes Frates, Correia becomes Corey or Curry, Jorge becomes George, Jordão becomes Jordan, Silva becomes Silver, Lourenço becomes Lawrence, Morais becomes Morris, and Terra becomes Terry. Sometimes there is a translation, e.g., from Ferreira to Smith, and now and then there is a curious transliteration, e.g., from Caranguejo to Crabtree and from Soares to the German Schwartz.46 It is not uncommon for the surviving Portuguese names to be pronounced in the American manner, e.g., Lopes for Lopez, Nunes for Nunez and Alves for Alvez, and for their bearers to yield to the American pronunciation.47 But of all the Latin surnames, the French seem to fare the worst. In the early part of this chapter I have given examples of the radical changes some of them underwent in colonial days. The invasion of New England by French-Canadians has produced many more — White for Le Blanc, Woods for Dubois, Drinkwater for Boileau, Larch for L’Archeveque, Larraby for La-Riviére, Shampoo for Archambault, and so on.48 A small colony of Hollanders including Flemings of French name settled in Boyle county, Kentucky, in the Nineteenth Century, and in a little while all its Badeaus were Beddows, its La Rues were plain Rues, its De Bons were Debauns, and its Des Champses were Scomps.49 There was another slaughter, this time at the hands of the Spaniards, in the late Eighteenth Century. They were in control of the Mississippi from 1763 to 1800 and kept the public records. Thus the names of many French traders and settlers, coming up from Louisiana or down from Canada, were changed to accord with Spanish notions. In this way Chouteau became Chotau and Choto (and was later transformed by the invading Americans into Shoto). “The fine disregard for spelling,” says John Francis McDermott,50 “may be illustrated by the name Kiercereau, which is also spelled Kiercerau, Kiersereau, Kierserau, Kersereau, Kerserau, Kesserau, Kessereau, Kiergerau, Kiergereaux, Kiercereaux, Kiergero, Kergzo, Quircero, Guiercero (this is probably an inaccuracy of copying), Tiercero, Tiercerot, Tercero.” Mr. McDermott says that French nomenclature was also considerably upset by the prevalence of dit names, i.e., inherited nicknames, and by the confusion between estate-names and true surnames among certain of the immigrants from Canada.
The Hungarians, Armenians, Syrians and other newcomers to the Republic have had to modify their more difficult patronymics like the rest. The firs
t-named, who sometimes bear surnames analogous to the English St. John, often translate them, e.g., Szentgyörgyi becomes Saint George and Szentpétery becomes Saint Peter. Sometimes other names are translated, e.g., Borbély into Barber, Papp into Priest, Péntek into Friday, Kovács into Smith, Mészáros into Butcher, Sebes into Speed, Kerekes into Wheeler, and Szabó into Taylor; and sometimes they are transliterated, e.g., Kállay into Kelly, Gyulay into July, Horvath into Howarth, Szüle into Sewell, Szemán into Seaman, Nyiri into Neary, Kayla into Kayler, and Makláry into McCleary. When names are retained they are frequently changed in spelling. Thus Bela sometimes becomes Behla, Köszegy becomes Koesegi, Köves becomes Koevesh, and Kiss becomes Kish. The Hungarians, like the Chinese, always put the surname first, and this custom is kept up after their names have been Americanized. Thus, Charley Braun is always Braun Charley, and Steve Takach is Takach Steve. Ilong Nagy, wife of Peter Kiss, is either Kiss Péterné Nagy Iolna or Kissné Nagy Ilona.51 A well-known Hungarian-American, Mr. L. Lázzló Ecker-Rácz, has got round the difficulty presented by Rácz by abbreviating his surname to Ecker-R.52 The Syrians and Armenians frequently bear names that are even stranger to Americans than the Hungarian names, and so they have to make radical changes. Thus, the Syrian Sharm’un is changed to Shannon, Hurayz to Harris, Musallem to Abraham, Muqabba’a to McKaba, and Abbud to Abbott. Khouri, a common Syrian name, becomes Khoury, Coury, Courey, Khuri, Koorey or Corey. The Syrian Haddad, though it presents no phonological difficulties, is commonly translated into Smith, and Ashshi into Cook. Says Dr. Philip K. Hitti of Princeton:
“Did you not receive any aid from American sources?” asked I of the Maronite priest in Detroit who was showing me his newly built church, and priding himself on its being one of the finest Syrian church buildings in the country. No sooner had his negative reply been made than my eyes caught Edward A. Maynard on the altar, and, asking for an explanation, the priest replied, “Oh, well, that is Wadi’ Mu’auwad.”53
The Armenian names go the same route. Sometimes they are translated, e.g., Tertzagian into Taylor, Ohanesian or Hovanesian into Johnson, and Hatzakordzian into Baker; sometimes they are crudely transliterated, e.g., Jamgotvhain into Jamison, Bedrosian into Peterson, Melkonian into Malcolm, and Heditzian into Hedison; sometimes they are abbreviated, e.g., Bozoian into Bozo, Karageozian into Kara, Dermenjian into Dermen, Mooradian into Moore, and Hampartzoomian into Hampar; and sometimes they are subjected to even more brutal processes, as when Garabedian becomes Charleston, Kizirboghosian becomes Curzon, and Khachadoorian becomes Hatch.54
But of all the immigrant peoples in the United States, the Jews seem to be the most willing to change their names. Once they have lost the faith of their fathers, a phenomenon almost inevitable in the first native-born generation, they shrink from all the disadvantages that go with their foreignness and their Jewishness,55 and seek to conceal their origin, or, at all events, to avoid making it unnecessarily noticeable.56 At the height of the immigration from Eastern Europe even the members of the first generation moved rapidly in that direction, though they commonly remained true to the synagogue. How many of the Jews of New York now sport new names I don’t know, but it certainly must be a very large proportion of the whole number, and it may run to a full half. They follow all the patterns in vogue among the other newcomers to the country, and have added one of their own, i.e., the prettification of their traditional names, whereby Cohen becomes Cohn, Coyne, Conn, Cowan, and even Cain, Solomon becomes Salomon, Solmson and Salmon, the names in Rosen- become Rose or Ross, and Levy becomes Lewy, Levitt, Levay, Levoy, Levie, LeVie, Levene, Levien, Levin, Levine, Levey, Levvy, Levie and Lee.57 Like the Germans whose names they so often bear, they also seek refuge in translations more or less literal. Thus, Blumenthal is changed to Blooming-dale, Reichman to Richman, and Schlachtfeld to Warfield. One Lobenstine (i.e., Lobenstein) had his name changed to Preston during the war, and announced that this was “the English version” of his patronymic. A Wolfsohn similarly became a Wilson, though without attempting any such fantastic philological justification for the change, and a Bernheimer became a Burton. Fielder, a common name among the Russian Jews, often becomes Harper in New York; so does Pikler, which is Yiddish for drummer. Stolar, which is a Yiddish word borrowed from the Russian, signifying carpenter, is changed to Carpenter. Lichtman and Lichtenstein become Chandler. Meilach, which is Hebrew for king, becomes King, and so does Meilachson. Sher is changed into Sherman, Michel into Mitchell, Rogowsky into Rogers, Rabinovitch into Robbins, Davidovitch into Davis, Moiseyev into Macy or Mason, and Jacobson, Jacobovitch and Jacobovsky into Jackson. This last change proceeds by way of a transient change to Jake or Jack as a nickname. Jacob is always abbreviated to one or the other among the Russian and Polish Jews. Yankelevitch also becomes Jackson, for Yankel is Yiddish for Jacob.58
It has thus become impossible in America to recognize Jews by their names. There are not only multitudes of Smiths, Browns and Joneses among them, but also many Adamses, Lincolns, Grants, Lees, Jeffersons and Harrisons, and even Vanderbilts, Goulds, Schuylers, Cabots59 and Lowells. I turn to the roster of the Social Justice Commission of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (1931), and find an Ellis, a Fox and a Wise. I proceed to a list of committees of the Zeta Beta Tau fraternity, an organization of Jewish college men, otherwise highly race-conscious, and find Waller, Harwick, Rose, Ferguson, Livingston, Howland, Newman, Harte, Cotton, Ney, Morgan, Harris, Lewis, Richards, Gladstone, Eno, Rand and Butt.60 I go to a roll of Boston Jews who have written books, and find Taylor, Lyons, Millin, Curtiss (geb. Kirstein?), Coleman, Davis, White and Burroughs.61 The process which turned a Braunstein into a Trotsky in Russia, and a Finkelstein into a Litvinoff has gone on in this country on a truly gigantic scale. And even when the old names have been retained, they have been modified, in many thousands of cases, in pronunciation. All the familiar name-endings — -stein, -baum, -thou, -thal and so on — acquire new values. The fashion for changing the pronunciation of stein from stine to stean seems to have come in during the World War, and it spread very quickly and is now almost universal. The single name Stein is still usually pronounced stine, Klein is still Kline and Weinberg is still Wineberg, but Epstein, Bernstein, Hammerstein and their congeners are now Epstean, Bernstean,62 Hammerstean, etc. The name of Anton Rubinstein, the composer, is always pronounced -stean by American radio announcers. Even the last syllables of names in -stine, e.g., Durstine, are commonly made -stean in New York. In Einstein the first syllable retains the sound of the German diphthong, but the -stein becomes -stean. In the same way Weil is Weel. How and why this affectation came into vogue I do not know, but probably it owes something to anti-German feeling during the war. French example may have helped, for in French Goldstein comes close to gollsteen. The diphthong ei, with its German value, is of course very rare in English, but in either it seems to be driving out ee.63 Since the war Lehman has ceased to to be layman and become lee-man,64 Morgenthau has become morgen-thaw, and Strauss has begun to turn into straws. The first German s in the last-named, of course, loses its sh-sound. In most other situations the German diphthong au is likewise aw, so that Blaustein becomes Blawsteen and Rosenbaum becomes Rosenbawm. Kühn (usually spelled Kuhn), Loeb & Company is always coon-lobe. Meier is often meer, Bache is baysh, Shapiro is sometimes shap-yro, and Baruch is ber-ook, with the accent on the last syllable. In New York, of course, the last syllable of the -berg names is often boig. In the case of the -thai names a new consonant has been invented. It is the th of thick, but with a distinct t-sound preceding. The name often sounds like Rosent-thal, and the same tth is also heard in Thalberg, Thalheimer, etc. The spelling of Jewish names is frequently changed, even when their pronunciation is but little modified. In New York I have encountered a Dalshheimer turned Dalsemer, Schlesingers turned Slessinger or Slazenger, and Schöns turned Shain, Shane or Shean. Elsewhere I have heard of Labovitzes turned Laborises, Labouisses and even La Borwits. I was once told — by a witness, alas, not too reliable — of a Gin
zberg who spelled his name Guinness-Bourg.65 The spelling of the -heimer names is often changed to -himer, that of the -heim names to -hym, and that of the -baum names to -bem or even -bum.
Many of the changes in Jewish surnames are effected by degrees. Thus Goldstein first becomes Goldstone, then Golston and finally Golson. Samuel Goldwyn, the movie magnate, was born Gelbfisch, and passed as Goldfish in his pupal stage.66 Sometimes these successive changes have method in them, as is indicated by the following tale from Dr. Pepys’s Diary in the Journal of the American Medical Association written by Dr. Morris Fishbein, himself a Jew:
Today in ye clinic a tale told of Dr. Levy who hath had his name changed to Sullivan. A month after he cometh again to ye court, this time wishing to become Kilpatrick. On request for ye reason, he telleth ye court that ye patients continually ask of him, “What was your name before?” If granted ye change he shall then tell them “Sullivan.”
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