American Language Supplement 2

by H. L. Mencken

  At the start, in all probability, these names were pronounced more or less correctly, but before long they acquired spelling pronunciations, and at present the baugh in them is usually bow, though in some instances it stops at the half-way point of bock, rhyming with clock. In other names the ch was changed to k forthwith, so that Bloch became Block, Hoch became Hoke, and Koch became Cook or Coke. In yet others it was changed to an i-sound, so that Albrecht became Albright, or to x, so that Trechsler became Trexler. And in still others the guttural g was changed to y, so that Hollweg became Holloway. To these Barker, in the Report of the Committee on Linguistic and National Stocks,1 adds Rock and Rugh, both from Rauch; the membership rolls of a German parish in Maryland add Upperco from Opferkuchen;2 a list from the Valley of Virginia adds Churchman from Kirchman and Newkirk from Neukirch,3 and one from Wisconsin adds Slaght for Schlacht.4

  The other common changes in German names are discussed in AL45 – the dropping of the umlaut, e.g., Sanger from Sänger, Furst from Fürst, Lowe from Löwe, Warfel from Würfel, Burger or Berger from Bürger, Custer from Köster,6 Ohler or Oler from Oehler, Muller from Müller;7 the change of sch to simple s, e.g., Snyder from Schneider 1 and Small from Schmal; the dropping of the terminal e, e.g., Keen from Kuhne, Lang from Lange; the frequent changes of vowel, e.g., Hayes from Heisse, Harman from Hermann, Lantz from Lentz, Spilman from Spielmann, Warner from Werner, or of consonant, e.g., Smith from Schmidt, Hite from Reid, Hood from Huth, Lowther from Lauter, Mitchell from Michel, Shriver from Schreiber; the transliterations, sometimes involving other changes, e.g., Cline from Klein, Bloom from Blum, Price from Preus, Eisenhower from Eisenhauer, Gates from Goetz, Hines from Heinz, Cole from Kohl, Kramer from Kraemer, Coon from Kuhn, Shane from Schön, Russell from Rössel, Saylor from Seiler, Frietchie from Fritsche, Lawrence from Lorenz, Early from Oehrle, Crouse from Kraus, Royce from Reuss, Coler from Kohler, Snead from Sniedt, Deeds from Dietz, Stine from Stein, Ewell from Uhl, Bowler from Bauer, and the almost innumerable translations, e.g., Wise from Weiss, Baker from Becker, Carpenter from Zimmerman, Friend from Freund, Green from Grun, Goodman from Gutmann, Young from Jung, Hunter from Jaeger, Booker from Bucher, Bishop from Bischof, Brewer from Brauer, Fox from Fuchs, Brown from Braun, Weaver from Weber, Stone from Stein, Slaughter from Schlachter, Wanamaker from Wannemacher, Miller from Müller; Long from Lang, Short from Kurtz, Newman from Neumann, Lewis from Ludwig, Sharp from Scharf, Taylor from Schneider, Shoemaker from Schumacher, Black from Schwarz and Steel from Stahl.2

  The American tendency to add s to short British names, already noted in the cases of Hayes, Brooks and Johns, extended to names originally German, and there are examples in Ames from Oehm, Richards from Reichardt, Bowers from Bauer and Sowers from Sauer. In the somewhat decadent village of Potosi, Wis., Miss Baumann3 has found a curious habit of preserving the original German spellings, even when the pronunciation of names has changed greatly. Thus a man always called Smith still writes his name Schmidt, and one called Bryan writes it Broihahn.

  Donald Herbert Yoder has offered the plausible theory that many of the changes in Pennsylvania German names, making them different from the standard German forms, were not produced by pressure from the English-speaking population but by phonetic peculiarities of the dialects spoken by the immigrants, and especially by the Palatinate dialect that gradually engulfed all the others. Yoder calls this a Dutchifying of names, and says that “the immigrants and their descendants simply learned to spell their surnames as they themselves pronounced them.” “Our family names,” he goes on,

  bear the same relation to the High German forms as do many of our dialect words. That is to say, they show the same vowel and consonant shifts.… On a visit through Berks, Schuylkill, Dauphin and Northumberland counties, visiting some of our older ceneteries, I took particular notice of the name changes. Often in the same cemetery tombstones stood side by side bearing the High German and the Dutchified forms of the name, as for example Hertlein and Hartlein in the Oley Reformed Cemetery at Spangsville, Berks county.1

  Yoder lists twelve common vowel changes and seven consonant changes, as follows:

  a to o, as in Spahn to Spohn, Graff to Grove, Rahn to Rhone, and Fahrni to Forney.

  au to aw, as in Lauffer to Lawfer and Kaufmann to Coffman.

  au to o, as in Stauffer to Stover.

  e to a, as in Berger to Barger, Bernhardt to Barnhart, and Spengler to Spangler.

  ei to oi, as in Meyer to Moyer,2 Beyer to Boyer, and High (originally Hoch) to Hoy.

  eu to ei, as in Kreuzer to Kreitzer, Kraeutler to Kreidler, and Baeumler to Bimeler.

  i to a, as in Hirschberger to Harshbarger and Hirtzell to Hartzell.

  i to e, as in Pfirsching to Pershing.

  oe to e, as in Hoeppler to Hepler and Goetz to Getz.

  ue to e, as in Zuericher to Zercher.

  ue to ie, as in Kuefer to Kieffer.

  ue to i, as in Guengerich to Gingerich, Buechsler to Bixler, and Nuessli to Nissley.

  b to v, as in Gruber to Gruver, Eberhart to Everhart, and Gerber to Garver.

  g to k or k to g, as in Gintner to Kantner and Kreider to Greider.

  k or g to ng, as in Daenliker to Denlinger and Nafziger to Naftzinger.1

  ig to ich, as in Neidig to Neidich.

  p to b and b to p, as in Pressler to Bressler and Bitsche to Peachy.

  pf to p, as in Stumpf to Stump, Pfeffer to Pepper, Pfaelzer to Pelzer and Pfaffenberger to Poffenberger.

  t to d, as in Tressler to Dressler, Jotter to Yoder, and Rautenbusch to Roudebush.

  In addition, Yoder notes the frequent change of names by interpolation, as in Minnich from Muench and Yearick from Goerg.2 All these forces, sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition, have produced a great variety of forms. For example, the Huber family from which President Herbert Hoover descended has left progeny named not only Hoover, but also Hoeber, Hover, and Hoofer, and many preserve the original name of Huber. Whenever one of the Pennsylvania German families holds a reunion this diversity is as apparent as it is when the Knickerbocker Van Kouwenhoven-Conovers have a party. Many of the Schwarzes are now Swartzes and others are Blacks.3 In Maryland there are Kaelbers who have become Calvert4 but others remain Kaelber. The name Leipersberger became Leibelsperger, Leibensperger and Livelsberger in Pennsylvania, and Livelsberger, Livelsparger and Livenspire in Ohio.5 Pfoersching became Pfirsching in western Pennsylvania, and then Pershin, and finally Pershing. Some of the Knoches became Knoxes and others became Bones or Boones. Some of the Günthers became Gunthers and others became Ginters. Among the descendants of the primeval Kleins are Klines, Clines and Kleins. Some of the latter-day Schnaebelis are Snabelys, others are Snavelys, and yet others are Snabels. “Whenever William Penn could translate a German name into a corresponding English one,” says an early chronicler,6 “he did so in issuing patents for land in Pennsylvania; thus the respectable Carpenter family in Lancaster are the descendants of a Zimmerman.” But Zimmerman is still a more common name in Pennsylvania than Carpenter. The Allgeiger family which settled in Maryland in the Eighteenth Century has left descendants named Allgeier, Algeier, Allgier, Allgeyer, Allgire and Algire. The Bortz offspring are Borz, Portz and Ports. Those of Eltzroth are Elserote, Elseroad, Elserode, Elsrode and Elsroad. Those of Lautenschläger are Laudenslager, Lautenslager and Lautenschleger.1

  It would be possible to compile an enormous catalogue of Americans of mark who have borne names originally German. Pershing, Custer and Hoover have been mentioned. George Westinghouse, the inventor of the air-brake, was the descendant of a Westphalian named Wistinghausen.2 George W. Crile, the surgeon, descended from a German Kreil. Owen Wister’s Ur-Grossvater was a Wüster. The forefathers of the Hon. John W. Bricker lie in a Frederick, Md., churchyard under the names of Brücker or Brücher.3 The evangelist Billy Sunday was the son of a Union soldier named Sonntag.4 Buffalo Bill Cody’s actual surname was Kothe or Köthe.5 Wendell L. Willkie’s father was a German named Willcke.6 Dr. Frederick A. Cook
, the arctic explorer, was the son of a German Koch. Lew Dockstader, the old-time minstrel, was born Clapp, and got his stage name from an earlier minstrel whose original name was Dachstädter. General W. S. Rosecrans, who lost the battle of Chickamauga, was a Rosenkrantz. William Wirt, candidate for the Presidency in 1832, was a Wörth. The Rockefellers were originally Roggenfelders. General Nicholas Herkimer, killed in the Revolution, was the son of a Herchheimer born near Heidelberg in 1700.7 The name of Peter Stenger Grosscup, once a celebrated Federal judge, was originally Grosskopf.8 Daniel Boone may have been the grandson of a Böhn.1 The William Rittenhouse who was the first American paper-maker and grandfather of the first American astronomer arrived in Pennsylvania by way of Holland as William Rittinghuysen, originally the German Wilhelm Rittershausen.2 Pal Moore, the lightweight pugilist, who died in 1943, started out in life as Paul Walter von Frandke.3

  Where the early Germans encountered forerunners who were not British they often changed their names to accommodate non-English speechways, e.g., French. On the so-called German Coast of Louisiana, settled in the Eighteenth Century, many of their surnames were thus Gallicized almost beyond recognition. Buchwalter became Bouchevaldre, Wichner became Vigner, Wagensbach became Vacquensbac, Zehringer became Zerinque, and Huber became Houbre, Houver and Ubre.4 The same process has been recorded in France itself, and also in Spain, Italy and the Slavic lands.5 The Germans have made the balance even by Germanizing many non-German names at home and also in their settlements in this country. To balance a German Lesch family which became Lech, Laiche, Lesc, Leichert and Lecheux in Louisiana6 there was a French Lecher family in Pennsylvania which became Lesher, and a French Lessecq family which became Lessig.7 An old tale tells of a Scotsman named Ferguson who, on settling among Germans in western New York, suffered the change of his name to Feuerstein, and then, on moving to an English-speaking settlement, had to submit to its translation into Flint. One of his grandsons, on immigrating to Louisiana, became Pierre à Fusil, and a son of this grandson, on returning to civilization, became Peter Gun.8 To this may be added the fact that when William Wordsworth, the English poet, settled at Goslar in the Hartz in 1798 the local Dogberrys recorded him on their scrolls as Waetsford.1

  Americans of German descent who have clung to the original spelling of their names must submit to their mauling in pronunciation. Frederick Henry Koch (1877–1944), professor of dramatic literature at the University of North Carolina and founder of the folk-play movement, was always called Kosh, i.e., coach without the t-sound. As we have seen, the sch-cluster, as in Schlens, Schleicher and Schneider, is usually reduced to simple s, but not before r, as in Schreiner. The difficult ch-sound is seldom attempted; when it does not become sh it becomes k. The long German u is shortened, so that the first syllable of Gutman rhymes with but. The umlaut disappears, as in the name of Whittier’s Maud Muller, that of the banking firm, Kuhn, Loeb & Company, and that of the New York restaurant, Luchow’s.2 Any unusual German name is bound to be mispronounced and misspelled. Mr. F. C. Fiechter, Jr., a lawyer of Philadelphia, has amused himself by collecting such distortions of his surname, e.g., as Fletcher, Flechter, Feichter, Feighter, Frechter, Fichter, Fietcher and Fiescher,3 and Dr. Alfred D. Schoch, of Chicago, has matched them with fifty or more misspellings of his name, e.g., Shock, Schooh, Schloch, Schack, Schoock, Scooch, Sikoch, Sochs, Schmoch, Schoach, Sikoch and Scochoch.1 Even German names that have become well known, e.g., Schurz, Mayer and Steinmetz, are seldom pronounced correctly.2

  497. [Of all the immigrant peoples in the United States, the Jews seem to be the most willing to change their names.] This willingness did not originate in the Republic; they brought it with them. In the Russian Pale from which so many of them came the eldest son of a family was exempt from military service, and in consequence the custom arose of younger sons bribing the 100% Russian officials to change their surnames, thus enabling them to pass as the eldest sons of mythical families.3 It was also common for Jews who got on in the world to exchange their distinctively Jewish and usually commonplace names for new ones sounding more Russian and more elegant. In one of the stories of Sholom Aleichem there is a character named Peshach Pessi who adopts the sonorous Platon Pantolonovich Lokshentopov. His wife becomes Pantomina, and one of his cousins takes the style and appellation of Fanfaron Faaronovich Yomtovson. In another Aleichem story Yenkel Voroner – that is, Yenkel of Vorone, a town in Lithuania – becomes Yakov Vladimirovich Voronin.4 Many of the principal recent figures in Russian history, bearing Russian names, came into the world with Jewish ones. The martyred Lev Davidovich Trotsky, for example, was born Bronstein, and the diplomat, Maxim Maximovich Litvinoff or Litvinov, was born Finkelstein.5 In all other countries where name-changing is, legally speaking, relatively facile, Jews assume names borrowed from the local onomasticon. In England there are thousands of Mosses who were originally Moseses, Brahams who were Abrahamses, and Montagues, Mortons, Taylors, Gordons, Leftwiches, Harrises, Davises, Morrises, Phillipses, Lewises and Lees who have no blood kinship to those ancient tribes.1 In France there has been a similar assumption of protective coloration in names, but it has been limited by statutes forbidding changes without legal permission by persons holding professional licences from the state – for example, for the practise of medicine. These statutes are sometimes violated, but probably not often, for violations are prosecuted. Said the Paris correspondent of the Journal of the American Medical Association in 1933:2

  Many foreign physicians seek to change their names on the pretext of making them easier to pronounce, but the main object is to conceal their nationality. These changed forms of names consist sometimes of simple translations, which deceive the public. Klein becomes Petit, Delbrück becomes Dupont, for example. A Rumanian physician by the name of Fliesmann, having acquired his diploma in the proper manner at the Faculté de Paris, opened an office in Paris, after assuming the French name Florian. He has been sentenced to pay a fine of $5 and an indemnity of $50, payable to the syndicate of the physicians of the Seine region, who brought suit against him.

  The willingness of Jews to change their surnames is no doubt also helped along by the fact that those surnames, in many cases, are relatively recent, and hence do not radiate old associations and family pride. It was not until 1782 that the Jews of Austria were compelled to assume surnames, and not until 1812 and 1813 that those of Prussia and Bavaria, respectively, had to follow.3 This compulsion was resisted by large numbers, and the harassed officials punished them by giving them names of a grandiose or otherwise ridiculous character, e.g., Edel (noble), Lilienthal (valley of lilies), Wohlgeruch (perfume), Armenfreund (friend of the poor), Ochsenschwanz (ox tail), Wanzenknicker (louse cracker), Drachenblut (dragon’s blood) and Schöndufter (sweet smeller).1 Not infrequently a Jew was blackmailed by being threatened with a name that was obscene or otherwise ruinous,2 but those who paid handsomely were permitted to choose names grateful to their sometimes florid fancy. This last fact, I suppose, accounts for the large number of surnames in Gold-, Fein- (fine) and -blum (flowet) among the German Jews.

  Flesch, in the article lately cited, shows that many very familiar Jewish names are translations of Hebrew given-names into German, Polish, Russian or some other language of the Diaspora. Thus Naftah (defined in Genesis XLIX, 21 as “a hind let loose”) became Hirsch (deer) in German, and from Hirsch flowed a number of other names, e.g., Herz, Herzl and Herzler. Similarly, Jehuda or Judah (defined in Genesis XLIX, 9 as “a lion’s whelp”) became Löwe (lion), and produced Loew, Loeb, Leon and even Levin and Levinsohn; Schalom (peace) was turned into Frieden (German: peace), and produced Fried and Friedman; and Simcha (joy) became Freude (German: joy), and produced Freud, Freudman and various other derivatives. Sometimes one Hebrew name sufficed to engender two or more in German, according to the way it was translated. Thus Asher (defined in Genesis XLIX, 20 as one whose “bread shall be fat”), gave rise to Lamm (lamb) because fatness suggested the sacrificial mutton, and also to Selig (blessed), apparently on the th
eory that good eating was a form of blessedness. Out of Lamm has come Lämmle (a diminutive), and out of Selig two common Jewish names, Seliger and Seligman. The formation of surnames by the addition of some form of -son to a father’s given-name was as common among the Jews as among Christians. In German -sohn was used and in the Slavic languages -ice, -ovice or -ovitch. Many surnames were also made by the additions of diminutives to given-names, e.g., -ig, -ich, -el, -la, -lein, -ing and -ung. Not infrequently phonetic change showed itself, as when the guttural ch of Chayim became k in Keim and h in Hein, Heineman, Heyman and Hyman. Many Russian, Polish and Rumanian Jews assumed such Germanized Jewish names at the time of the first big immigration to America from Eastern Europe. The German Jews were here before them, and had won to a respected position, and it seemed good policy to seek the shelter of that position. Says Jane Doe in a paper entitled “Concerning Hebrew Names”:1

  By that time … Goldstein, Weinberg, Schoenberg, etc., were considered by the Jews themselves to be Jewish names. Where the newly arrived immigrants from Slavic countries had borne Slavic names there they took German names here. At any given period of Jewish history some branch of Jewry plays the aristocrat. At that time the aristocrat was the German Jew.

  The assumption by Jews of well-known non-Jewish names is sometimes protested by the bearers of the latter; indeed, even Jews of the older stock have been known to object, as happened, for example, when a Philadelphia dentist named Isaac Solomon Cohen began subscribing himself I. Solis Cohen, the patronymic of an ancient and honored Jewish medical family of that city. Again, there was an uproar from the Cabots of Boston when, in 1923, a Russian Jew named Kabotchnick2 denized there, gave notice that he had shortened his name to Cabot,3 and another in Baltimore in 1941, when a Dr. Henry Lyon Sinskey proposed to adopt the name of Sherwood, to the disquiet of a rich oil man of that name. But such objections, when they are taken into court, seldom profit the plaintiff, for under American law a man has a right to change his name at will, though it is common for a would-be changeling of any means to ask the countenance of a court of record, that there may be no trouble thereafter about voting rights and the conveyance of property.4 The Solis Cohens, in fact, were advised that restraining Dr. Cohen was impossible under Pennsylvania law, and they did not go to court. The Cabots went and lost.1 In Baltimore the complaining Sherwood seems to have scored a sort of dog-fall, for on November 19, 1941, Judge J. Abner Sayler, sitting in the local Circuit Court, approved the adoption of Sherwood by one of the Sinskey children, a young lawyer, but refused to approve its use by the father, who was still Sinskey in 1947.