Time Takes Fierceness Out of Some Words
STC-Montreal Article | Posted June 3rd, 2006
By Howard Richler
One of the common processes in semantics is that of generalization. A word starts having a specific application, but its sense broadens over time.
For example, originally a mill was a place where you made meal and a barn was a place you stored barley. Similarly, a pen knife was originally restricted to fixing quill pens and paper referred to a sheet made from papyrus. Over time the meaning of all these words widened.
We have also generalized many French words that once only had a military application. If it seems that the aim of some political campaign is maiming your opponent, there is an operative etymological defence. We received the word campaign via the French campagne, but ultimately from the Latin campus, “field”. The Oxford English Dictionary states that “the name arose in the earlier conditions of warfare…when an army remained in quarters during the winter, and on the approach of summers went into the open country or took the field until the season again suspended active operations.” By 1748, the word was used to refer to “excursions into the country,” and by 1770 it was used in the generalized sense of any “all-out effort”.
A parade originally was a military assemblage and the word rally comes from the French rallier, which originally meant to reassemble scattered troops. Its fist definition in the OED is as “a rapid reunion for concentrated effort, esp. of an army after repulse or disorganization.”
This military sense is recorded in 1651; the generalized sense of recovery comes into the language in 1826. The word standard has been used to refer to a “level or quality of excellence” since the 15th century. The original specialized sense, of a “military or naval ensign”, however, goes back to 1154.
For most people the word magazine conjures up something to read, whereas its origins are far less restful. It comes from the Arabic makhazin, originally a storehouse, and by 1596 specifically a place for storing gunpowder. By the 17th century the word had appeared in several book titles where it denoted a “storehouse of information”, and by the 18th century “magazine” was being used synonymously with periodical.
The above words have for the most part maintained some military association, but there are some words that have entirely lost the connection. For example, we think of a metaphorical grapevine as the route through which a rumour passes. Originally, the word was a shortening of “grapevine telegraph.” The first one was constructed just before the American Civil War by attaching wires to trees. Over time, the wire would lose its tautness and lie on the ground, presumably resembling a wild grapevine. Because reports heard over these lines were unreliable, “grapevine” came to refer to unsubstantiated rumours.
Journalists who have problems with deadlines can take comfort that the word used to refer to a more grave dilemma. The first definition of deadline in the OED is of “a line drawn around a military prison, beyond which a prisoner is liable to be shot down.” Again, we have an American Civil War origin. At the Confederate camp in Andersonville, Ga., a line was actually marked out some distance from the outer wire fence. Any prisoner crossing this line was shot on sight. By the 1920s, the term had mellowed and was applied to non-lethal time limits.
A pioneer is thought of as someone who paves the way for others, much as the first pioneers paved the way for other soldiers. The word comes from the Old French, peonier, “foot solder”. The OED’s first definition of the word in 1523 bears this military connection: “One of a body of foot-soldiers who march with…an army or regiment, having spades, pickaxes, etc., to dig trenches, repair roads and perform other labours in clearing and preparing the way for the main body.”
By 1572 “pioneer” was being used to describe an early settler, but Shakespeare has the military sense in mind in the following passage from Othello: “I had been happy that the general camp, pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body”.
Wardrobe is another word descending from Old French that has shifted away from its initial military sense. In Old French it was rendered as warderobe and referred to a compartment used to store and guard (”ward”) valuables (”robe”) captured from the enemy.
The term coup-de-grâce refers to a “finishing stroke” and it is not surprising that in French it meant a death blow (”blow of mercy”) given to end a wounded person’s suffering. More surprising, however, is the military associations of two other French phrases used in English. When it first appeared in English in the 17th century, carte blanche was used as a term for an unconditional military surrender. Avant garde has been used this century, particularly in the arts, to characterize innovators in particular fields. However, as far back as 1470 it had a military sense and the OED’s first definition is as the “foremost part of an army”, its advance guard.
And you thought the French would rather make love than war.
Reprinted from the Montreal Gazette with kind permission of the author. Howard Richler is a Montreal-area author whose book “The Worldwide World of English Words” was recently published. Contact Howard Richler’s by e-mail.

