Chapter VI: Tabooed Words (3)

(M226) When we see that in primitive society the names of mere commoners, whether alive or dead, are matters of such anxious care, we need not be surprised that great precautions should be taken to guard from harm the names of sacred kings and priests. Thus the name of the king of Dahomey is always kept secret, lest the knowledge of it should enable some evil-minded person to do him a mischief. The appellations by which the different kings of Dahomey have been known to Europeans are not their true names, but mere titles, or what the natives call “strong names” (_nyi-sese_). As a rule, these “strong names” are the first words of sentences descriptive of certain qualities. Thus Agaja, the name by which the fourth king of the dynasty was known, was part of a sentence meaning, “A spreading tree must be lopped before it can be cast into the fire”; and Tegbwesun, the name of the fifth king, formed the first word of a sentence which signified, “No one can take the cloth off the neck of a wild bull.” The natives seem to think that no harm comes of such titles being known, since they are not, like the birth-names, vitally connected with their owners.(1405) In the Galla kingdom of Ghera the birth-name of the sovereign may not be pronounced by a subject under pain of death, and common words which resemble it in sound are changed for others. Thus when a queen named Carre reigned over the kingdom, the word _hara_, which means smoke, was exchanged for _unno_; further, _arre_, “ass,” was replaced by _culula_; and _gudare_, “potato,” was dropped and _loccio_ substituted for it.(1406) Among the Bahima of central Africa, when the king dies, his name is abolished from the language, and if his name was that of an animal, a new appellation must be found for the creature at once. For example, the king is often called a lion; hence at the death of a king named Lion a new name for lions in general has to be coined.(1407) Thus in the language of the Bahima the word for “lion” some years ago was _mpologoma_. But when a prominent chief of that name died, the word for lion was changed to _kichunchu_. Again, in the Bahima language the word for “nine” used to be _mwenda_, a word which occurs with the same meaning but dialectical variations in the languages of other tribes of central and eastern Africa. But when a chief who bore the name Mwenda died, the old name for “nine” had to be changed, and accordingly the word _isaga_ has been substituted for it.(1408) In Siam it used to be difficult to ascertain the king’s real name, since it was carefully kept secret from fear of sorcery; any one who mentioned it was clapped into gaol. The king might only be referred to under certain high-sounding titles, such as “the august,” “the perfect,” “the supreme,” “the great emperor,” “descendant of the angels,” and so on.(1409) In Burma it was accounted an impiety of the deepest dye to mention the name of the reigning sovereign; Burmese subjects, even when they were far from their country, could not be prevailed upon to do so;(1410) after his accession to the throne the king was known by his royal titles only.(1411) The proper name of the Emperor of China may neither be pronounced nor written by any of his subjects.(1412) Coreans were formerly forbidden, under severe penalties, to utter the king’s name, which, indeed, was seldom known.(1413) When a prince ascends the throne of Cambodia he ceases to be designated by his real name; and if that name happens to be a common word in the language, the word is often changed. Thus, for example, since the reign of King Ang Duong the word _duong_, which meant a small coin, has been replaced by _dom_.(1414) In the island of Sunda it is taboo to utter any word which coincides with the name of a prince or chief.(1415) The name of the rajah of Bolang Mongondo, a district in the west of Celebes, is never mentioned except in case of urgent necessity, and even then his pardon must be asked repeatedly before the liberty is taken.(1416) In the island of Sumba people do not mention the real name of a prince, but refer to him by the name of the first slave whom in his youth he became master of. This slave is regarded by the chief as his second self, and he enjoys practical impunity for any misdeeds he may commit.(1417)

(M227) Among the Zulus no man will mention the name of the chief of his tribe or the names of the progenitors of the chief, so far as he can remember them; nor will he utter common words which coincide with or merely resemble in sound tabooed names. “As, for instance, the Zungu tribe say _mata_ for _manzi_ (water), and _inkosta_ for _tshanti_ (grass), and _embigatdu_ for _umkondo_ (assegai), and _inyatugo_ for _enhlela_ (path), because their present chief is Umfan-o inhlela, his father was Manzini, his grandfather Imkondo, and one before him Tshani.” In the tribe of the Dwandwes there was a chief called Langa, which means the sun; hence the name of the sun was changed from _langa_ to _gala_, and so remains to this day, though Langa died more than a hundred years ago. Once more, in the Xnumayo tribe the word meaning “to herd cattle” was changed from _alusa_ or _ayusa_ to _kagesa_, because u-Mayusi was the name of the chief. Besides these taboos, which were observed by each tribe separately, all the Zulu tribes united in tabooing the name of the king who reigned over the whole nation. Hence, for example, when Panda was king of Zululand, the word for “a root of a tree,” which is _impando_, was changed to _nxabo_. Again, the word for “lies” or “slander” was altered from _amacebo_ to _amakwata_, because _amacebo_ contains a syllable of the name of the famous King Cetchwayo. These substitutions are not, however, carried so far by the men as by the women, who omit every sound even remotely resembling one that occurs in a tabooed name. At the king’s kraal, indeed, it is sometimes difficult to understand the speech of the royal wives, as they treat in this fashion the names not only of the king and his forefathers, but even of his and their brothers back for generations. When to these tribal and national taboos we add those family taboos on the names of connexions by marriage which have been already described,(1418) we can easily understand how it comes about that in Zululand every tribe has words peculiar to itself, and that the women have a considerable vocabulary of their own. Members, too, of one family may be debarred from using words employed by those of another. The women of one kraal, for instance, may call a hyaena by its ordinary name; those of the next may use the common substitute; while in a third the substitute may also be unlawful and another term may have to be invented to supply its place. Hence the Zulu language at the present day almost presents the appearance of being a double one; indeed, for multitudes of things it possesses three or four synonyms, which through the blending of tribes are known all over Zululand.(1419)

(M228) In Madagascar a similar custom everywhere prevails and has resulted, as among the Zulus, in producing certain dialectic differences in the speech of the various tribes. There are no family names in Madagascar, and almost every personal name is drawn from the language of daily life and signifies some common object or action or quality, such as a bird, a beast, a tree, a plant, a colour, and so on. Now, whenever one of these common words forms the name or part of the name of the chief of the tribe, it becomes sacred and may no longer be used in its ordinary signification as the name of a tree, an insect, or what not. Hence a new name for the object must be invented to replace the one which has been discarded. Often the new name consists of a descriptive epithet or a periphrasis. Thus when the princess Rabodo became queen in 1863 she took the name of Rasoherina. Now _soherina_ was the word for the silkworm moth, but having been assumed as the name of the sovereign it could no longer be applied to the insect, which ever since has been called _zany-dandy_, “offspring of silk.” So, again, if a chief had or took the name of an animal, say of the dog (_amboa_), and was known as Ramboa, the animal would henceforth be called by another name, probably a descriptive one, such as “the barker” (_famovo_) or “the driver away” (_fandroaka_), etc. In the western part of Imerina there was a chief called Andria-mamba; but _mamba_ was one of the names of the crocodile, so the chiefs subjects might not call the reptile by that name and were always scrupulous to use another. It is easy to conceive what confusion and uncertainty may thus be introduced into a language when it is spoken by many little local tribes each ruled by a petty chief with his own sacred name. Yet there are tribes and people who submit to this tyranny of words as their fathers did before them from time immemorial. The inconvenient results of the custom are especially marked on the western coast of the island, where, on account of the large number of independent chieftains, the names of things, places, and rivers have suffered so many changes that confusion often arises, for when once common words have been banned by the chiefs the natives will not acknowledge to have ever known them in their old sense.(1420)

(M229) But it is not merely the names of living kings and chiefs which are tabooed in Madagascar; the names of dead sovereigns are equally under a ban, at least in some parts of the island. Thus among the Sakalavas, when a king has died, the nobles and people meet in council round the dead body and solemnly choose a new name by which the deceased monarch shall be henceforth known. The new name always begins with _andrian_, “lord,” and ends with _arrivou_, “thousand,” to signify that the late king ruled over a numerous nation. The body of the name is composed of an epithet or phrase descriptive of the deceased or of his reign. After the new name has been adopted, the old name by which the king was known during his life becomes sacred and may not be pronounced under pain of death. Further, words in the common language which bear any resemblance to the forbidden name also become sacred and have to be replaced by others. For example, after the death of King Makka the word _laka_, which meant a canoe, was abandoned and the word _fiounrâma_ substituted for it. When Taoussi died, the word _taoussi_, signifying “beautiful,” was replaced by _senga_. For similar reasons the word _ântétsi_, “old,” was changed for _matoué_, which properly means “ripe”; the word _voûssi_, “castrated,” was dropped and _manapaka_, “cut,” adopted in its place; and the word for island (_nossi_) was changed into _varioû_, which signifies strictly “a place where there is rice.” Again, when a Sakalava king named Marentoetsa died, two words fell into disuse, namely, the word _màry_ or _màre_ meaning “true,” and the word _toetsa_ meaning “condition.” Persons who uttered these forbidden words were looked on not only as grossly rude, but even as felons; they had committed a capital crime. However, these changes of vocabulary are confined to the district over which the deceased king reigned; in the neighbouring districts the old words continue to be employed in the old sense.(1421) Again, among the Bara, another tribe of Madagascar, “the memory of their deceased kings is held in the very highest respect; the name of such kings is considered sacred—too sacred indeed for utterance, and no one is allowed to pronounce it. To such a length is this absurdity carried that the name of any person or thing whatsoever, if it bear a resemblance to the name of the deceased king, is no longer used, but some other designation is given. For instance, there was a king named Andriamasoandro. After his decease the word _masoandro_ was no longer employed as the name of the sun, but _mahenika_ was substituted for it.”(1422) An eminent authority on Madagascar has observed: “A curious fact, which has had a very marked influence on the Malagasy language, is the custom of no longer pronouncing the name of a dead person nor even the words which resemble it in their conclusions. The name is replaced by another. King Ramitra, since his decease, has been called Mahatenatenarivou, ’the prince who has conquered a thousand foes,’ and a Malagasy who should utter his old name would be regarded as the murderer of the prince, and would therefore be liable to the confiscation of his property, or even to the penalty of death. It is easy accordingly to understand how the Malagasy language, one in its origin, has been corrupted, and how it comes about that at the present day there are discrepancies between the various dialects. In Menabe, since the death of King Vinany, the word _vilany_, meaning a pot, has been replaced by _fiketrehane_, ‘cooking vessel,’ whereas the old word continues in use in the rest of Madagascar. These changes, it is true, hardly take place except for kings and great chiefs.”(1423)

(M230) The sanctity attributed to the persons of chiefs in Polynesia naturally extended also to their names, which on the primitive view are hardly separable from the personality of their owners. Hence in Polynesia we find the same systematic prohibition to utter the names of chiefs or of common words resembling them which we have already met with in Zululand and Madagascar. Thus in New Zealand the name of a chief is held so sacred that, when it happens to be a common word, it may not be used in the language, and another has to be found to replace it. For example, a chief to the southward of East Cape bore the name of Maripi, which signified a knife, hence a new word (_nekra_) for knife was introduced, and the old one became obsolete. Elsewhere the word for water (_wai_) had to be changed, because it chanced to be the name of the chief, and would have been desecrated by being applied to the vulgar fluid as well as to his sacred person. This taboo naturally produced a plentiful crop of synonyms in the Maori language, and travellers newly arrived in the country were sometimes puzzled at finding the same things called by quite different names in neighbouring tribes.(1424) When a king comes to the throne in Tahiti, any words in the language that resemble his name in sound must be changed for others. In former times, if any man were so rash as to disregard this custom and to use the forbidden words, not only he but all his relations were immediately put to death.(1425) On the accession of King Otoo, which happened before Vancouver’s visit to Tahiti, the proper names of all the chiefs were changed, as well as forty or fifty of the commonest words in the language, and every native was obliged to adopt the new terms, for any neglect to do so was punished with the greatest severity.(1426) When a certain king named Tu came to the throne of Tahiti the word _tu_, which means “to stand,” was changed to _tia_; _fetu_, “a star,” became _fetia_; _tui_, “to strike,” was turned into _tiai_, and so on. Sometimes, as in these instances, the new names were formed by merely changing or dropping some letter or letters of the original words; in other cases the substituted terms were entirely different words, whether chosen for their similarity of meaning though not of sound, or adopted from another dialect, or arbitrarily invented. But the changes thus introduced were only temporary; on the death of the king the new words fell into disuse, and the original ones were revived.(1427) Similarly in Samoa, when the name of a sacred chief was that of an animal or bird, the name of the animal or bird was at once changed for another, and the old one might never again be uttered in that chief’s district. For example, a sacred Samoan chief was named Pe’a, which means “flying-fox.” Hence in his district a flying-fox was no longer called a flying-fox but a “bird of heaven” (_manu langi_).(1428)

(M231) In ancient Greece the names of the priests and other high officials who had to do with the performances of the Eleusinian mysteries might not be uttered in their lifetime. To pronounce them was a legal offence. The pedant in Lucian tells how he fell in with these august personages hailing along to the police court a ribald fellow who had dared to name them, though well he knew that ever since their consecration it was unlawful to do so, because they had become anonymous, having lost their old names and acquired new and sacred titles.(1429) From two inscriptions found at Eleusis it appears that the names of the priests were committed to the depths of the sea;(1430) probably they were engraved on tablets of bronze or lead, which were then thrown into deep water in the Gulf of Salamis. The intention doubtless was to keep the names a profound secret; and how could that be done more surely than by sinking them in the sea? what human vision could spy them glimmering far down in the dim depths of the green water? A clearer illustration of the confusion between the incorporeal and the corporeal, between the name and its material embodiment, could hardly be found than in this practice of civilised Greece.

(M232) In Togo, a district of West Africa, a secret religious society flourishes under the name of the Yewe order. Both men and women are admitted to it. The teaching and practice of the order are lewd and licentious. Murderers and debtors join it for the sake of escaping from justice, for the members are not amenable to the laws. On being initiated every one receives a new name, and thenceforth his or her old name may never be mentioned by anybody under penalty of a heavy fine. Should the old name be uttered in a quarrel by an uninitiated person, the aggrieved party, who seems to be oftener a woman than a man, pretends to fall into a frenzy, and in this state rushes into the house of the offender, smashes his pots, destroys the grass roof, and tears down the fence. Then she runs away into the forest, where the simple people believe that she is changed into a leopard. In truth she slinks by night into the conventual buildings of the order, and is there secretly kept in comfort till the business is settled. At last she is publicly brought back by the society with great pomp, her body smeared with red earth and adorned with an artificial tail in order to make the ignorant think that she has really been turned into a leopard.(1431)

(M233) When the name is held to be a vital part of the person, it is natural to suppose that the mightier the person the more potent must be his name. Hence the names of supernatural beings, such as gods and spirits, are commonly believed to be endowed with marvellous virtues, and the mere utterance of them may work wonders and disturb the course of nature. The Warramunga of central Australia believe in a formidable but mythical snake called the Wollunqua, which lives in a pool. When they speak of it amongst themselves they designate it by another name, because they say that, were they to call the snake too often by its real name, they would lose control over the creature, and it would come out of the water and eat them all up.(1432) For this reason, too, the sacred books of the Mongols, which narrate the miraculous deeds of the divinities, are allowed to be read only in spring or summer; because at other seasons the reading of them would bring on tempests or snow.(1433) When Mr. Campbell was travelling with some Bechuanas, he asked them one morning after breakfast to tell him some of their stories, but they informed him that were they to do so before sunset, the clouds would fall from the heavens upon their heads.(1434) The Sulka of New Britain believe in a certain hostile spirit named Kot, to whose wrath they attribute earthquakes, thunder, and lightning. Among the things which provoke his vengeance is the telling of tales and legends by day; stories should be told only at evening or night.(1435) Most of the rites of the Navajo Indians may be celebrated only in winter, when the thunder is silent and the rattlesnakes are hibernating. Were they to tell of their chief gods or narrate the myths of the days of old at any other time, the Indians believe that they would soon be killed by lightning or snake-bites. When Dr. Washington Matthews was in New Mexico, he often employed as his guide and informant a liberal-minded member of the tribe who had lived with Americans and Mexicans and seemed to be free from the superstitions of his fellows. “On one occasion,” says Dr. Matthews, “during the month of August, in the height of the rainy season, I had him in my study conversing with him. In an unguarded moment, on his part, I led him into a discussion about the gods of his people, and neither of us had noticed a heavy storm coming over the crest of the Zuñi mountains, close by. We were just talking of Estsanatlehi, the goddess of the west, when the house was shaken by a terrific peal of thunder. He rose at once, pale and evidently agitated, and, whispering hoarsely, ‘Wait till Christmas; they are angry,’ he hurried away. I have seen many such evidences of the deep influence of this superstition on them.”(1436) Among the Iroquois the rehearsal of tales of wonder formed the chief entertainment at the fireside in winter. But all the summer long, from the time when the trees began to bud in spring till the red leaves of autumn began to fall, these marvellous stories were hushed and historical traditions took their place.(1437) Other Indian tribes also will only tell their mythic tales in winter, when the snow lies like a pall on the ground, and lakes and rivers are covered with sheets of ice; for then the spirits underground cannot hear the stories in which their names are made free with by merry groups gathered round the fire.(1438) The Yabims of German New Guinea tell their magical tales especially at the time when the yams have been gathered and are stored in the houses. Such tales are told at evening by the light of the fire to a circle of eager listeners, the narrative being broken from time to time with a song in which the hearers join. The telling of these stories is believed to promote the growth of the crops. Hence each tale ends with a wish that there may be many yams, that the taro may be big, the sugar-cane thick, and the bananas long.(1439)

(M234) Among the Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia the superstition about names has affected in a very curious way the social structure of the tribe. The nobles have two different sets of names, one for use in winter and the other in summer. Their winter names are those which were given them at initiation by their guardian spirits, and as these spirits appear to their devotees only in winter, the names which they bestowed on the Indians may not be pronounced in summer. Conversely the summer names may not be used in winter. The change from summer to winter names takes place from the moment when the spirits are supposed to be present, and it involves a complete transformation of the social system; for whereas during summer the people are grouped in clans, in winter they are grouped in societies, each society consisting of all persons who have been initiated by the same spirit and have received from him the same magical powers. Thus among these Indians the fundamental constitution of society changes with the seasons: in summer it is organised on a basis of kin, in winter on a basis of spiritual affinity: for one half the year it is civil, for the other half religious.(1440)

§ 5. Names of Gods tabooed.

(M235) Primitive man creates his gods in his own image. Xenophanes remarked long ago that the complexion of negro gods was black and their noses flat; that Thracian gods were ruddy and blue-eyed; and that if horses, oxen, and lions only believed in gods and had hands wherewith to portray them, they would doubtless fashion their deities in the form of horses, and oxen, and lions.(1441) Hence just as the furtive savage conceals his real name because he fears that sorcerers might make an evil use of it, so he fancies that his gods must likewise keep their true names secret, lest other gods or even men should learn the mystic sounds and thus be able to conjure with them. Nowhere was this crude conception of the secrecy and magical virtue of the divine name more firmly held or more fully developed than in ancient Egypt, where the superstitions of a dateless past were embalmed in the hearts of the people hardly less effectually than the bodies of cats and crocodiles and the rest of the divine menagerie in their rock-cut tombs. The conception is well illustrated by a story which tells how the subtle Isis wormed his secret name from Ra, the great Egyptian god of the sun. Isis, so runs the tale, was a woman mighty in words, and she was weary of the world of men, and yearned after the world of the gods. And she meditated in her heart, saying, “Cannot I by virtue of the great name of Ra make myself a goddess and reign like him in heaven and earth?” For Ra had many names, but the great name which gave him all power over gods and men was known to none but himself. Now the god was by this time grown old; he slobbered at the mouth and his spittle fell upon the ground. So Isis gathered up the spittle and the earth with it, and kneaded thereof a serpent and laid it in the path where the great god passed every day to his double kingdom after his heart’s desire. And when he came forth according to his wont, attended by all his company of gods, the sacred serpent stung him, and the god opened his mouth and cried, and his cry went up to heaven. And the company of gods cried, “What aileth thee?” and the gods shouted, “Lo and behold!” But he could not answer; his jaws rattled, his limbs shook, the poison ran through his flesh as the Nile floweth over the land. When the great god had stilled his heart, he cried to his followers, “Come to me, O my children, offspring of my body. I am a prince, the son of a prince, the divine seed of a god. My father devised my name; my father and my mother gave me my name, and it remained hidden in my body since my birth, that no magician might have magic power over me. I went out to behold that which I have made, I walked in the two lands which I have created, and lo! something stung me. What it was, I know not. Was it fire? was it water? My heart is on fire, my flesh trembleth, all my limbs do quake. Bring me the children of the gods with healing words and understanding lips, whose power reacheth to heaven.” Then came to him the children of the gods, and they were very sorrowful. And Isis came with her craft, whose mouth is full of the breath of life, whose spells chase pain away, whose word maketh the dead to live. She said, “What is it, divine Father? what is it?” The holy god opened his mouth, he spake and said, “I went upon my way, I walked after my heart’s desire in the two regions which I have made to behold that which I have created, and lo! a serpent that I saw not stung me. Is it fire? is it water? I am colder than water, I am hotter than fire, all my limbs sweat, I tremble, mine eye is not steadfast, I behold not the sky, the moisture bedeweth my face as in summer-time.” Then spake Isis, “Tell me thy name, divine Father, for the man shall live who is called by his name.” Then answered Ra, “I created the heavens and the earth, I ordered the mountains, I made the great and wide sea, I stretched out the two horizons like a curtain. I am he who openeth his eyes and it is light, and who shutteth them and it is dark. At his command the Nile riseth, but the gods know not his name. I am Khepera in the morning, I am Ra at noon, I am Tum at eve.” But the poison was not taken away from him; it pierced deeper, and the great god could no longer walk. Then said Isis to him, “That was not thy name that thou spakest unto me. Oh tell it me, that the poison may depart; for he shall live whose name is named.” Now the poison burned like fire, it was hotter than the flame of fire. The god said, “I consent that Isis shall search into me, and that my name shall pass from my breast into hers.” Then the god hid himself from the gods, and his place in the ship of eternity was empty. Thus was the name of the great god taken from him, and Isis, the witch, spake, “Flow away poison, depart from Ra. It is I, even I, who overcome the poison and cast it to the earth; for the name of the great god hath been taken away from him. Let Ra live and let the poison die.” Thus spake great Isis, the queen of the gods, she who knows Ra and his true name.(1442)

(M236) Thus we see that the real name of the god, with which his power was inextricably bound up, was supposed to be lodged, in an almost physical sense, somewhere in his breast, from which it could be extracted by a sort of surgical operation and transferred with all its supernatural powers to the breast of another. In Egypt attempts like that of Isis to appropriate the power of a high god by possessing herself of his name were not mere legends told of the mythical beings of a remote past; every Egyptian magician aspired to wield like powers by similar means. For it was believed that he who possessed the true name possessed the very being of god or man, and could force even a deity to obey him as a slave obeys his master. Thus the art of the magician consisted in obtaining from the gods a revelation of their sacred names, and he left no stone unturned to accomplish his end. When once a god in a moment of weakness or forgetfulness had imparted to the wizard the wondrous lore, the deity had no choice but to submit humbly to the man or pay the penalty of his contumacy.(1443) In one papyrus we find the god Typhon thus adjured: “I invoke thee by thy true names, in virtue of which thou canst not refuse to hear me”; and in another the magician threatens Osiris that if the god does not do his bidding he will name him aloud in the port of Busiris.(1444) So in the Lucan the Thessalian witch whom Sextus Pompeius consulted before the battle of Pharsalia threatens to call up the Furies by their real names if they will not do her bidding.(1445) In modern Egypt the magician still works his old enchantments by the same ancient means; only the name of the god by which he conjures is different. The man who knows “the most great name” of God can, we are told, by the mere utterance of it kill the living, raise the dead, transport himself instantly wherever he pleases, and perform any other miracle.(1446) Similarly among the Arabs of North Africa at the present day “the power of the name is such that when one knows the proper names the jinn can scarcely help answering the call and obeying; they are the servants of the magical names; in this case the incantation has a constraining quality which is for the most part very strongly marked. When Ibn el Hâdjdj et-Tlemsânî relates how the jinn yielded up their secrets to him, he says, ‘I once met the seven kings of the jinn in a cave and I asked them to teach me the way in which they attack men and women, causing them to fall sick, smiting them, paralysing them, and the like. They all answered me: “If it were anybody but you we would teach that to nobody, but you have discovered the bonds, the spells, and the names which compel us; were it not for the names by which you have constrained us, we would not have answered to your call.” ’ ”(1447) So, too, “the Chinese of ancient times were dominated by the notion that beings are intimately associated with their names, so that a man’s knowledge of the name of a spectre might enable him to exert power over the latter and to bend it to his will.”(1448)

(M237) The belief in the magic virtue of divine names was shared by the Romans. When they sat down before a city, the priests addressed the guardian deity of the place in a set form of prayer or incantation, inviting him to abandon the beleaguered city and come over to the Romans, who would treat him as well as or better than he had ever been treated in his old home. Hence the name of the guardian deity of Rome was kept a profound secret, lest the enemies of the republic might lure him away, even as the Romans themselves had induced many gods to desert, like rats, the falling fortunes of cities that had sheltered them in happier days.(1449) Nay, the real name, not merely of its guardian deity, but of the city itself, was wrapt in mystery and might never be uttered, not even in the sacred rites. A certain Valerius Soranus, who dared to divulge the priceless secret, was put to death or came to a bad end.(1450) In like manner, it seems, the ancient Assyrians were forbidden to mention the mystic names of their cities;(1451) and down to modern times the Cheremiss of the Caucasus keep the names of their communal villages secret from motives of superstition.(1452)

(M238) If the reader has had the patience to follow this long and perhaps tedious examination of the superstitions attaching to personal names, he will probably agree that the mystery in which the names of royal personages are so often shrouded is no isolated phenomenon, no arbitrary expression of courtly servility and adulation, but merely the particular application of a general law of primitive thought, which includes within its scope common folk and gods as well as kings and priests.

§ 6. Common Words tabooed.

(M239) But personal names are not the only words which superstitious fears have banished from everyday use. In many cases similar motives forbid certain persons at certain times to call common things by common names, thus obliging them either to refrain from mentioning these things altogether or to designate them by special terms or phrases reserved for such occasions. A consideration of these cases follows naturally on an examination of the taboos imposed upon personal names; for personal names are themselves very often ordinary terms of the language, so that an embargo laid on them necessarily extends to many expressions current in the commerce of daily life. And though a survey of some of the interdicts on common words is not strictly necessary for our immediate purpose, it may serve usefully to complete our view of the transforming influence which superstition has exercised on language. I shall make no attempt to subject the examples to a searching analysis or a rigid classification, but will set them down as they come in a rough geographical order. And since my native land furnishes as apt instances of the superstition as any other, we may start on our round from Scotland.

(M240) In the Atlantic Ocean, about six leagues to the west of Gallon Head in the Lewis, lies a small group of rocky islets known as the Flannan Islands. Sheep and wild fowl are now their only inhabitants, but remains of what are described as Druidical temples and the title of the Sacred Isles given them by Buchanan suggest that in days gone by piety or superstition may have found a safe retreat from the turmoil of the world in these remote solitudes, where the dashing of the waves and the strident scream of the sea-birds are almost the only sounds that break the silence. Once a year, in summer-time, the inhabitants of the adjacent lands of the Lewis, who have a right to these islands, cross over to them to fleece their sheep and kill the wild fowl for the sake both of their flesh and their feathers. They regard the islands as invested with a certain sanctity, and have been heard to say that none ever yet landed in them but found himself more disposed to devotion there than anywhere else. Accordingly the fowlers who go thither are bound, during the whole of the time that they ply their business, to observe very punctiliously certain quaint customs, the transgression of which would be sure, in their opinion, to entail some serious inconvenience. When they have landed and fastened their boat to the side of a rock, they clamber up into the island by a wooden ladder, and no sooner are they got to the top, than they all uncover their heads and make a turn sun-ways round about, thanking God for their safety. On the biggest of the islands are the ruins of a chapel dedicated to St. Flannan. When the men come within about twenty paces of the altar, they all strip themselves of their upper garments at once and betake themselves to their devotions, praying thrice before they begin fowling. On the first day the first prayer is offered as they advance towards the chapel on their knees; the second is said as they go round the chapel; and the third is said in or hard by the ruins. They also pray thrice every evening, and account it unlawful to kill a fowl after evening prayers, as also to kill a fowl at any time with a stone. Another ancient custom forbids the crew to carry home in the boat any suet of the sheep they slaughter in the islands, however many they may kill. But what here chiefly concerns us is that so long as they stay on the islands they are strictly forbidden to use certain common words, and are obliged to substitute others for them. Thus it is absolutely unlawful to call the island of St. Kilda, which lies thirty leagues to the southward, by its proper Gaelic name of Hirt; they must call it only “the high country.” They may not so much as once name the islands in which they are fowling by the ordinary name of Flannan; they must speak only of “the country.” “There are several other things that must not be called by their common names: _e.g._ _visk_, which in the language of the natives signifies water, they call burn; a rock, which in their language is _creg_, must here be called _cruey_, _i.e._ hard; shore in their language expressed by _claddach_, must here be called _vah_, _i.e._ a cave; sour in their language is expressed _gort_, but must here be called _gaire_, _i.e._ sharp; slippery, which is expressed _bog_, must be called soft; and several other things to this purpose.”(1453) When Highlanders were in a boat at sea, whether sailing or fishing, they were forbidden to call things by the names by which they were known on land. Thus the boat-hook should not be called a _croman_, but a _chliob_; a knife not _sgian_, but “the sharp one” (_a ghiar_); a seal not _ròn_, but “the bald beast” (_béisd mhaol_); a fox not _sionnach_, but “the red dog” (_madadh ruadh_); the stone for anchoring the boat not _clach_, but “hardness” (_cruaidh_). This practice now prevails much more on the east coast than on the west, where it may be said to be generally extinct. It is reported to be carefully observed by the fishermen about the Cromarty Firth.(1454) Among the words tabooed by fishermen in the north of Scotland when they are at sea are minister, salmon, hare, rabbit, rat, pig, and porpoise. At the present day if some of the boats that come to the herring-fishing at Wick should meet a salmon-boat from Reay in Caithness, the herring-men will not speak to, nor even look at, the salmon-fishers.(1455)

(M241) When Shetland fishermen are at sea, they employ a nomenclature peculiar to the occasion, and hardly anything may be mentioned by its usual name. The substituted terms are mostly of Norwegian origin, for the Norway men were reported to be good fishers.(1456) In setting their lines the Shetland fishermen are bound to refer to certain objects only by some special words or phrases. Thus a knife is then called a _skunie_ or _tullie_; a church becomes _buanhoos_ or _banehoos_; a minister is _upstanda_ or _haydeen_ or _prestingolva_; the devil is _da auld chield_, _da sorrow_, _da ill-healt_ (health), or _da black tief_; a cat is _kirser_, _fitting_, _vengla_, or _foodin_.(1457) On the north-east coast of Scotland there are some villages, of which the inhabitants never pronounce certain words and family names when they are at sea; each village has its peculiar aversion to one or more of these words, among which are “minister,” “kirk,” “swine,” “salmon,” “trout,” and “dog.” When a church has to be referred to, as often happens, since some of the churches serve as land-marks to the fishermen at sea, it is spoken of as the “bell-hoose” instead of the “kirk.” A minister is called “the man wi’ the black quyte.” It is particularly unlucky to utter the word “sow” or “swine” or “pig” while the line is being baited; if any one is foolish enough to do so, the line is sure to be lost. In some villages on the coast of Fife a fisherman who hears the ill-omened word spoken will cry out “Cold iron.” In the village of Buckie there are some family names, especially Ross, and in a less degree Coull, which no fisherman will pronounce. If one of these names be mentioned in the hearing of a fisherman, he spits or, as he calls it, “chiffs.” Any one who bears the dreaded name is called a “chiffer-oot,” and is referred to only by a circumlocution such as “The man it diz so in so,” or “the laad it lives at such and such a place.” During the herring-season men who are unlucky enough to inherit the tabooed names have little chance of being hired in the fishing-boats; and sometimes, if they have been hired before their names were known, they have been refused their wages at the end of the season, because the boat in which they sailed had not been successful, and the bad luck was set down to their presence in it.(1458) Although in Scotland superstitions of this kind appear to be specially incident to the callings of fishermen and fowlers, other occupations are not exempt from them. Thus in the Outer Hebrides the fire of a kiln is not called fire (_teine_) but _aingeal_. Such a fire, it is said, is a dangerous thing, and ought not to be referred to except by a euphemism. “Evil be to him who called it fire or who named fire in the kiln. It was considered the next thing to setting it on fire.”(1459) Again, in some districts of Scotland a brewer would have resented the use of the word “water” in reference to the work in which he was engaged. “Water be your part of it,” was the common retort. It was supposed that the use of the word would spoil the brewing.(1460) The Highlanders say that when you meet a hobgoblin, and the fiend asks what is the name of your dirk, you should not call it a dirk (_biodag_), but “my father’s sister” (_piuthar m’athar_) or “my grandmother’s sister” (_piuthar mo sheanamhair_) or by some similar title. If you do not observe this precaution, the goblin will lay such an enchantment on the blade that you will be unable to stab him with it; the dirk will merely make a tinkling noise against the soft impalpable body of the fiend.(1461)

(M242) Manx fishermen think it unlucky to mention a horse or a mouse on board a fishing-boat.(1462) The fishermen of Dieppe on board their boats will not speak of several things, for instance priests and cats.(1463) German huntsmen, from motives of superstition, call everything by names different from those in common use.(1464) In some parts of Bavaria the farmer will not mention a fox by its proper name, lest his poultry-yard should suffer from the ravages of the animal. So instead of _Fuchs_ he calls the beast _Loinl_, _Henoloinl_, _Henading_, or _Henabou_.(1465) In Prussia and Lithuania they say that in the month of December you should not call a wolf a wolf but “the vermin” (_das Gewürm_), otherwise you will be torn in pieces by the werewolves.(1466) In various parts of Germany it is a rule that certain animals may not be mentioned by their proper names in the mystic season between Christmas and Twelfth Night. Thus in Thüringen they say that if you would be spared by the wolves you must not mention their name at this time.(1467) In Mecklenburg people think that were they to name a wolf on one of these days the animal would appear. A shepherd would rather mention the devil than the wolf at this season; and we read of a farmer who had a bailiff named Wolf, but did not dare to call the man by his name between Christmas and Twelfth Night, referring to him instead as Herr Undeert (Mr. Monster). In Quatzow, a village of Mecklenburg, there are many animals whose common names are disused at this season and replaced by others: thus a fox is called “long-tail,” and a mouse “leg-runner” (_Boenlöper_). Any person who disregards the custom has to pay a fine.(1468) In the Mark of Brandenburg they say that between Christmas and Twelfth Night you should not speak of mice as mice but as _dinger_; otherwise the field-mice would multiply excessively.(1469) According to the Swedish popular belief, there are certain animals which should never be spoken of by their proper names, but must always be signified by euphemisms and kind allusions to their character. Thus, if you speak slightingly of the cat or beat her, you must be sure not to mention her name; for she belongs to the hellish crew, and is a friend of the mountain troll, whom she often visits. Great caution is also needed in talking of the cuckoo, the owl, and the magpie, for they are birds of witchery. The fox must be called “blue-foot,” or “he that goes in the forest”; and rats are “the long-bodied,” mice “the small grey,” and the seal “brother Lars.” Swedish herd-girls, again, believe that if the wolf and the bear be called by other than their proper and legitimate names, they will not attack the herd. Hence they give these brutes names which they fancy will not hurt their feelings. The number of endearing appellations lavished by them on the wolf is legion; they call him “golden tooth,” “the silent one,” “grey legs,” and so on; while the bear is referred to by the respectful titles of “the old man,” “grandfather,” “twelve men’s strength,” “golden feet,” and more of the same sort. Even inanimate things are not always to be called by their usual names. For instance, fire is sometimes to be called “heat” (_hetta_) not _eld_ or _ell_; water for brewing must be called _lag_ or _löu_, not _vatn_, else the beer would not turn out so well.(1470) The Huzuls of the Carpathians, a pastoral people, who dread the ravages of wild beasts on their flocks and herds, are unwilling to mention the bear by his proper name, so they call him respectfully “the little uncle” or “the big one.” In like manner and for similar reasons they name the wolf “the little one” and the serpent “the long one.”(1471) They may not say that wool is scalded, or in the heat of summer the sheep would rub themselves till their sides were raw; so they merely say that the wool is warmed.(1472) The Lapps fear to call the bear by his true name, lest he should ravage their herds; so they speak of him as “the old man with the coat of skin,” and in cooking his flesh to furnish a meal they may not refer to the work they are engaged in as “cooking,” but must designate it by a special term.(1473) The Finns speak of the bear as “the apple of the wood,” “beautiful honey-paw,” “the pride of the thicket,” “the old man,” and so on.(1474) And in general a Finnish hunter thinks that he will have poor sport if he calls animals by their real names; the beasts resent it. The fox and the hare are only spoken of as “game,” and the lynx is termed “the forest cat,” lest it should devour the sheep.(1475) Esthonian peasants are very loth to mention wild beasts by their proper names, for they believe that the creatures will not do so much harm if only they are called by other names than their own. Hence they speak of the bear as “broad foot” and the wolf as “grey coat.”(1476)

(M243) The natives of Siberia are unwilling to call a bear a bear; they speak of him as “the little old man,” “the master of the forest,” “the sage,” “the respected one.” Some who are more familiar style him “my cousin.”(1477) The Kamtchatkans reverence the whale, the bear, and the wolf from fear, and never mention their names when they meet them, believing that they understand human speech.(1478) Further, they think that mice also understand the Kamtchatkan language; so in autumn, when they rob the field-mice of the bulbs which these little creatures have laid up in their burrows as a store against winter, they call everything by names different from the ordinary ones, lest the mice should know what they were saying. Moreover, they leave odds and ends, such as old rags, broken needles, cedar-nuts, and so forth, in the burrows, to make the mice think that the transaction has been not a robbery but a fair exchange. If they did not do that, they fancy that the mice would go and drown or hang themselves out of pure vexation; and then what would the Kamtchatkans do without the mice to gather the bulbs for them? They also speak kindly to the animals, and beg them not to take it ill, explaining that what they do is done out of pure friendship.(1479) The Cherokee Indians regard the rattlesnake as a superior being and take great pains not to offend him. They never say that a man has been bitten by a snake but that he has been “scratched by a briar.” In like manner, when an eagle has been shot for a ceremonial dance, it is announced that “a snowbird has been killed.” The purpose is to deceive the spirits of rattlesnakes or eagles which might be listening.(1480) The Esquimaux of Bering Strait think that some animals can hear and understand what is said of them at a distance. Hence, when a hunter is going out to kill bears he will speak of them with the greatest respect and give out that he is going to hunt some other beast. Thus the bears will be deceived and taken unawares.(1481) Among the Esquimaux of Baffin Land, women in mourning may not mention the names of any animals.(1482) Among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia, children may not name the coyote or prairie wolf in winter, lest he should turn on his back and so bring cold weather.(1483)