The Old Germanic word for “army” sounded approximately like harjaz.
Its Modern German continuation is Heer, and nearly the same word is used
in Icelandic, Norwegian, and Danish (army is a borrowing from French;
the idea of this word is “armed force”). English has lost harjaz,
but it is astounding how many words contain its root and how seldom we realize
that they are related. Herman ~ Hermann and
Herbert (-bert means “bright”) hearken back to the warlike
past of their ancestors. The original form of Oliver was Aelfhere:
elf + -here “troop, band, army” (no connection with Olaf), and -er
in Walter also goes back to harjaz (Walt- is related to wield).
Soldiers supposedly made a circle and listened to their
commander, whose passionate address made them perform heroic deeds. From harihring
“a ring formed by the troops” Engl. harangue is supposed to have
descended, but the reconstructed Germanic word was adopted by Romance-speakers
(French harangue, Spanish arenga, Italian arringa) and
returned to English from French, so that many details in its history are
unclear. That invading soldiers were not friendly to the local population
needs no proof; hence the verb harry “overrun with an army” (spelled herien
in Old English) and its doublet harrow (as in the harrowing of hell;
not akin to harrow, the implement). It is well-known who follows
every army. The etymology of harlot has been discussed innumerable
times, and hypotheses on its origin are almost as many as there are scholars
who have grappled with this intractable word. Perhaps har- is
“army” and -lot some word with a pejorative meaning
Harness no longer smacks of belligerency. Like harangue,
it is a loan from French. (The term loanword, a synonym of borrowing,
has caused protest on the part of some historical linguists, for who has seen a
word returned to the lending language? However, if exhibits can be on
permanent loan, words can probably be too.) Its source is believed to be
Old Norse hernest “provisions for an army” (nesti means “food” in
Modern Icelandic). The earliest, 13th-century, recorded
meaning of harness was “equipment.” “Trappings of a horse; tackle,
gear” are later developments. In Middle English, the duty of a herbergere
was to provide a herberg, originally “shelter for an army” (her-
is already familiar, berg- is the root of a verb meaning “to
protect”). Modern English has ended up with harbinger and harbor.
French auberge and Italian albergo “inn” are doublets of harbor:
all of them are safe havens. Herald has an element (-ald,
from wald-) at the end that stands at the beginning of Walter,
formerly Walther. Walter and herald are, consequently, anagrams
of each other. Harald ~ Harold mean the same as herald
“host wielder; he who has power over the troops.” To us heralds are ceremonial
messengers, remembered mainly because of the words heraldry and heraldic.
Harbinger, harbor, and herald migrated to Old French from Germanic),
and then penetrated English in their French guise.
Words travel easily across state borders, but it is not
always easy to explain which are chosen for appropriation by foreign
speakers. In one of my earlier posts, I mentioned the fact that the
lengthening of vowels and then their shortening in the same position look like
an exercise in futility, though there must have been a system (“method”) behind
the observable chaos. In the world of words, many events are
similar. What was the point of losing an English reflex (continuation) of
harjaz and borrowing army if Romance-speakers, who had the word army,
took over Germanic harjaz? What was so special about the
organization of the Germanic military that it caught the fancy of its Romance
speaking neighbors? Such questions require detailed investigation, and
one begins to understand why books, which read like thrillers, have been
written on the history of one word.
There is not much to add. Heriot “feudal
service consisting of military equipment restored to the lord on the death of a
tenant” (a historical term) goes back to Old English here “army” and geatwa
“trappings.” The origin of harridan “a haggard old woman” is
almost unknown. If it is an alteration of French haridelle “a
worn-out horse,” it may be related to haras “horse breeding
establishment,” about which nothing is known either. (Are both related to
Engl. horse?) Harass, as implied in the title of this blog,
is not related to harry. A French verb, like most words mentioned
above, it may be a pejorative derivative of harer “to set a dog on,”
from hare, a cry used for this purpose. Such is the opinion of the Oxford
English Dictionary, but Skeat had doubts on this score. Harlequin,
harem, harpoon, harquebus? No, those are characters in different
stories.
Anatoly Liberman is the author of Word Origins…And How We Know Them. His column on word origins, The Oxford Etymologist, appears here each Wednesday. Send your etymology question to [email protected]; he’ll do his best to avoid responding with “origin unknown.”
Recent Comments
There are currently no comments.