Selangor’s Stannum and Swarf.

A reader sent me Edward Denny’s Atlas Obscura post World’s Largest Pewter Tankard, saying:

There are a few things of linguistic interest here, including a few little puns, but the paragraph that caught my eye was: “The company received a royal warrant in 1979 from the sultan of Selangor, and in 1992, the company officially became known as Royal Selangor. The stupendous stoup is now a standard suitable for a singular sovereign of stannum.”

I’m not familiar with either stoup or stannum (and haven’t yet looked them up!) but find the entirely unnecessary alliteration absurdly amusing.

A stoup is “A mug or other drinking vessel,” and stannum is the Latin word for ‘tin’ (though it very occasionally crops up in English per the OED, e.g. 1812 “Tin or Stannum,” H. Davy, Elements of Chemical Philosophy 379). I myself was taken with another unusual s-word in this paragraph:

The museum also features a 1,578-kg box of swarf–the chips and shavings left over from the factory floor–as well as the famous “lucky teapot.” As the story goes, a man was scavenging warehouses for food during WWII when he bent over to pick up a wayward melon-shaped pewter teapot. Just at that moment, a bullet wizzed overhead, and the fortunate scrounger’s life was saved. The teapot was an original design of Yong’s, and the life-saving story made it famous worldwide.

Swarf is, again per the OED (entry from 1918), “The wet or greasy grit abraded from a grindstone or axle; the filings or shavings of iron or steel. Hence, any fine waste produced by a machining operation, esp. when in the form of strips or ribbons”:

1566 No person..shall die..black, any Cappe wᵗʰ Barke or Swarfe, but only wᵗʰ Copperas and Gall or wᵗʰ Wood [variant reading Woade] and Madder.
Act 8 Elizabeth I c. 11. §3 [actually §2; see mollymooly’s comment below — LH]
[…]

1640 Fileings of iron, called swarf.
Tables Rates & Duties in J. Entick, New History London (1766) vol. II. 174
[…]

1953 There’s swarf—chips of wood, metal, etc.—grinding around in your expensive machinery and shortening its life.
Times 23 October 5/3
[…]

1973 In more ductile materials chips may remain partially bonded to each other to form continuous severely-work-hardened ribbons sometimes called swarf.
J. G. Tweeddale, Materials Technology vol. II. vi. 142

It’s also used for “The material cut out of a gramophone record as the groove is made” (e.g. 1977 “For a long-playing record, this swarf, a strip narrower than a human hair, might be half a mile long,” Times 18 April [Gramophone Supplement] p. iv/7). The etymology is “representing Old English geswearf, gesweorf, geswyrf filings, or < Old Norse svarf file-dust, related to sverfa to file.” Thanks, Andrew!

Comments

  1. Jen in Edinburgh says

    And surely you’ll be your pint stoup
    And surely I’ll be mine…

    ‘Stannum’ feels almost familiar, as if I’ve come across a derivative somewhere. Something to do with Cornish tin mining? But I might just be imagining it.

  2. David Eddyshaw says

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stannary

    A member of a Stannary is a stannator, which is an even better word.

    “Stoup” I knew (is it commoner in Scotland?) and “swarf” I knew from actual Real Life in the days when I was less middle class.

  3. Jen in Edinburgh says

    That’s it! Thank you.

    I only know ‘stoup’ from Auld Lang Syne, I think.

  4. I wonder why Elizabeth’s parliament didn’t want caps dyed black with bark or swarf, and why it was only caps that concerned them.

    The chemical symbol for tin is Sn, from the Latin.

  5. Swarf reminds me of “swarb,” which likewise seems like it ought to be a semi-or-fully archaic name for some substance relevant to the work of some genre of old-time artisan, but which I know primarily (when capitalized) as a common nickname for the late musician https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dave_Swarbrick.

  6. David Marjanović says

    The 1566 quote… there are variant readings of a law? How many original copies of the Hansard are there?

    “representing Old English geswearf, gesweorf, geswyrf filings, or < Old Norse svarf file-dust, related to sverfa to file.”

    Regional German schwurbeln looks like it ought to be related; Schwurbler has spread recently in the meaning “purveyor of conspiracy crackpottery” (especially antivaxery).

  7. A variant of stannum revived in the 197’s when the Crest Corporation promoted stannous fluoride as the wonder ingredient in its toothpaste. Labels sported the signature of “Stan S Fluoride,” who I believe appeared as an animated character in a few commercials.

  8. I only know swarf from “Swarfega” (< "swarf-eager"), which I think I looked up after “handfuls of Swarfega” was mentioned in an Alan Partridge book I was listening to.

  9. alliteration absurdly amusing”

  10. Traditional nomenclature for ionic compounds, such as SnF₂, used those Latinate names, hence “stannous flouride.” What was particularly peculiar was that for divalent cations, the higher oxidation state was sufficed with “-ic” and the lower with “-ous.” Iron (ÌII) compounds, with Fe⁺³, are ferric, and generally insoluble, versus iron (II) Fe⁺² ferrous compounds, which tend to dissolve easily in water.

  11. How many original copies of the Hansard are there?
    The statutes of the realm (1819) v4 pt1 compares the Rolls of Parliament preserved in Chancery and the Original Bills preserved in Parliament. (Hansard was irrelevant and started centuries after 1566.)

    According to p494, Chancery roll had “Wood”, original bill “Woade” — and it’s §2 [not §3] of Act 8 Elizabeth I c. 11.

  12. David Marjanović says

    Interesting. Are the Original Bills more original than the Rolls?

    Traditional nomenclature for ionic compounds

    Still very widespread, possibly standard – in English. There’s no trace of it in German, where compound nouns are used instead, with hyphens in them if needed (Eisen-III-Oxid)…

    …for cations. English also has cases like nitric acid with nitrogen (V) vs. nitrous acid with nitrogen (III), and those are treated in German as compound noun (Salpetersäure) vs. adjective with native suffix (salpetrige Säure).

  13. stannum of course survived into the modern Romance languages in predictable ways – “stagno (IT)”, “étain (FR)”, “estaño (SP)”, “estanho (PT)” and even “staniu” in Romanian (although the latter seems to have been borrowed from Italian in the modern era, replacing an older word “cositor”, which was borrowed from Greek via OCS).

  14. David Eddyshaw says

    Welsh ystaen “tin, pewter” looks as if it ought to be related to stannum, but the vowels don’t work. However, both this and the Old Irish stán could go back to Latin stagnum, which apparently underlies those Romance forms too.

    If Wiktionary is to be believed, stagnum for stannum may be due to Gaulish influence, thereby creating a pleasing circularity with the Celtic forms …

    https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/stagnum#Etymology_2

  15. PlasticPaddy says

    @de 10/09: 19.41
    DWDS relates schwurbeln to schwirbeln which seems to be an s-mobile version of wirbeln. Compare swirl and whirl in English (also twirl?).

  16. PlasticPaddy says

    Sorry, dm not de.

  17. To CuConnacht’s question – There’s a footnote in Smith’s _Wealth of Nations_ saying “But 8 Eliz., c. 11, was enacted ‘at the lamentable suit and complaint’ not of the hatters but of the cap-makers, who alleged that they were being impoverished by the excessive use of hats, which were made of foreign wool.” So a classic example of incumbent economic interests using their political clout to obtain legislation protecting them against competition.

  18. cositor led me to
    https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/κασσίτερος
    which led me to
    https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/مرقشيتا
    which is crazy.

    And has “regard the other English name of tin: golden marcasite.

  19. Marcasite is great, thanks!

  20. Jen in Edinburgh says

    What constitutes excessive use of hats? More than one per head?

  21. David Eddyshaw says

    Doubtless, in the paranoid religious climate of the time, there was a fear of creeping Popery. No good Protestant should wear more than one hat at once.

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Papal_tiara

  22. “In the sixteenth century headwear mattered.” https://sarahabendall.com/2022/03/01/hats-headwear-masculinity-sixteenth-century-europe/

    This wiki-article references other Tudor-era English legislation, such as the Hats and Caps Act of 1488 and the Caps Act of 1571. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monmouth_cap The style of cap described is rather different than what Andy Capp is shown as wearing (as prototypically English) four centuries later. But of more linguistic interest you can click through from that wiki article to the text of those statutes as reprinted in the early-19th-century edition mentioned above, with the variants from different sources shown in parallel columns. A lot of it is just lack of standard spelling, so e.g. “custome of Towne or Citee aforeseid” in the left column corresponds to “Custume of Towne or Cyte afore said” in the right.

  23. Still very widespread, possibly standard – in English. There’s no trace of it in German, where compound nouns are used instead, with hyphens in them if needed (Eisen-III-Oxid)…

    I was a chem major 1964-66 before changing to English. I learned only a few years ago from a chemistry professor that the German practice is now standard in English too, at least in the profession.

  24. And has “regard the other English name of tin: golden marcasite.

    ??? But both the Wikt and the WikiP pages say that marcasite is iron sulfide. There’s no tin mentioned chemically (the only mention is in color; marcasite is/can be “tin-white” on a fresh surface).

    And tin itself is not golden anyway so . . . ? ? ?

    Hm. Who did refer to tin as “golden marcasite”, anyway? Google Books, show me past usage!

    A dictionary of chemistry and the allied branches of other sciences, Volume 2, By Henry Watts (F.C.S.) · 1882, pg 939

    GOLDEN MARCASITE   An old name of zinc   (See Ure’s Dictionary of Arts &c ii 399.)

    *Throws up hands in chemical nomenclatural despair*

  25. “In the sixteenth century headwear mattered.”

    And the eighteenth as well: The War of the Hats.

  26. NED sv marcasite

    For the vague notion attached to the word in pre-scientific chemistry, see quots. 1616 and 1727-52. The ‘marcasites’ of gold and silver seem to have been specimens of copper and iron pyrites with the lustre of gold and silver, and hence wrongly supposed to contain traces of those metals.

    1616 Buttokar Lng. Expos., Marchasite, a stone participating with the nature of some mettall, yet in so small quantity, that the mettall cannot be melted from it, but will vapour away in smoake, the stone turning to ashes.

    1727-52 Chambers Cycl., Marcasite, Marcasita, a sort of metallic mineral, supposed by many to be the seed or first matter of metals. On this principle, there should be as many different marcasites as metals… There are only three kinds in the shops, which are called, marcasite of gold, of silver, and of copper: though some repute the loadstone to be a marcasite of iron; bismuth, marcasite of tin; and zink, or spelter, marcasite of lead.

  27. Wiktionary says marcasite < Medieval Latin marchasita < Arabic مَرْقَشِيتَا (marqašītā), And then —phew!

    From Aramaic מַרְקְשִׁיתָא / ܡܰܪܩܫܺܝܬܴܐ (marqəšīṯā, “marcasite”), from Akkadian 𒉌𒌓𒍝𒄢𒈥𒄩𒅆𒌅 (NA₄.GUG mar-ḫa-ši-tu /marḫašīt/, “glass or artificial gem in the color of the marḫašu stone”), from Akkadian 𒉌𒌓𒈥𒄩𒋗 (NA₄ mar-ḫa-šu /marḫašu, marḫušu, marḫaṣu/, “a kind of precious stone or gem; marcasite”), from Sumerian 𒈥𒄩𒅆𒆠 (mar-ḫa-ši KI /marḫaši, waraḫše/), name of the Mesopotamian region of disputed extents called in Akkadian 𒁀𒊏𒄴𒋢 (pa₂-ra-aḫ-su /paraḫsum, baraḫsum/), the precious stone also being called in Hurrian 𒁈𒊑 𒅖 𒄭 (par₆ri-iš-ḫi /parrišḫu, parrušḫu/).

    Encountered in Persian as مرقشیشا (marqašišâ), مارقشیشا (mârqašišâ, “marcasite, pyrite”), apparently influenced by Persian شیشه (šiše, “glass”), and as a name of an aromatic borrowed from Iranian into Old Armenian մարդարիշար (mardarišar).

    Possibly ultimately identical to قَصْدِير (qaṣdīr, “tin”), Aramaic קְסְטִירָא (qəsṭīrā), קַסִּיטְרָא (qassīṭrā, “tin”), Ancient Greek κασσίτερον (kassíteron), κασσίτερος (kassíteros, “tin”), relating to the Kassites residing at the Zagros Mountains where one mined tin, overlapping with Marḫaši, regard the other English name of tin: golden marcasite.

    (“This section or entry lacks references or sources. Please help verify this information by adding appropriate citations.”)

  28. Where’s ə de vivre when you need him?

  29. @JWB, LH surely you mean 16th and 18th centure of the Muslim Mediterranean.

    I can link two horrifying stories, both in French.

    1. https://books.google.can/books?id=pPHtG9HOtn8C&pg=PA379

    2. The second is Hanna Dyiab’s (18th century). I did not read the book.
    Its English translation is everywhere on the internet (e.g. here), surely you can find the story there.

    What I read is an article about Aleppine dialect in his book, which mentions the story.
    Google “M. Lemaire à Tripoli de Lybie”: https://www.google.com/search?q=%22M.%20Lemaire%20%C3%A0%20Tripoli%20de%20Lybie%22
    and read page 229 of the pdf. Honestly, the story here is shortened and not really horryfying if you read the two line retelling and not dialect comments.
    But I am sure the version of the man who tauhgt the world or maybe even authored Aladdin’s story is much more interesting. I say “horryfying” without reading. I trust the guy.

  30. Are the Original Bills more original than the Rolls?

    Yes; see Statutes of the Realm, vol. 1, pp xxxv-xxxvii. The inrollment in Chancery (§2) was a fair copy of the Original Bill (§4); the latter would have accrued a tangle of insertions and crossings-out as the Bill progressed through the two Houses.

  31. Norw. svarving “(arch.) woodturning”. I know the word better from svarve hatter “some sort of method used in traditional production of hats” (I think it has to do with the shaping of felt), from Alv Prøysen’s Jørgen Hattemaker “Jørgen the Hatter'” — which for inexplicable reasons I’ve never reproduced at the Hattery

  32. Jørgen Hattemaker. First stanza and chorus:

    Ja, fysst vil je få nevne mi stilling og min stæinn
    Je står og svarve hatter i Salomo sitt læinn
    Sjøl bær’ je navnet Jørgen, så skilnaden er stor
    Men både je og Salomo kom nakne til vår jord

    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

  33. Jen in Edinburgh says

    ‘Swedish officer Malcolm Sinclair’. Of course he was.

    There was a James Keith on the Russian side, so at least we were shared out evenly.

  34. Having said A, …

    Jørgen Hattemaker
    Alr Prøysen (1914-1970)

    Ja, fysst så vil je få nevne min stilling og min stæinn;
    Je står og svarve hatter i Salomo sitt læinn
    Sjøl bær’ je navnet Jørgen, så skilnaden er stor
    Men både je og Salomo kom nakne til vår jord

    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    Når liljene på marken i fager blomstring står
    Og æille himlens fugler sin glade trille slår
    Je nynne såmmå strofa i Hattemakergrend
    Og morgendagen, Salomo – hva vet vel vi om den?

    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    Har Salomo sitt måltid med vin og fylte fat
    Je sug på tørre skorper og kæille det for mat
    Men det vi gjer ifrå øss dit vi i lønndom går
    Blir gras til hyrdens hvite lam og Sarons sorte får

    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    Når dronninga av Saba gjør Salomo visitt
    Je ser ‘a Lea Lettvint og hu har tenkt seg hit
    Om leiet blir forskjellig frå silkeseng tel strå
    Vi går mot samme paradis og hører harper slå

    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    Når sola synk og dale bak slottets tårn og tind
    Så kjæm den rare natta med drøm og tankespinn
    Da blir je sjøl kong Salomo, og hæinn blir kæinnskje den
    Som står og svarve hatter uti Hattemakergrend

    Sola skinn’ på meg
    Så skuggen fell på deg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    The inexplicable reasons aren’t that inexplicable. I usually don’t post song lyrics or poems without also making a decent shot at a translation, but for this song, I’ve struggled with both the simple refrain and the biblical allusions of the verses.

  35. @Y, yes, crazy.

    But one intresting claim here is that “it” in “marcasite” is Semitic, different from “it” elsewhere (pyrite):

    from Akkadian 𒉌𒌓𒍝𒄢𒈥𒄩𒅆𒌅 (NA₄.GUG mar-ḫa-ši-tu /⁠marḫašītu⁠/

    BTW:
    from Akkadian 𒉌𒌓𒍝𒄢𒈥𒄩𒅆𒌅 (NA₄.GUG mar-ḫa-ši-tu /marḫašīt/ (your comment)
    I don’t know what happened to u in your comment…

  36. You’re right! The u got cut off between the original, the text editor, and the comment posting.

    (The technical reason: there’s an invisible character, WORD JOINER, U+2060, between the / and the contents in the WAry entry. It was meant, I think, to make sure the line doesn’t split there. It was not getting rendered well, and when I tried deleting it, I accidentally got the u.)

  37. Aha, thanks! I was wondering.

  38. The names in the title of the OP have a certain phonetic resemblance to the names of the three angels that guard against Lilith (Selangor, Stannum, and Swarf ; Senoy, Sansenoy, and Semangelof)

    Perhaps they are understudies, or distant cousins, who really hope they never get noticed and pressed into service.

  39. Trond Engen:

    In today’s trip to Hattemakergrend (which Google gives as “Hatter’s Lane”) I learned that Mrs. Pepperpot is not British. I had assumed she was because of the Monty Python connection. Now I am better informed.

    You just never know where you will end up when you come here.

  40. PlasticPaddy says

    @trond
    Sola skinn’ på deg
    Så skuggen fell på meg
    Men graset er grønt for æille

    Maybe:
    Sunshine on your head,
    Shadow for me instead,
    But the grass is green beneath our feet*
    *I presume æle > æille

  41. Athel Cornish-Bowden says

    As someone born in a Stannary Town I’ve been familiar with the word for many many years. (My mother didn’t live there, but in 1943 you had to be born where you could find a bed.)

    As for ‘Swedish officer Malcolm Sinclair’, there was an engagement in the First World War involving French, Russian and German troops, in which the German general had a Russian name, the French general had a German name, and the Russian general had a French name. Something like that, anyway. Sorry, I can’t say more, as this -comes from a BBC series about the First World War that I watched in about 1966.

  42. PlasticPaddy says

    https://encyclopedia.1914-1918-online.net/article/russian-expeditionary-force-1-1/
    Russian Major general Diterichs fought in the Balkans together with French against Bulgarian troops (I don’t know if there were any Germans or Austrians involved). The Russians in France were under Major General Lochvitskii, which you could stretch as German (compare, e.g., Laugwitz), but I think it is really some kind of West Slavic.

  43. According to Russian WP, Lochvitskii was “Из дворян Санкт-Петербургской губернии”, the writer Teffi was his sister. Interestingly, the WP articles on him and the various members of his family give differing accentuations – some on the first syllable and some on the penultimate.

  44. Wikipedia has that general as Diterikhs, that being someone’s preferred romanization of Ди́терихс, while also acknowledging that Diterichs was the German spelling. He was from a Baltic German family on his father’s side and I assume most of those folks were as of the early 20th century bilingual, although since his mom was an ethnic-Russian and he was born and raised in St. Petersburg rather than his ancestral Estonia maybe not.

  45. Were there many German–Russian–Lat/Lit/Est-ian trilinguals in the old days?

  46. Probably not many; I imagine few of the Baltic German-Russian aristocracy who were so prominent in prerevolutionary Russian upper-crust life bothered to learn the language of the peasantry who supported their estates.

  47. I think the Lutheran clergy in Est./Lat. tended to be drawn from the sons of the German-speaking gentry but came under increasing pressure to be able to speak the peasant languages of the laity as the 19th century wore on. But maybe if they were just county parsons in the Baltics they didn’t bother to learn Russian?

  48. There were more than you think. According to Wikipedia the borders between a “Baltic German” and an “Estonian” or a “Latvian” in the Russian Empire were not carved in stone, much like the situation in Bohemia, Moravia or Slovenia before 1914.

    Somewhere around 10% of the 180,000 recorded Baltic Germans in the 19th century were “social risers” who had abandoned their Latvian or Estonian nationality to “pass” as German. One has to assume most of them were at least bilingual, and certainly some number of them spoke Russian, especially the ones who served in the military. And then apparently a lot of these families returned to being “Latvian” or “Estonian” when that made political and economic sense in the midst of rising nationalism and in particular after independence, which further suggests they maintained their native language in addition to German. There were no doubt also some ethnic German families who moved down the ladder socially and probably acquired the local language.

    I agree with LH that the most prominent families probably never bothered to learn the peasant/handworker languages other than maybe some nursery words, some commands and some market words, but trilingualism in German-Russian-Swedish was probably common for a period.

  49. Thanks, Vanya — I’ve learned something today. (Whether I remember it tomorrow is a separate question…)

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