Living Latin

I have known since college that "Vermont" is "Mons Viridis" in Latin, because I'm so damned old that they still used Latin at my college in their diplomas. I have a diploma not from "Middlebury College" but from "Collegium Medioburiense." I'm surprised the "titulo graduque" (graduate degree) was not awarded to Alanus McCornickus.

One of my many fun activities during the lockdown, when we have had little chance for distractions outside the house, has been googling all manner of trivia. One of those has been digging into how Cicero and Virgil might pronounce the other forty-nine states of the Civitates Foederatae Americae (USA to you).

Fortunately, there is a Latin version of Wikipedia (it's Vicipaedia, in Latin) where you can look this kind of thing up. 

A great many states have names that work as is in Latin.  There's Georgia with its capital at Atlanta. And there's Indiana, where even its capital, Indianapolis, works as is, provided, of course, you allow room for Greek loan words like -polis.  And there's California, for example, with its capital, Sacrament(um), requiring the bare minimum of Latinization. And when it comes to the Greek loan polis, there are also these states/state capital combinations: Terra Mariae (Land of Mary) - Annapolis; Virginia Occidentalis - Carolopolis (Charlestown); North and South Dakota (Dacota Meridiana and Dacota Septentrionalis) and their capitals Pierre and Bismarck, respectively: Petropolis and Bismarcopolis. Iowa and Des Moines (Iova and Monachopolis) take a bit of extra work, but they make sense once you press your French into service. And there's Montana - Helenopolis. And Ohium and Colombopolis. And last, but not least, Texia and Austinopolis.

Minnesota, with its capital at Sanctus Paulus, is an easy one, as is Novum Mexicum and Sancta Fides.  The city of Campifons is likely to throw you until you learn it's the capital of Illinoesia. And the state of Nova Caesarea may also challenge you until you learn its capital is Trentonia.

Pennsylvania and Harrisburgum and Rhodensis Insula and Providentia are no challenge. Neither is Uta and Urbs Lacus Salsi. If you happen to know that Ludwig is the German version of Louis, then you're ready for Ludoviciana and its capital at "Red Stick" (Rubribaculum). 

I won't go through all fifty states, but I do need to give special attention to my neighboring state (speaking now as a Vermonter) of New Hampshire.

That one is a real muddle. The reason is the original Latin for Hampshire is a muddle. "Hampshire" (with apologies to my British friends for explaining to my American and other non-Brit friends who may not know) is a county, and not a town, in Britain, as the suffix "shire" indicates. Before the Normans invaded in 1066 and renamed the Anglo-Saxon "scir"s as comptés (counties in Anglo-Norman), "Hamm" the settlement in the bend of a river carried the name of Hamwic - "wic" being the word for "trading center."  But for reasons I have been unable to fathom, it also carried the name of "Hantune," which evidently evolved into Hantonia, the current name of the county in Latin, if the Great Seal of New Hampshire is any indication. It reads Sigillum Reipublicae neo hantoniensis."

I say "muddle" because the Vicipaedia page which carries a map of the United States calls New Hampshire "Nova Hantonia" on its list of states below the map, along with their capitals (Nova Hantonia's is Concordia), but "Nova Hantescira" on the map itself.

A quick phone call to Bishop Peter Anthony Libasci at (603) 669-3100 might clear this up. He's the Archbishop of the Diocese of Manchester, which serves the entire catholic population of New Hampshire, and as far as I know the Roman Catholic Church is the only organization (besides Collegii Dartmuthensis, of course) that still uses Latin with any frequency in their official dealings. He may know.

This reflection on Roman Britain stems from about a year ago when I was up to my ears in that popular Netflix history of Viking Britain, The Last Kingdom, and googled to find out when the Romans left and the Danes moved in. (Answer: The Romans left about 410, the first recorded Viking raid was in 789, so considerably later). One of the things I always pay attention to in historical dramas is how they handle language. How did the invading Danes and the local Saxons communicate?

And that led to the question of how much Latin still remained, if any, outside of the church and in academia.

So many things to fuss over.  Why does Mons Viridis (Vermont, you remember)'s capital, Montpelier, comes out Mons Pessulanus? The answer, it turns out is that  Mons Pessulanus was the ancient name of the city of Montpellier (with two l's) in France. Somebody's actually paying attention to historical detail.

Latin is not dead. It's just hibernating. There's still so much you can do with it.  You can say, for example:

Recedite, plebes! Gero rem imperialem!

 (Out of the way, peasants! I'm on imperial business!)

or

Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari?

(How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?)