West Hudson Dutch Place Names   These geographical/ geological postings are to my mind related to travel, but we haven’t talked much about language. Some familiar names we’ve been using have interesting derivations, but first we need to discuss a few concepts.

KILL We’ve referred to earlier [2005/18] to the former Dutch word kille (creek; channel), which is now archaic and appears only in place names, in shortened form, in the spelling kil in Dutch and kill in English. There are a handful of these place names in the Netherlands (Bakkerskil; Sluiskil), and actually far more in the former New Netherlands. In the Delaware Valley Philadelphia has the famous Schuylkill River (Dutch: S-KH-ÖÜl.kil; English SKU.kil); in the Hudson Valley are names such as Catskill, Peekskill, Fishkill, Fresh Kills, Dutch Kills (!!!), and many others, including Arthur Kill and Kill Van Kull.

ACHTER The Dutch word achter (AKH.ter) means “behind, (in the) back, in back of”. Anne Frank’s father originally published her diary under the name Het Achterhuis (et AKH.ter.höüs), which is usually translated as The Annex, but literally means the “Behind-House”, a reference to the fact that the location they hid in was a rear extension to the main building. Since an annex can also be on the side, and since the usefulness of this annex was because it was out back, perhaps it should be translated as the Back Annex, or the Rear Extension.

COL The French word col means “mountain pass”. Although not in use in Dutch today, it apparently did appear earlier in Dutch in the spelling kol, still referring to mountains, but with a somewhat different meaning, “ridge”. Also keep in mind that between the Hudson and Newark Bay is that very long peninsula called Bergen Neck, and along Bergen Neck runs the ridge known as Bergen Hill.

Finally, folk etymology, discussed in the past, is an erroneous change in language due to a common, every-day misunderstanding. For instance, the term “wheel barrow”, because the second element is no longer a familiar term, sometimes appears as “wheel barrel”, where people substitute a familiar word in place of an unknown one, perhaps in the belief they had been mishearing “barrel” all along.

We now have all our ammunition, so let’s move with explaining what happened with Dutch place names on the western side of New York Harbor, areas hidden from the principal crossroads of the Hudson and Upper and Lower New York Bays.

ARTHUR KILL Who could Arthur have been? Was it someone’s first name? Was it a family name? Could it be connected to President Chester Alan Arthur? No, no, and no. Look at Arthur Kill’s location away from the main activity of the Hudson. Arthur Kill is located BEHIND Staten Island. The Dutch had called it Achter Kil, or “Back River”. When the British took over New Netherland, a Dutch-English pidgin developed (2010/27). When the British heard the Dutch name Achter Kil, the second word was recognizable as the English word “kill” although the meaning didn’t make sense. But the first word was not easily pronounced, and as a perfect example of folk etymology, the English heard it as a more familiar word, and thus the name Arthur Kill was born.

ACHTER KOL Maintain the image of these waterways being off in the “back”. In Dutch days, the land area around Newark Bay, and possibly to some extent the bay itself, was referred to as Achter Kol, which would be “Behind (the) Ridge”, or perhaps “Back of (the) Ridge”, referring to Bergen Hill impeding easy land access. This name is no longer in use. [Isn’t it odd to have had two names so similar and right next to each other, Achter Kil and Achter Kol?]

KILL VAN KULL Maybe this waterway was named after a Van Kull family? No again. The Kill Van Kull is the waterway connecting the Hudson to Newark Bay and the Achter Kol region, and it also makes reference to the ridge. Kill Van Kull is literally Ridge River, in other words, the river that gets you around that pesky ridge. As for Kol, the English apparently heard it as “cull”--they called Newark Bay Cull Bay--which also makes no sense in this context, but that’s folk etymology for you. I am assuming that the original Dutch name, parallel to Achter Kol, was Kil van Kol. So Kill Van Kull is the Dutch name, influenced by the English word “cull”, respelled with a K. This is again an example of a Dutch-English pidgin that existed in the early years.

Hoek - Adriaen Block - Rhode Island   We end with a miscellanea of more Dutch place names and a Dutch explorer you may not have heard about.

HOEK It is bothersome when an error is repeated often enough so that it becomes commonplace, and then accepted. Let’s clear up first that the Dutch word haak (sounds like “hark” without the R) means “hook”. With vis meaning “fish”, a vishaak is a fishhook.

The Dutch word hoek (rhymes with “Luke”) means “angle”, and therefore also “corner”, which obviously is angular in shape. For instance, a rechte hoek is a right angle and an achthoek is an octagon, literally an “eight-angle” or “eight-corner”. Hoek also refers to both an outside corner, where two streets come together, or an inside corner, in a room.

In place names, it means “point of land”, which is logical, given the angularity involved. To be sure I knew what I was talking about, I checked Dutch Wikipedia, which confirmed that hoek when used in a plaatsnaam, or place name, describes a landpunt, or point of land. So, are we clear?

It is therefore with exasperation that we note that English speakers, whenever coming across hoek in a place name, avoid referring to it as a point, but, contrary to all logic, call it instead a hook.

An obvious example is in the Netherlands. On the north bank of the mouth of the Rhine, at a point--ahem--where the Rhine enters the English Channel, is the area and town known as Hoek van Holland. It’s particularly well-known since there is a cross-channel ferry service to the UK from here. Hoek van Holland means, to the Dutch, Holland Point, yet it is standardly referred to in English as--get this--Hook of Holland, which makes no sense. It’s even sometimes shortened to “the Hook”, which makes even less sense.

There are many more examples in the New York area. The Dutch named a certain spit of land Zand Hoek (but in the old spelling Sant). It should have become Sand Point, or perhaps Sandy Point, but instead it went directly to Sandy Hook.

Across from me, in Jersey City, immediately to the south of the Exchange Place transit hub, a Dutchman by the name of Paulez (or Powles, or Pauluson), a name anglicized to Paulus, ran a ferry and traded with the Lenape natives. His property was on a small point of land, Paulez Hoek, which gave rise to the present neighborhood in Jersey City. Although it should be Paulus Point, it is instead Paulus Hook.

We’ve discussed in the past the Brooklyn neighborhood of Red Hook, where the Brooklyn Passenger Terminal is and where the Cunard ships now dock opposite Governor’s Island. Red Hook reaches out on a point, and apparently the beaches that were originally there had red sand. The Dutch named the point Rode Hoek (old spelling Roode Hoek; both versions pronounced like the name “Rhoda”), which should have become Red Point, but it’s instead Red Hook. There is also another Red Hook, a village up in the Hudson Valley. In addition, at the Narrows, the part of Brooklyn reaching out in a point was once called Yellow Hook because of its sand, but during a 19C yellow fever epidemic, the word “yellow” took on negative connotations, and the neighborhood was renamed Bay Ridge for the moraine cutting through it.

The point in Manhattan jutting into the East River on the Lower East Side just south of the Williamsburg Bridge had been Corlaers Hoek. The spelling of the Dutch family name was later anglicized when the name was translated, not to Corlear’s Point, but to today’s Corlear’s Hook. [There’s a curious footnote to this last item. Today, the term “hooker”, referring to a sex worker, is generally attributed to a certain General Hooker in the Civil War. But that isn’t definitive, and there are other unrelated occurrences of the word. One not unreasonable one is that, since Corlear’s Hook in the early 19C was a red-light district, sex workers in Corlear’s Hook were referred to as hookers.]

ADRIAEN BLOCK For our last discussion about hoek we need to know more about Adriaen Block. We know Verrazzano and Hudson explored this area, and are reminded by place names, but, except for Block Island, we don’t hear too much about Block. Following Hudson’s voyage in 1609, Block made four voyages to the area west and east of Long Island between 1611 and 1614. His 1614 map used the name of New Netherland for the first time. He was the one who named Noten Eylandt (today’s Governor’s Island), making future settlers aware of its existence (it was the first point they landed at before crossing to New Amsterdam). He was the first European to circumnavigate Manhattan, proving it to be an island. He was also the first to not only enter Long Island Sound, but also to circumnavigate Long Island, proving it to be an island. He sailed up the Connecticut River at least up to what is today the Harford area. His name for it was the Versche Rivier, modern spelling Verse Rivier, or Fresh River, but it’s since reverted to its Algonquian name, derived from “quinetucket”, meaning “long tidal river” (!!!). In 1614 he charted Block Island, and named it for himself. He then visited Narragansett Bay (see below) before finally stopping in Cape Cod before his return home. Block was then familiar with the entire Outer Lands area.

When Block was circumnavigating Long Island, he found and named what is today called Montauk Point. He was apparently impressed that the Montaukett natives were busy fishing, because his name for Montauk Point was Hoeck van de Visschers, modern spelling Hoek van de Vissers. We know vis, is fish, so then visser, is fisher(man), and the name would best be Fisherman’s Point. But we also know that it would have really ended up as Fisherman’s Hook, and what crazy imagery would that have caused?

RHODE ISLAND Our final reference here is also connected with Block, the state of Rhode Island. It is famously the smallest of the 50 US states, and would fit several times into neighboring New England states bordering it, such as Connecticut to the West and Massachusetts to the North and East. RI is, obviously from the map, the land in and surrounding Narragansett Bay. The capital, Providence, is at the north end of the Bay, as is Pawtucket. The bulk of the mainland is on the west, with a small strip of RI to the SE flanking Massachusetts, which also encompasses a piece of the Bay. On the map, Block Island (belonging to RI) lies well to the south, and the Bay includes several large islands, including the large one significantly colored red on the map. The southern end of this island is covered by the city of Newport, famous for the dozen-plus palaces built by wealthy families from the Northeast a century ago, palaces referred to as the Newport Mansions, but originally called by their owners mere “bungalows”.

Because of its name, many people mistakenly assume the state is an island. Not so. But the island Newport is on, the largest one in the Bay, has two names. Most often used is Aquidneck, derived from the original name given it by the Narragansett natives. But the less-often used name is--Rhode Island. THIS is the island after which the entire state is named, but curiously, it’s just because of that that the island is called Aquidneck, to avoid confusion. So, knowing how Aquidneck got its other name tells us how the state got its name.

There are two theories, and I strongly agree with the Block theory that is the consensus, but I’ll discuss the other one below as well. It’s believed that Adriaen Block, upon entering the Bay, was impressed by--different sources suggest different things--the red autumn foliage, or the red ground cover or the red sand (see Red Hook) and called it the equivalent in Dutch of “Red Island”. In contemporary Dutch, that would be Rode Eiland, in the older spelling Roode Eylandt.

Now the other theory is very iffy, but, in my opinion, might have had a slight influence on the current name. It’s understood that, some 90 years earlier, Verrazzano noted an island that reminded him of the Greek island of Rhodes, and this influenced later RI settlers in their naming. But there are holes in this story. First, it is not known which island Verrazzano was referring to, and there’s a great probability it was Block Island out to sea. It also could have been one of the islands in Narragansett Bay, but there’s no indication just which one. Secondly, Block was there in 1614 and RI was settled in 1636, so it’s more likely the Dutch name was current with the settlers rather than Verrazzano’s of 1524. Finally, the Greek name for Rhodes is Ρόδος / Ródos, and most languages use versions of the name Rhodes ending in S, which is apparently derived from some sort of a plural. The English and French versions end in -es, the German and Russian versions end in -os, , and Spanish ends in -as. But Verrazzano spoke Italian, and the Italian name for Rhodes is Rodi (also a plural form). If the name came from Verrazzano’s reference to the Greek island, wouldn’t it have appeared in some plural-appearing form, such as *Rhodes Island?

I have to say that the name Rhode Island is derived from the Dutch name, but, during the colonial period, it wasn’t a memory of Verrazzano a century earlier, but simply folk etymology that took over. People didn’t seem to understand why it was called Rode Island (which is the earliest attested version of the spelling), and mistakenly did connect it with the famous island of Rhodes, which resulted simply in replacing the R spelling with an RH spelling. But the name does seem to mean “Red Island”.

One final irony. A famous breed of chicken was developed in RI, so well-known that this chicken is the State Bird of Rhode Island. It was named strictly for its color, and is known as the Rhode Island Red. Too bad most people don’t see the irony in the name.