Cinque (pronounced singk)
In
certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino
with five spots or pips.
1350–1400:
From the Middle English cink, from
the Old French cinq (five), from the Vulgar
Latin cinque, from the Latin quīnque (five). The archaic spelling cinq was from the modern French cinq,
whereas the standard spelling probably emerged either under the influence of
the Italian cinque or was simply a
misspelling of the French. In typically
English fashion, the pronunciation “sank”
is based on a hypercorrect approximation of the French pronunciation, still
heard sometimes among what use to be called “the better classes”. The alternative forms were cinq (archaic), sinque (obsolete) and sink
& sank (both misspellings). The homophones are cinq, sink, sync &
synch (and sank at the best parties); the noun plural is cinques.
Cinque
outposts, attested since the 1640s was a term which referred to the five
senses. The noun cinquecento (written
sometimes as cinque-cento) is used in (as noun & adjective) criticism &
academic works when describing sixteenth century Italian art and literature. It dates from 1760, from the Italian
cinquecento (literally “500”) and was short for mil cinquecento (1500). The use to describe "a group of five,
five units treated as one," especially at cards or dice, dates from the late
fourteenth century and in English was borrowed directly from the French cinq, a dissimilation from Latin quinque (five) which in Late Latin also picked
up the familiar spelling cinque. The ultimate root was the primitive
Indo-European penkwe (five).
In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Latin quinquefolium, the construct being quinque (five) + folium (leaf), from the primitive Indo-European root bhel- (to thrive, bloom). In Gothic tracery, there was a wide use of circular shapes featuring a lobe tangent to the inner side of a larger arc or arch, meeting other lobes in points called cusps projecting inwards from the arch and architects defined them by the number of foils used, indicated by the prefix: trefoil (3), quatrefoil (4), cinquefoil (5), sexfoil (6), multifoil etc. Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the Perpendicular period and, when placed with the axes set diagonally, quatrefoils were called cross-quarters.
Porsche "phone-dial" wheels, clockwise from top left: 1981 911SC, 1988 924S, 1987 944S & 1985 928S.With a myriad of variations, the cinquefoil motif was a style for wheels used by a number of manufacturers, the best known of which were the ones with which Porsche equipped the 911, 924, 944 & 928 where they were known as the “phone-dial”, a reference which may puzzle those younger than a certain age.
The rough-fruited cinquefoil or sulphur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta).
In botany, the potentila is a genus containing some three-hundred species of annual, biennial and perennial herbaceous flowering plants in the rose (rosaceae) family. Since the 1540s it’s been referred to as the cinquefoil (also “five fingers” or “silverweeds”), all distinguished by their compound leaves of five leaflets.
An
early version of a public-private partnership, with no permanent navy to defend
it from sea-borne aggression, the crown contracted with the confederation to
provide what was essentially a naval reserve to be mobilized when needed.
Earlier, Edward the Confessor (circa 1003–1066; King of England 1042-1066) had
contracted the five most important strategically vital Channel ports of that era
to provide ships and men “for the service of the monarch” and although this was
used most frequently as a “cross-Channel ferry service” and was not exclusively
at the disposal of the government. Under
the Norman kings, the institution assumed the purpose of providing the
communications and logistical connections essential to keeping together the two
halves of the realm but after the loss of Normandy in 1205, their ships and
ports suddenly became England’s first line of defense against the French.
The
earliest charter still extant dates from 1278 but a royal charter of 1155 charged
the ports with the corporate duty to maintain in readiness fifty-seven ships,
each to be available each year for fifteen days in the service of the king, each
port fulfilling a proportion of the whole duty. In return the ports and towns received a
number of tax breaks and privileges including: An exemption from tax and tolls,
limited autonomy, the permission to levy tolls, certain law enforcement and
judicial rights, possession of lost goods that remain unclaimed after a year
and of flotsam (floating wreckage and such) & jetsam (goods thrown
overboard). Even at the time this was
thought to be a good deal and the leeway afforded to the Cinque Ports and the substantial
absence of supervision from London led inevitability to smuggling and
corruption although in this the Cinque Ports were hardly unique.
The
Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was something like a viceroy and the office
still exists today but is now purely ceremonial and, although technically relict,
remains a sinecure and an honorary title, regarded as one of the higher honors
bestowed by the Sovereign and a sign of special approval by the establishment
which includes the entitlement to the second oldest coat of arms of England. The prestige it confers on the holder is
derived from (1) it being the gift of the sovereign, (2) it being England’s most
ancient military honor and (3), the illustrious standing of many of the
previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office. It is a lifetime appointment.
William Lygon, seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.
The
office of lord Warden has not been without the whiff of scandal. William Lygon, (1872–1938), who in 1891
succeeded his father as the seventh Earl Beauchamp, was at twenty-seven
appointed governor of New South Wales, a place to which he would later return,
happily and otherwise. In 1913,
Beauchamp, well-connected in society and the ruling Liberal Party’s leader in
the House of Lords, was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and, fond of pomp,
ceremony and dressing-up, he enjoyed the job.
However, in 1930, he embarked on a round-the-world tour which included a
two-month stint in Sydney, where he stayed, accompanied by a young valet who
lived with him as his lover. This, along
with other antics, did not go unnoticed, and the Australian Star newspaper duly reported:
“The most striking feature of the vice-regal
ménage is the youthfulness of its members … rosy cheeked footmen, clad in
liveries of fawn, heavily ornamented in silver and red brocade, with many
lanyards of the same hanging in festoons from their broad shoulders, [who] stood in the doorway, and bowed as we
passed in … Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”
The
report found its way to London when Beauchamp’s brother-in-law, the second Duke
of Westminster (1879–1953), hired detectives to gather evidence, hoping to
destroy him and damage the Liberal Party, the Tory duke hating both. Evidence proved abundant and not hard to find
and in 1931 Westminster publicly denounced Beauchamp as a homosexual to the
king (George V 1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India
1910-1936), who was appalled and responded that he “…thought men like that always shot themselves.” Westminster insisted a warrant be issued for Beauchamp’s
arrest and that forced him into exile.
Lady
Beauchamp seems to have shown some confusion upon being informed of her
husband’s conduct. Although he had
enjoyed many liaisons in their (admittedly large) residences, his partners including
servants, socialites & local fishermen and his proclivities were an open secret
known to many in society, his wife remained oblivious and expressed some
confusion about what homosexuality was. Presumably she'd never heard the word buggery and baffled, thought
her husband was being accused of being a bugler. Once things were clarified she petitioned for
divorce, the papers describing the respondent as:
“A man of perverted sexual practices,
[who] has committed acts of gross
indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of
sodomy … throughout the married life … the respondent habitually committed acts
of gross indecency with certain of his male servants.”
Beauchamp
decamped first to Germany, a prudent choice given that although homosexual acts
had been illegal since the unification of Germany in 1871, under the Weimar
Republic (1918-1933), enforcement was rare and a gay culture flourished blatantly in the larger German cities, the Berlin scene famous even then. After the Nazis gained power in 1933, things
changed and Beauchamp contemplated satisfying George V’s assumption but was
dissuaded, instead spending his time between Paris, Venice, Sydney and San
Francisco, then four of the more tolerant cities.
After
the death of George V, the warrant for Beauchamp’s arrest was lifted and, in
July 1937, he returned to England. What
did come as a surprise to many was that soon after his arrival, invitations
were issued for a Beauchamp ball, ostensibly a coming-of-age celebration for
Richard Lygon (1916-1970; the youngest son) but universally regarded as an
attempt at a social resurrection. In a
sign of the times, much of London society did attend although there were those
who abstained and made it known. Still,
it seems to have appeared a most respectable and even successful event, Henry "Chips" Channon (1897-1958) noting in his diary it was a bit dull, the “only amusing moment when Lord Beauchamp
escorted… a negress cabaret singer into supper.
People were cynically amused but I was not surprised, knowing of his
secret activities in Harlem. It is never
a long step from homosexuality to black ladies.” Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to
society, dying within a year of the ball.
The vicissitudes of his life were helpful to Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) when writing Brideshead Revisited (1945), the
character of Lord Marchmain based on Beauchamp himself while the ill-fated
Sebastian Flyte was inspired by Beauchamp’s son Hugh who shared and pursued
some of his father’s interests. Despite
it all, an appointment as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is for life and Lord
Beauchamp remained in office until his death.
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