Facsimile

Facsimile (pronounced fak-sim-uh-lee)

(1) An exact copy of something (most typically a book, painting, or manuscript).

(2) In telecommunications a method, protocol collection or device (ie the “fax” or “fax machine”) for transmitting data which exists in printed form (typically text documents, drawings, photographs etc) by means of radio or telephone for exact reproduction on a compatible device in another place; expressed usually as the clipping “fax”.

(4) An image transmitted by such a method (historically always in paper hard-copy but technically can be a digital file (e-Fax and similar systems).

(4) To reproduce in facsimile; make a facsimile of something (also as a modifier as in facsimile publication or facsimile transmission).

1655–1665: From the earlier fac simile! (make something like it!), the construct being the Latin fac (imperative of facere (to make; to render) (from the primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, put in place)) + simile, noun use of the neuter of similis (alike; similar).  In the English-speaking world, the one-word form was almost universal by the early twentieth century; that always used for the adjective which dates from 1877.  In the modern way, other languages tended to use “fax” unaltered from English use as the technology was adopted.  One exception was French where the older form fac-similé (plural fac-similés) was officially preferred even to facsimilé but even there the monosyllabic “fax” usually prevailed.  Facsimile (like fax) is a noun, verb & adjective, facsimiled (or facsimiled) & facsimileing (or facsimiling) are verbs (again, more familiar as faxed & faxing); the noun plural is either facsimiles or facsimilia (and of fax it is faxes).

There are a remarkable number of synonyms for facsimile (in the sense of copy) including copy, carbon copy, likeness, replica, clone, copy, ditto, double, dupe, duplicate, look-alike, mimeo, mirror, print, reduplication, replication & ringer (even “miniature” was often used and understood in context) but such was the influence of the fax machine that for other purposes “facsimile” tends now to be used only in historic reference.  One example of appropriate use was the celebration in 1943 of the 50^th birthday of Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Minister of Foreign Affairs of Nazi Germany 1938-1945), the highlight of which was a presentation to the minister of a diamond-studded casket containing facsimiles of all the treaties he had signed during (his admittedly busy if not productive) tenure.  When one of his aides remarked that there were only “a few treaties we had not broken”, Ribbentrop was briefly uncertain how to react until he saw “…Hitler’s eyes filled with tears of laughter”.  It was said to be a good party.  The casual dismissiveness towards treaties was shared by most of the Nazi regime, Hermann Göring (1893–1946; prominent Nazi 1923-1945 & Reichsmarschall of Germany 1940-1975) cheerfully gloating when under cross-examination during the Nuremburg Trial (1945-1946) that he regarded treaties as “…just so much toilet paper”.  Like Ribbentrop, he was convicted on all four counts and (planning aggressive war, waging aggressive war, war crimes & crimes against humanity) and sentenced to be hanged.

Facsimile copy of the secret protocol to the Ribbentrop-Molotov (Nazi-Soviet) Pact, signed in Moscow 23 August 1939.

The protocol defined (1) the parameters of the two countries respective spheres of interest in parts of Europe, (2) the actual borders of the Baltic States (Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania) and (3) the division of Poland.  In the case of Poland, the line of demarcation was essentially the same as the Curzon Line, drawn in 1919 by the UK's foreign secretary Lord Curzon (1859–1925), something which in discussions towards the end of World War II (1939-1645) would cause some embarrassment to British negotiators.

Fax machines are unfashionable though not quite extinct.  For most users, most of the time, the alternatives are better but fax across phone lines did have some real advantages, the most obvious being security; it was just about impossible to intercept a tax message unless one was able physically to tap into the physical copper wires attaching the send & receive devices to the telephone network.  There was also something pleasingly democratic about fax, the low transmission speed (the default for years was 14.4 kbit/s although support for the V34 standard (28.8 & 33.6) became common and digital modems even ran over ISDN at 64 kbit/s) meant just about everyone on the telephone network ran at about the same rate.  Sometimes too, legislation for a while cemented the fax’s place in communications, banks and the real estate industry long fond of the fax because a signature transmitted thus was accepted as evidence in matters of contract law while the electronic version was not (and with good reason).  Cultural factors too made a difference.  Long after their receptionists had switched to using computers and thus eMail and other forms of communications, medical practitioners seemed to be creatures of habit and thought if something wasn’t a fax then it wasn’t real.

Lindsay Lohan, faxed.

Fax as short form of facsimile was wholly unrelated to the original fax which was from the Middle English fax, from the Old English feax (hair, head of hair), from the Proto-West Germanic fahs, from the Proto-Germanic fahsą (hair, mane), from the primitive Indo-European poḱsom (hair (literally “that which is combed, shorn, or plucked”)), from the primitive Indo-European peḱ- (to comb, shear, pluck).  It was cognate with the Dutch vas (headhair), the German Fachs (head-hai”), the Norwegian faks (mane), the Icelandic fax (mane) and the Sanskrit पक्ष्मन् (pákṣman) (eyelash, hair, filament).  The Latin fax (torch, firebrand; fireball, comet; cause of ruin, incitement), from the primitive Indo-European ǵhwehk- (to shine) and cognate with facētus (elegant, fine; courteous, polite; witty, jocose, facetious) and the Lithuanian žvakė (candle) and there’s also a speculative link to the Etruscan word for face (which may also have meant torch).  In English (and apparently Scottish) dialectal use it used to mean “hair of the head” until the late fifteenth century.  The first recorded use as a clipping of facsimile (or in some countries “telefax”) to describe the consumer level telecommunications technology, its output and use is thought to date from 1979 but use as an oral form may slightly have predated this.  However, as a noun, “fax” had been in use by telegraphy engineers since 1948 and the verb in this context dates from at least 1970 although, in oral use it could have a longer history.

Brother FAX1820C fax machine.

Adding to the obsolescence was the switch in many countries away from the sometimes century-old analogue network of copper wires to a digital system, something which was the death knell of many fax machines.  In corporations, where internal PBXs (private branch exchange (also PABX (private automated branch exchange)), had usually provided a translation layer which provided both analogue and digital lines, the fax machines (usually as one of the components of a MFD (multi-function device which handled photocopying, faxing, scanning, OCR (optical character recognition) and sometimes even storage) carried serenely on although the evidence suggested use had diminished sometimes to zero.  Even in homes and small businesses without a PBX, adaptors are available which link a fax machine to a SIP/VoIP (Session Initiation Protocol/Voice over Internet Protocol) account, emulating the analogue original.  Unlike the old and robust telephone system, reliability could be patchy because the performance of the internet tends to bounce around more and (strangely) error correction is a less exact science.  There are more sophisticated solutions but they don’t use existing hardware so costs are higher and the take-up rate has been low, reflecting that most e-mail or other messaging solutions cover the needs of most users at zero or marginal cost.

The Imperial fax machine that never was

In the two decades between 1955-1975 when Chrysler in the US ran Imperial as a separate division rather than a badge to be used for up-market versions built on the corporate full-sized platform (although Imperials in their last generations did revert to such engineering), despite the odd encouraging season, the brand never threatened the dominance of Cadillac in the sector and rarely troubled Ford's Lincoln, the perennial runner-up.  The 1967 & 1968 Imperial range did however offer something truly unique.  The “Mobile Director Package” was available exclusively on the Imperial Crown Coupe and reflected (within the limits of what the available technology and fiscal realism would then permit) what Chrysler thought a company director would most value in an automobile being used as a kind of “office on the move” and it included: an extendable walnut-topped table which could be unfolded over the rear seats, a gooseneck (Tensor brand) high-intensity lamp which could be plugged into the cigarette lighter on either side of the car (in a sign of the times, Imperials had four cigarette lighters installed) and most intriguingly, the front passenger seat could rotate 180° to permit someone comfortably to use the tables and interact with those in the rear.  Unfortunately, the fax machine previewed on the well-publicized prototype didn't make the cut for the production version.  All the publicity material associated with the Mobile Director Package did suggest the rearward-facing seat would likely be occupied by a director’s secretary and as one might imagine, the configuration did preclude her (and those depicted were usually women) using a lap & sash seat-belt but she would always have been in arm’s reach of at least one cigarette lighter so there was that.  The package was available only for those two seasons and in its first years cost US$597.40 (some US$5500 adjusted for 2023 values).  The cost of the option was in 1968 reduced to US$317.60 (some US$2800 adjusted for 2023 values) but that did little to stimulate demand, only 81 buyers of Crown Coupes ticking the box so even if the new safety regulations hadn’t outlawed the idea, it’s doubtful the Mobile Director Package would have appeared on the option list in 1969 when the new (and ultimately doomed) “fuselage” Imperials debuted.

Imperial's advertising always emphasised the "business" aspect of the package but the corporation also circulated a photograph of the table supporting a (presumably magnetic) chessboard and another with a bunch of grapes tumbling seductively.  The latter may have been to suggest the utility of the package when stopping for a picnic with one's secretary.  Once advertising agencies got ideas, they were hard to restrain.    

The advertising copy at the time claimed the package was “designed for the busy executive who must continue his work while he travels”, serving also as “an informal conference lounge”.  The Imperial was a big car (although the previous generations were larger still) but “lounge” was a bit of a stretch but “truth in advertising” laws were then not quite as onerous as they would become.  More accurate were the engineering details, the table able to “pivot to any of four different positions, supported by a sturdy chrome-plated pillar and in the forward position, it can convert into a padded armrest between the two front seats while extended, it opens out to twice its original size with a lever on the table swivel support to permit adjustments to the height”.  It was noted “a special tool is used for removing the table and storing it in the trunk” the unstated implication presumably that in deference to the secretary’s finger-nails, that would be a task for one’s chauffeur.  The US$597.40 the option listed at in 1967 needs to be compared with the others available and only the most elaborate of the air conditioning systems was more expensive.

Imperial option list, 1967.

The package as it appeared in showrooms was actually modest compared with the “Mobile Executive” car the corporation sent around the show circuit in 1966.  That Imperial had been fitted with a telephone, Dictaphone, writing table, typewriter, television, a fax machine, reading lamp and stereophonic sound system.  The 1966 show car was also Crown Coupe but it was much more ambitious, anticipating advances in mobile communications which would unfold over the next quarter century.  At the time, car phones were available (the first service in the US offered during the late 1940s) although they were expensive and the nature of the bandwidth used and the lack of data compression meant that the range was limited as was the capacity; only several dozen calls able simultaneously to be sustained.  In 1966, there was even the novelty of a Datafax, a "facsimile machine" (later to become the ubiquitous "fax") able to send or receive a US Letter-sized (slightly smaller than A4) page of text in six minutes.  That sounds unimpressive in 2023 (or compared even with the 14.4 kbit/s for Group 3 FaxStream services of the 1990s) but the appropriate comparison is with the contemporary alternatives (driving, walking or using the US Mail) and six minutes would have been a considerable advance.  As it was, the tempting equipment awaited improvements in infrastructure such as the analogue networks of the 1980s and later cellular roll-outs and these technologies contributed to the extent of use which delivered the economies of scale which eventually would make possible smart phones.

The 1966 car which toured the show circuit demonstrated the concept which, in simplified form, would the next year appear on the option list but things like telephones and fax machines anticipated the future by many years (although fax machines in cars (Audi one of a handful to offer them) never became a thing).  The Dictaphone did however make the list as one of Chrysler's regular production options (RPO) in the early 1970s and the take-up rate was surprisingly high although the fad quickly passed, dealers reporting the customers saying they worked well but they "never used them".

Simile, Metaphor & Analogy

Simile (pronounced sim-uh-lee)

(1) A figure of speech expressing the resemblance of one thing to another of a different category usually introduced by as or like.

(2) An instance of such a figure of speech or a use of words exemplifying it.

1393: From the Middle English simile, from the Latin simile (a like thing; a comparison, likeness, parallel), neuter of similis (like, resembling, of the same kind).  The antonym is dissimile and the plural similes or similia although the latter, the original Latin form, is now so rare its use would probably only confuse.  Apart from its use as a literary device, the word was one most familiar as the source of the “fax” machine, originally the telefacsimile and there was a “radio facsimile” service as early as the 1920s whereby images could be transmitted over long-distance using radio waves, the early adopters newspapers and the military.

The simile is figure of speech in which one thing is explicitly compared to another, usually using “like” or “as”; both things must be mentioned and the comparison directly stated.  For literary effect, the two things compared should be thought so different as to not usually appear in the same sentence and the comparison must directly be stated.  Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)) thought a simile “…to be perfect, must both illustrate and ennoble the subject." but many long ago became clichéd and far removed from nobility.

It went through me like an armor-piercing shell.
Slept like a log.
Storm in a tea cup.
Blind as a bat.
Dead as a dodo.
Deaf as a post.

Metaphor (pronounced met-uh-fawr)

(1) A figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance.

(2) Something used, or regarded as being used, to represent something else; emblem; symbol.

1525-1535:  From the Middle French métaphore & the (thirteenth century) Old French metafore from the Latin metaphora, from the Ancient Greek μεταφορά (metaphorá) (a transfer, especially of the sense of one word to a different word; literally "a carrying over”), from μεταφέρω (metaphérō) (I transfer; I apply; I carry over; change, alter; to use a word in a strange sense), the construct being μετά (metá) (with; across; after; over) + φέρω (phérō, pherein) (to carry, bear) from the primitive Indo-European root bher- (to carry; to bear children).  The plural was methaphoris.  In Antiquity, for a writer to be described in Greek as metaphorikos meant they were "apt at metaphors”, a skill highly regarded: “It is a great thing, indeed, to make a proper use of the poetical forms, as also of compounds and strange words. But the greatest thing by far is to be a master of metaphor. It is the one thing that cannot be learnt from others; and it is also a sign of genius, since a good metaphor implies an intuitive perception of the similarity in dissimilars" (Aristotle (384-322 BC), Poetics (circa 335 BC)).

The words metaphor, simile and analogy are often used interchangeably and, at the margins, there is a bit of overlap, a simile being a type of metaphor but the distinctions exist.  A metaphor is a figure of figure of speech by which a characteristic of one object is assigned to another, different but resembling it or analogous to it; comparison by transference of a descriptive word or phrase.  It’s important to note a metaphor is technically not an element or argument, merely a device to make a point more effective or better understood.  It’s the use of a word or phrase to refer to something other than its literal meaning, invoking an implicit similarity between the thing described and what is denoted by the word or phrase.  It has certain technical uses too such as the recycling or trashcan icons in the graphical user interfaces (GUI) on computer desktops (a metaphor in itself).  The most commonly used derivatives are metaphorically & metaphorical but in literary criticism and the weird world of deconstructionism, there’s the dead metaphor, the extended metaphor, the metaphorical extension, the mysterious conceptual metaphor and the odd references to metaphoricians and their metaphorization.  Within the discipline, the sub-field of categorization is metaphorology, the body of work of those who metaphorize.  

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,--
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Richard II (circa 1594), Act 2 scene 1.

Analogy (pronounced uh-nal-uh-jee)

(1) A similarity between like features of two things, on which a comparison may be based:

(2) A similarity or comparability.

(3) In biology, an analogous relationship; a relationship of resemblance or equivalence between two situations, people, or objects, especially when used as a basis for explanation or extrapolation.

(4) In linguistics, the process by which words or phrases are created or re-formed according to existing patterns in the language.

(5) In logic a form of reasoning in which one thing is inferred to be similar to another thing in a certain respect, on the basis of the known similarity between the things in other respects.

(6) In geometry, the proportion or the equality of ratios.

(7) In grammar, the correspondence of a word or phrase with the genius of a language, as learned from the manner in which its words and phrases are ordinarily formed; similarity of derivative or inflectional processes.

1530-1540: From the Old French analogie, from the Latin analogia, from the Ancient Greek ἀναλογία (analogía), (ratio or proportion) the construct being ἀνά (aná) (upon; according to) + λόγος (logos) (ratio; word; speech, reckoning), from the primitive Indo-European root leg- (to collect, to gather (with derivatives meaning “to speak; to pick out words”).  It was originally a term from mathematics given a wider sense by Plato who extended it to logic (which became essentially “an argument from the similarity of things in some ways inferring their similarity in others”.  The meaning “partial agreement, likeness or proportion between things” fates from the 1540s and by the 1580s was common in mathematics; by the early seventeenth century it was in general English use.  The plural is analogies and the derived forms include the adjective analogical and the verbs analogize & analogized.  In critical discourse there’s the “false analogy” and the rare disanalogy.

An analogy is a comparison in which an idea or a thing is compared to another thing that is quite different from it, aiming to explain the idea or thing by comparing it to something that is familiar.  Further to confuse, metaphors and similes are tools used to draw an analogy so an analogy can be more extensive and elaborate than either a simile or a metaphor.

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), The Day Is Done (1844).

“They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling him to make sure he was there. It was like men handling a fish which is still alive and may jump back into the water.”

George Orwell (1903-1950), A Hanging (1931).

The Mean Girls mall scene, at the water hole in the jungle clearing where the “animals gather when on heat”.

Similes, metaphors & analogies are used frequently as devices in fiction including in Paramount Production’s Mean Girls (2004) and the similes were quite brutish including “You smell like a baby prostitute”; “She's like a Martian”; & “Your face smells like peppermint”.  The metaphors were obvious (this was a teen comedy) but worked well.  The “Plastics” implied the notion of things artificial, superficial, and shiny on the outside but hollow inside while “Social Suicide” would to the audience have been more familiar still.  The idea of the “Queen Bee” (a metaphorical position of one individual as the centre of the hive (school) around which all dynamics and activities revolve) was one of several zoological references.  The idea of it being “…like a jungle in here” was a variation of the familiar metaphorical device of comparing modern urban environments (the “concrete jungle” the best known) with a jungle and in Mean Girls stylized depictions of wild animals do appear, the school’s mascot a lion, a link to the protagonist having come from the African savanna.  There was also the use of a malapropism in the analogy “It's like I have ESPN or something”, the novelty being it used an incorrect abbreviation rather than a word.  The Mean Girls script is not the place to search for literary subtleties.

Of Pluto

The New Zealand physicist Lord Rutherford (1871-1937), who first split the atom (1932), explained its structure by drawing an analogy with our solar system.  Rutherford always regarded physics as the “only true, pure science” while other disciplines were just expressions of the properties or applications of the theories of physics.  In 1908, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry “…for his investigations into the disintegration of the elements, and the chemistry of radioactive substances.”  It was said he was amused by the joke.

This image includes Pluto as a planet.  Historically, the Galileian satellites of Jupiter were initially called satellite planets but were later reclassified along with the Moon.  The first observed asteroids were also considered planets, but were reclassified when became apparent how many there were, crossing each other's orbits, in a zone where only a single planet had been expected.   Pluto was found where an outer planet had been expected but doubts were soon raised about its status because (1) it was found to cross Neptune's orbit and (2) was much smaller than had been the expectation.  The debate about the status of Pluto went on for decades after its discovery in 1930 and the pro-planet faction may have become complacent, thinking that because Pluto had always been a planet, it would forever be thus but, after seventy-six years in the textbooks as a planet, the International Astronomical Union (IAU) in 2006 voted to re-classify Pluto as a dwarf planet on the basis that the icy orb failed to meet a set of criteria which the IAU claimed had for decades been accepted science.

To be a planet, the IAU noted, the body must (1) orbit a star, (2) be sufficiently massive to it pull itself into a sphere under its own gravity and (3), “clear its neighbourhood” of debris and other celestial bodies, proving it has gravitational dominance (cosmic hegemony in its sphere of influence by political analogy) in its little bit of the solar system.  Pluto fails the third test.  Because it orbits in the Kuiper Belt (a massive ring of asteroids and planetoids that stretches beyond the orbit of Neptune), Pluto is surrounded by thousands of other celestial bodies and chunks of debris, each exerting its own gravity.  Pluto is thus not the gravitationally dominant object in its neighborhood and therefore, not a planet and but a dwarf (a sort of better class of asteroid).  The IAU’s action had been prompted by the discovery in the Kuiper Belt of a body larger than Pluto yet still not meeting the criteria for planethood.  Feeling the need to draw a line in the sky, the IAU dumped Pluto.

However #plutoisaplanet is a thing and Pluto’s supporters have a website, arguing that while it’s universally accepted a planet should be spherical and orbit the Sun, the “clearing the neighbourhood” rule is arbitrary, having appeared only in a single paper published in 1801.  The history is certainly muddied, Galileo having described the moons of Jupiter as planets and there are plenty of other more recent precedents to suggest the definitional consensus has bounced around a bit and there are even extremists really to accept the implications of loosening the rules such as the moons of Earth, Jupiter and Saturn becoming planets.  Most however just want Pluto restored.

The most compelling argument however is that the IAU are a bunch of humorless cosmological clerks, something like the Vogons (“…not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous.”) in Douglas Adams' (1952–2001) Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979-1992) and that Pluto should be restored to planethood because of the romance of the tale.  Although lacking the lovely rings of Saturn (a feature shared on a smaller scale by Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune), Pluto is the most charming of all because it’s so far away; desolate, lonely and cold, it's the solar system’s emo.  If for no other reason, it should be a planet in tribute to the scientists who, for decades during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, calculated possible positions and hunted for the elusive orb.  In an example of Donald Rumsfeld's (1932–2021; US secretary of defense 1975-1977 & 2001-2006) “unknown knowns”, the proof was actually obtained as early as 1915 but it wasn’t until 1930 that was realized.  In an indication of just how far away Pluto lies, since the 1840s when equations based on Newtonian mechanics were first used to predict the position of the then “undiscovered” planet, it has yet to complete even one orbit of the Sun, one Plutonian year being 247.68 years long.

Turquoise

Turquoise (pronounced tur-koiz or tur-kwoiz)

(1) A fine-grained secondary opaque mineral, a basic hydrous copper aluminum phosphate often containing a small amount of iron, sky-blue to greenish-blue in color (also as the rare form turquois).  It occurs, usually in reniform (kidney-shaped) masses with surfaces shaped like bunches of grapes, especially in aluminum-rich igneous rocks such as trachyte.  In its polished blue form (it occurs also in a yellowish-green hue) it is prized as a gem.  Formula: CuAl₆(PO₄)₄(OH)₈·4H₂O.

(2) A color in the blue spectrum, described usually as bluish green or greenish blue and known also (for commercial purposes) as turquoise blue.

(3) A gemstone (categorized as a semi-precious) made of the mineral, the hues tending to blue traditionally more valuable than the greens.

(4) One of the birthstones for the month of December and associated with the zodiac signs Sagittarius and Capricorn.

1300s or 1600s:  The origin is contested.  Some etymologists trace it from the seventeenth century when it was picked up from the Middle French turquoise, from the Old French (pierre) turquoise (Turkish (stone)), the construct being turc (Turk) +‎ -oise (the feminine of -ois and the suffix used to form adjectives related to a particular country, region or city, their associated inhabitant names, and the local language or dialect), simply because the mineral ( mined near Nishapur in the Khorasan region of Persia) first reached Europe in the hands of the Turkish traders (from the modern-day Republic of Türkiye) of the Ottoman Empire (thus essentially the same manner in which the bird known as the Turkey gained its name) .  Others claim it dated from the fourteenth century as an adaptation of the Middle English turkeis & turtogis (Turkish) which in the 1560s was replaced by the French turqueise.  Those supporting the later etymology claim the gemstone was first brought to Europe from Turkestan or another Turkic territory.  Pliny the Elder (24-79) called the mineral callais (from the Ancient Greek κάλαϊς) and to the Aztecs it was chalchihuitl.  It was cognate with the Spanish turquesa, the Medieval Latin (lapis) turchesius, the Middle Dutch turcoys, the German türkis and the Swedish turkos.  Adjectival use began in the 1570s and it came to be used a colour name in the 1850s.  The use of the spelling turkies is archaic and turquois is rare.  Turquoise is a noun & adjective ane turquoisish, turquoisey, turquoisy¸ turquoised & turquoiselike are adjectives; the noun plural is turquoises.

Turquoise and diamond cluster dangle earrings (circa 1890) in 14 karat gold with cabochon cut sky blue Persian turquoise surrounded by 24 cut diamonds (total 3 carats).

Turquoise is often used in jewelry although some pieces sold as “turquoise” can be artificial and actually only turquoise-colored (with the dual meaning of the word it’s essential to read the small print).  Turquoise used in jewelry is often cut in the form of a cabochon (an oval shape polished but not faceted) and these, in a variety of sizes, are popular for pendants, broaches and earrings.  Turquoise was mentioned in the writing of the Venetian merchant Marco Polo (circa 1254–1324) who saw examples while in China and in the US, turquoise jewelry is especially associated with Native American artisans, particularly from tribes of the south-west including the Navajo & Hopi.

Lindsay Lohan rendered with turquoise hair (left), in turquoise blue waters (centre) and wearing turquoise blue (right).

As a descriptor of color, turquoise is commonly used but it’s inexact, even by the standards of commercial color charts and what some call turquoise others might describe as teal or cyan and the mineral itself exists in quite a range.  The various shades of blue anyway exist in quite a spectrum including: Alice blue, aqua, aquamarine, azure, baby blue, beryl, bice, bice blue, blue green, blue violet, blueberry, cadet blue, Cambridge blue, cerulean, cobalt blue, Copenhagen blue, cornflower, cornflower blue, cyan, dark blue, Dodger blue, duck-egg blue, eggshell blue, electric-blue, gentian blue, ice blue, lapis lazuli, light blue, lovat, mazarine, midnight blue, navy, Nile blue, Oxford blue, peacock blue, petrol blue, powder blue, Prussian blue, robin's-egg blue, royal blue, sapphire, saxe blue, slate blue, sky blue, teal, turquoise, ultramarine, Wedgwood blue & zaffre.

Lindsay Lohan in turquoise wetsuit during filming for “jet ski scene” in Freakier Friday (2025), Malibu, California, August 2024.

The vivid color range of turquoise must have attracted the eyes of humans as soon as they discovered the stone; it is one of the gems with the longest history of decorative use and while it’s not certain how ancient is the tradition, the archaeological record has revealed the upper classes of ancient Egypt wore turquoise jewelry more than 4000 years ago and it’s clear Chinese artisans were carving objects from the stone by at least 1000 BC.  The national gem of Tibet, it has long been valued as a stone which will bring the wearer wealth, health and protection from evil.  It assumed also some military significance because certain tribes of the Apache in what is now the south-western United States believed turquoise attached to a bow or firearm increased a hunter’s (or warrior’s) accuracy of fire.  More pragmatically, the stone also was used as a medium of exchange for among many Native American tribes although being relatively plentiful, as a form of currency its utility was limited and it was valued more for its attractiveness.

Being relatively soft turquoise can be easy to carve but that very attribute can also induce fragility so the selection of a stone for this purpose is best allocated to an expert.  Like most materials, it's a patchwork of strengths and weaknesses: With a Mohs hardness typically between 5-6 it's softer than quartz (rated at 7) but harder than most organic materials like bone or ivory.  That means most standard lapidary tools can be used for carving but does render it susceptible to scratching.  Additionally, many turquoise deposits are porous and often contain inclusions or matrix (ie the host rock) which makes it prone to chipping, crumbling, or breaking along weak spots if too much pressure is applied.

1962 Ferrari 250 GT SWB (short wheelbase) California Spider.

In March 2023, at the annual auctions on Amelia Island, Florida (the old four-day Amelia Island Concours d’Elegance) a 1962 Ferrari 250 GT SWB California Spider sold for US$18,045,000, passing under Gooding & Co’s hammer.  The SWB Spiders have for years be prized but this one attracted a premium because of aspects which attested to its particular rarity, being one of only 37 (some say 47) of the 106 made with the (soon to be unlawful) Perspex-covered headlights and the only one the factory finished in azzurro metallizzato, an eye catching turquoise.  In the way the Italian language manages like no other, azzurro metallizzato sounds much better the the literal translation “metallic sky blue”.  The car was prepared especially for the 1962 New York International Auto Show and remarkably, after being damaged in an accident in 1971, was sold the following year for US$2400 (around US$18,000 adjusted for inflation), so in fifty-odd years it has appreciated around a thousand-fold.  There was of course a repair and restoration bill to be paid in 1972 and the many costs of ownership since but however it’s analyzed, the thing has proved a good investment (although there will be accountants anxious to prove the same US$2400 invested in the right stock index or whatever would have been more lucrative still).  While in the public imagination Ferraris are most associated with red (and the classic rosso corsa (racing red) is just one of many reds the factory has offered), shades of blue have always been popular and over the years there have been dozens.  

Ms Justine Haupt with custom rotary-dial cell phone in turquoise.

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987), an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory took a step backwards (or perhaps sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it used an AT&T prepaid sim card and had a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  

Designer colors: Available in black, white, turquoise, beige and the wonderful Atomic Hotline Red.

“Atomic Hotline Red” is an allusion to the Moscow-Washington DC “hotline” installed in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 1962). In truth, despite frequently appearing in popular culture, there never was a “red phone” and the US connection terminated not on the POTUS’s desk in the Oval Office but in the Pentagon (now HQ of the Department of War) in Arlington County, Virginia.  The first implementation in 1963 used a version of Telex while it was an analogue facsimile service (ie fax machines) between 1986-2008.  Since 2008 the data has travelled over a secure digital link, decrypted into text at each end.

Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit (US$170) with which others could build their own, all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unfortunately, Ms Haupt encountered many difficulties (bringing to market a device which connects to public telephony networks involves processes of greater complexity than selling mittens and such) but the project remains afoot.

Cinque

Cinque (pronounced singk)

(1) In certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino with five spots or pips.

(2) As cinquefoil (1) a potentilla (flower), (2) in heraldry, a stylized flower or leaf with five lobes and (3) in topology, a particular knot of five crossings.

(3) As cinquecentist, (1) an Italian of the sixteenth century, especially a poet or an artist, (2) a student or imitator of the art or literature of that period and (3) the style of art or architecture of that period.

(4) In fine art, as cinquecento, the works of the sixteenth-century (ie the 1500s).

(5) In bladesmithing, as cinquedea, a long dagger (ie short sword) with an unusually heavy blade, developed in Renaissance-era northern Italy during the fifteenth century.  The name is from the Italian cinquedea (literally “five fingers”), a reference to the width of the tapered-blade at the hilt, the expanse of steel meaning they often were richly ornamented although, typically being only some 18 inches (460 mm) in length, they were still light enough in combat to be an effective weapon.

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) while the homophones are cinq, sink, sync & synch (and sank at the best parties).  Cinque is a noun; 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).

Cinquefoil housing stained glass (leadlight) window.

In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Old French cinqfoil, the construct being cinq (five) + foil (leaf).  The basis for the French form was the 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), multifoil etc.  Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the "Perpendicular Period" (the final phase of English Gothic architecture, dated usually between circa 1350–1550; it followed the "Decorated Style" and was characterized by strong vertical lines, large windows with intricate tracery, and elaborate fan vaulting) 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.  Because these have five rather than ten holes, they really should have picked up the nickname "cinquefoil" rather than "phone-dial" but the former was presumably too abstract or obscure so the more accessible latter prevailed.  All Porsche’s phone dial wheels looked similar and for non-expert eyes it really was necessary to have the variants side-by-side to notice the subtle differences.  The factory for example fitted 15” wheels to the early 928s if equipped with an automatic transmission and 16” units if a manual but the larger wheels were available (option code I401) for the former while the smaller could be ordered even on a manual, the attraction being the smoother ride provided by the taller tyre’s sidewall.  Fortunately for restorers and collectors, the part-number is stamped on the inside of each wheel (eg the 7” x 16” fitted typically to a 1979 928 with a five-speed manual transmission is part # 928 361 916 00) and the compatibility list widely is available.  Being this is a Porsche thing, there are specialists who have memorized all the permutations and thus have no need to resort to looking up the papers; such folk are great fun at dinner parties.

Fiat 500 (2023), watercolor on paper by Monika Jones.  While the artist hasn't provided notes, it's tempting to imagine the inspiration was something like “Lindsay Lohan in white dress during summer in Rome, leaning on Fiat 500, painted in the tradition of Impressionism.”

A classic of the La Dolce Vita era, the rear-engined Fiat 500 was in continuous production between 1957-1975 and was the successor to the pre-war Fiat 500 Topolino, an even more diminutive machine which proved its versatility in roles ranging from race tracks to inner-city streets to operating as support vehicles used by the Italian Army in the invasion of Abyssinia (1935).  Almost 3.9 million of the post-war 500s (dubbed the Nuova Cinquecento (New 500)) were produced and as well as the two-door saloon (almost all fitted with a folding sunroof) there were three-door station wagons (the Giardiniera) & panel vans.  Although not all wore the 500 badge, in the home market, universally Italians called them the Cinquecentro.  There was also the unusual 500 Jolly, a cut down version built by Carrozzeria Ghia which featured wicker seats and a removable fabric roof in the style of the surrey tops once used on horse-drawn carriages.  The Jolly was intended as “beach car”, some carried on the yachts of the rich and although Ghia built only 650 originals, many 500s have since been converted to “Jolly Spec”, one of coach-building’s less-demanding tasks.  Being an Italian car, there were of course high-performance versions, the wildest of which was the Steyr-Puch 650 TR2 (1965-1969) which ran so hot it was necessary to prop open the engine cover while it was in use.  The Nuova 500’s successors never achieved the same success but such was the appeal of the original that in 2007 a retro-themed 500 was released although, al la Volkswagen’s “new Beetles” (1997-2019), the configuration was switched to a water-cooled front-engine with FWD (front-wheel-drive).

1985 Ferrari Testarossa “monospecchio-monodado”.

The early Testarossas were fitted with centre-lock magnesium-alloy wheels, chosen for their lightness.  Responding to feedback from the dealer network, as a running-change during 1988, these were substituted for units with a conventional five-bolt design.  The centre-lock wheels were called monodado (one nut) while the five lug-types were the cinquedado (five nut) and because of the time-line, while all the monospecchio cars are also monodado, only some of the monodaddi are monospecchi.  Monospecchi (literally "one mirror") is an unofficial designation for the early cars fitted with a single external mirror, mounted unusually high on the A-pillar, the location the product of Ferrari's interpretation of the EU's (European Union) rearward visibility regulations.  The Eurocrats later clarified things and Testarossas subsequently were fitted with two mirrors in the usual position at the base of the A-pillar. 

Plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XE (1982-1984, left), a circa 1949 British GPO standard telephone in Bakelite (centre) (globally, the most produced handset in this style was the Model 302, which, with a thermoplastic case, was manufactured in the US by Western Electric between 1937-1955 and plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XF (1984-1988, right).  Telephones with larger dial mechanisms usually didn't use all the available space for the finger-holes.

Probably some are annoyed at the “five-hole” wheel design coming to be known as the “phone-dial” because of course the classic rotary-dial mechanism had ten holes, one for each numeral.  Ford Australia actually stuck to the classics when designing a plastic wheel-cover for the XE Fairmont (then the next rung up in the Falcon's pecking order) because it featured the correct ten holes and it was re-allocated as a “hand-me-down” for the Falcon when the XF was introduced, the Fairmont now getting an eight-hole unit.  None of these seem ever to have been dubbed “phone-dials”, probably because plastic wheel–covers have never been a fetish like the older metal versions or aluminium wheels (often as “rims” in modern usage, a practice which also annoys some).  The XE hubcap may be thought a decemfoil (10 leaf) and the XF unit a octofoil (8 leaf).

1971 Ford (South Africa) XY Fairmont GT with the GS Pack wheel covers.

The South African Fairmont GTs were never fitted with the "five slot" wheels used in Australia, getting instead the chromed wheel cover which in Australia was part of the "GS Pack", a collection of "dress-up" options designed to provide much of the look of a GT without the additional costs to purchase or insure one.  The GS Pack wheel covers were first seen in Australia on the 1967 XR Falcon GT and came from the Mercury parts bin in the US where they'd appeared on the 1966 Mercury Comet Cyclone GT; they were designed to look like a chromed, naked wheel, the idea a tribute to the Californian hot rod community in which the motif originated.

1971 Ford (Australia) XY Falcon GT with “five slot” wheels.

Although scholars of Latin probably haven’t given much thought to the wheels Ford used in the 1960s & 1970s, their guidance would be helpful because the correct Latin form for “slot” depends on context, the words being (1) Fissura: “crack, split or narrow opening”, (2) Rima: “narrow gap or slit”, (3) Foramen: “opening, hole or perforation” and (4) Scissura “cleft or division”.  So a XY GT’s wheel would be a cinquefissura, cinquerima, cinqueforamen or cinquescissura.  The scholars would have to rule but cinquerima seems best, tied in nicely with the modern (albeit contested) use of “rim” to mean wheel.      

In production over six generations between 1965-2008 the Fairmont was a "blinged-up" version of the Australian Ford Falcon (1960-2016), a car based on the US compact (1960-1969) Ford of the same name (the one-off 1970 US Falcon an entry level model in the intermediate Torinio (formerly Fairlane) range).  Ford in the US would also use the Fairmont name for a compact (1978-1983) but the most quirky use was that between 1969-1971, Ford South Africa sold a car substantially similar to the Australian Falcon GT but badged it "Fairmont GT".  Assembled (with some local components) in South Africa from CKD (completely knocked down) packs imported from Australia, the Fairmont name was chosen because US Falcons (assembled from Canadian CKD packs) had been sold in South Africa between 1960-1963 but had gained such a bad reputation (Ford Australia had to do much rectification work after encountering the same fragility) the nameplate was decreed tainted.  In the technical sense, "Fairmont GT" would have been a more accurate name in Australia too because the Falcon GT was trimmed to the same specification (ie bling) as the Fairmont; the choice of "Falcon GT" was just a desire by the marketing team to create a "halo" machine for the mainstream range, something which succeeded to an degree which probably surprised even those ever-optimistic types.  Ford South Africa never offered a Fairmont GTHO to match the Falcon GTHOs produced in Australia to homologate certain combinations of parts for competition.

Lamborghini has used the phone-dial since the first incarnation appeared on the Silhouette in 1976 and it likes it still, left to right: Huranan, Gallardo, Countach, Diablo and Silhouette.  With five "holes", these are true cinquefoils and thoughtlessly, like Porsche, Lamborghini seems never to have provided a "trigger warning" urging caution on the trypophobic (those suffering from trypophobia (an obsessive or irrational fear of patterns or clusters of small holes)).

Despite being often called a "hubcap", what appeared on the South African Fairmont GTs really was a "wheel cover".  The origin of the hubcap was, fairly obviously, “a cap for hub”, something which dates from the age of horse-drawn carts.  Although they would later become something decorative, hubcaps began as a purely function fitting designed to ensure the hub mechanism was protected from dirt and moisture because removing a wheel when the hub was caked in mud with bolts “rusted on” could be a challenge.  In the twentieth century the practice was carried over to the automobile, initially without much change but as wheels evolved from the wooden-spoked to solid steel (and even in the 1920s some experimented with aluminium), the hubcaps became larger because the securing bolts were more widely spaced.  This meant they became a place to advertise so manufacturers added their name and before long, especially in the US, the humble hubcap evolved into the “wheel-cover”, enveloping the whole circle and they became a styling feature, designs ranging from the elegant to the garishly ornate and some were expensive: in 1984 a set of replacement “wire” wheel covers for a second generation Cadillac Seville (the so-called “bustle-back”, 1980-1985) listed at US$995.00 if ordered as a Cadillac part-number and then that was a lot of money.  By the late 1980s, most wheel covers were plastic pressings, other than in places like the isolated environments behind the Iron Curtain.

Beltless: Lindsay Lohan in 2004 using touch-dial wall-phone, note the hooking of the thumbs in the belt loops.

Remarkably, although touch-dial (ie buttons) handsets appeared in the consumer market as early as 1963 and soon became the standard issue, in 2024 it’s possible still to buy new, rotary-dial phones although only the user experience remains similar; internally the connections are effected with optical technology, the “sound & feel” emulated.  There’s also a market for updating the old Bakelite & Thermoplastic units (now typically between 70-90 years old) with internals compatible with modern telephony so clearly there’s some nostalgia for the retro-look, if not the exact experience.  Even after the touch-dial buttons became ubiquitous the old terminology persisted among users (and in the manufacturers' documents); when making calls users continued to "dial the number".  The same sort of linguistic legacy exists today because ending a call is still the act of "hanging up" and that dates from the very early days of telephony when the ear-piece was a large conical attachment on a cord and at a call's conclusion, it was "hung up" on a arm, the weight of the receiver lowering the arm which physically separated two copper connectors, terminating the link between the callers.  

Ms Justine Haupt with custom rotary-dial cell phone in turquoise.

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987), an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory went a step further (backwards, or perhaps sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it used an AT&T prepaid sim card and had a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  

Designer colors: Available in black, white, turquoise, beige and the wonderful Atomic Hotline Red.

“Atomic Hotline Red” is an allusion to the Moscow-Washington DC “hotline” installed in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 1962). In truth, despite frequently appearing in popular culture, there never was a “red phone” and the US connection terminated not on the POTUS’s desk in the Oval Office but in the Pentagon (now HQ of the Department of War) in Arlington County, Virginia.  The first implementation in 1963 used a version of Telex while it was an analogue facsimile service (ie fax machines) between 1986-2008.  Since 2008 the data has travelled over a secure digital link, decrypted into text at each end.

Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit (US$170) with which others could build their own, all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unlike the larger mechanism on the traditional desk or wall-mounted telephone, the holes in the Trimline’s smaller rotary-dial used the whole circle so the ten-hole layout is symmetrical and thus the same as the XE Fairmont’s wheelcover, something doubtlessly wholly coincidental.  Unfortunately, Ms Haupt encountered many difficulties (bringing to market a device which connects to public telephony networks involves processes of greater complexity than selling mittens and such) but the project remains afoot.

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.

The Confederation of Cinque Ports was a group of coastal towns in Kent, Sussex and Essex, the name from the Old French which means literally “five harbors”.  The five were Hastings, Sandwich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe, all on the western shore of the English Channel, where the crossing to the continent is narrowest.  Because of (1) their importance in cross-channel trade and (2) being in the region ,most vulnerable to invasion, they were granted special privileges and concessions by the Crown in exchange for providing certain services essential for maritime defense, dating from the years prior to the formation of the Royal Navy in the fifteenth century.  The name was first used in the late twelfth century in Anglo-Latin and the late thirteenth in English.

An early version of a PPP (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 at least some of the previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office.  It is a lifetime appointment.

William Lygon (1872-1938), seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

The office of lord warden has not been without the whiff of scandal.  William Lygon, 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, Lord 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 undemanding role.  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 so 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.  Leading a sheltered existence, Lady Beauchamp had never been told about the mechanics of “the detestable and abominable vice of buggery” and was baffled, thinking her husband was being accused of being a bugler.  Actually, that evocative phrase from the statute of 1533 no longer existed in English law so someone must have gone into the details with her because the charge would have been “Gross Indecency contrary to Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885”.  The change had been created by the so-called Labouchere Amendment and it solved the practical problem created by the specificity of the words of the sixteenth century.  For the state, the problem was the old law had been too exact in that if the prosecution could not beyond reasonable doubt prove anal sex had happened between at least two “male persons”, a conviction couldn’t be secured.  Thus the attraction of the phrase “Gross Indecency” which covered the whole vista of “unnatural caresses” and it was under the new law Irish writer Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) was tried and convicted, receiving a sentence of two years.  So it cast a wider net but was less harsh in that as late as 1861 a conviction could attract the death penalty although this was thought so onerous a punishment for what was often a consensual act that prosecutions became rare.  Despite the reforms in England, in some parts of the old British Empire, terminology like “the abominable crime of buggery” remained on the statute books until late in the twentieth century.

Once things were became clear in Lady Beauchamp's mind, 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.”  Tipped-off (then as now, the establishment had a "gay network"), his lordship promptly decamped, first to Germany which then would have seemed a prudent choice because, although homosexual acts between men 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, the writer Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) describing things memorably although it wasn't until his diaries were later published one fully could "read between the lines".  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, four cities with a tolerant sub-culture and certainly places where wealthy gay men usually could bribe their way out of any legal unpleasantness.

Sir Robert Menzies in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) was one of the more improbable appointments as lord warden.  In the office (1965-1978), he replaced Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) on whom the hardly onerous duties had been imposed in 1941.  The old soldier Churchill had spent a lifetime appearing in a variety of military uniforms (his RAF (Royal Air Force) Air Commodore's outfit adorned with "pilot's wings" (aviator badge), "awarded" by the RAF on the basis of flying lessons (concluded after a non-fatal crash) he'd undertaken at the Royal Naval Flying School at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey while serving as First Lord of the Admiralty (1911-1915)) and wore it well but the very civilian Menzies looked something like one of the characters from a Gilbert & Sullivan (Sir William Gilbert (1836–1911) & Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842–1900) comic opera.  That he was made lord warden rather than being granted a peerage was thought by some emblematic of the changing relationship between the UK and Australia.

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 declined and made it known why.  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.”  Lord Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to society, dying within a year of the ball but 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 (1904-1936) who shared and (with some enthusiasm) 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.